Month: October 2002

An Open Letter To My New Neighbors

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   2

Dear Fellow Neighbors,

According to an official email from the sanitation department, I was supposed to place my old air-conditioners outside of my apartment the night before my recyclable collection day so that the CFC’s could be safely removed and the ac’s properly disposed of. The normal recycle day for this block is Wednesday, so naturally, I assumed that meant I should place my ac’s on the curb Tuesday night with the rest of the recyclables. Being a responsible citizen, I did as I was bid, and fully expected that everything would be taken care of without any further problems.

But, as we all know, that was wishful thinking.

After placing my ac’s outside my building on Tuesday evening I went to sleep. On Wednesday morning, at 4:38am to be exact, there was somebody outside the building, banging on the ac’s with what sounded like a sledgehammer. At 5:46am, over one hour later, the banging finally ended when one of you helpfully screamed, among other things, “Shut the hell up, you jackhole!” After the banging ended, all I could think to myself was, “Damn, they sure did take their sweet time to get out the CFC’s!” When I left the house later on that morning and noticed that the ac’s were still on the curb I just assumed that they would be picked up with my recyclables later that evening.

Ever the optimist, am I not?

So, now it’s Thursday morning and those two wretched monstrosities are still here. Like ugly blights upon my very existence, they refuse to be exorcised from my life. Calling the sanitation department this morning, I was told by the very bored and mentally sloth-like creature on the other end of the line that there had been a miscommunication. He patiently explained to me, in small, single-syllable words so I would be sure to understand him, that I was supposed to have put my ac’s out on Monday evening for a Tuesday morning CFC collection and Tuesday evening garbage collection. Apparently, my email confirmation had been incorrect in telling me to place them on the curb with my garbage on Tuesday evening, and I should have known this somehow and called the department to get the correct information.

Say what?!?

I was also told that the banging that had so rudely awakened myself and the rest of my new neighborhood was most likely a roving bum looking to remove the Freon from the ac units to resell at garages for cash. I would now have to take the ac’s back into my apartment and put them back out next Monday to try the whole thing again. If I left them outside, then I would be ticketed and fined.

Son of a…

So, in the hopes of not becoming public enemy numero uno in my new neighborhood, I am hereby offering an apology to everyone within earshot of my apartment. I’m sorry about all the noise yesterday morning and I apologize profusely for any inconvenience those two unsightly curb-warts cause you in your daily stroll past my building. Rest assured that as soon as my friend gets here to help me, we will remove them from the curb until next Monday evening when, like magic, they will reappear for 24 hours before disappearing once more into the ether, never to be seen again.

In conclusion, I’m really sorry and please don’t hate me because it’s not my fault.

So, now that I’ve explained myself and the whole situation, could whoever it is who keeps pouring Freon all over my doorway and nailing the This Is A Neighborhood Not A Landfill, STOOPID sign on my door, please stop? It’s not funny.

Really, it’s not.

10 Things To Do Instead Of Unpacking

• by GeekMan • In Experiments, Moving •   2
  • Use your new-found G.I. Joe action figures to infiltrate the Smurf fortress of Smurfdom, assassinate Papa Smurf, set up Brainy Smurf as the new regimes figurehead ruler and kidnap Smurfette as the ‘spoils of war’.
  • Using old cardboard boxes, some pillows and a blanket, build a fort. Use it to hide from the angry infidel who wishes you would grow up.
  • Call Raisin Bran headquarters and complain that your box was four raisins short of two scoops. Demand a refund.
  • Play X-Box until your eyes bleed and your sphincter implodes.
  • Research PC audio cards.
  • Attempt, through two hours of intense & rigorous taste testing, to discover which of the 17 nearby pizza shops makes the best slice of pizza.
  • Rearrange your books using the Dewey decimal system. Create an index card catalogue for reference complete with a thumbnail picture of each books cover and plot summary.
  • Disassemble your computer, laying out each part according to size, shape and color, then reassemble it without using your thumbs. Time yourself.
  • Spend several minutes attempting to develop your latent psychic powers of telekinesis and mind control. Should they manifest themselves, take over the world.
  • One word: Blog

The Geek Needs You

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   13

I’m getting a new computer.

After a whopping six years of continuous service, I think it’s about time to retire Old Faithful and upgrade to something a little more powerful than her PII 300. I mean, sure she was a good, speedy machine in her day, but that was back in the mid-nineties when her 8 gigabyte hard drive was considered gargantuan.

Today, that same hard drive won’t even hold Win XP and Office.

Don’t get me wrong, she still works. Rarely crashes, too. In fact, just before the move, I cracked open her case to make sure everything was properly connected and I saw Billy, my resident gremlin, sitting in his rocking chair, smoking a pipe and smiling to himself. At first he was blinded by the light of day, but as soon as his eyes adjusted he looked up at me, smiled and said, “Good to see you again, boss. Sorry I haven’t been doing my job lately, but I’m a tad too old for that now. Guess all good things must come to an end, eh?”

Then he had a heart attack and died.

So now, after putting it off for the last two years, I’ve finally made the plunge and ordered myself a new computer. I’m buying a custom job, built with love by my friendly, fly-by-night, faceless & soulless internet computer store. It’ll have an AMD 2200+ processor, 512MB of PC3700 DDR Ram, a Radeon 9000 pro video card, 80 GB hard drive (two 120GB hard drives to come later), 19” Flat Screen monitor, CD-RW, DVD, LAN, USB 2.0, Firewire and all the other bells and whistles that Geeks like me have wet dreams about. For aesthetic reasons I decided against the cutout window and sound activated neon light, but I am getting the silver case with matching keyboard and mouse. But the best part is that the whole she-bang’s only going to cost me $1,400.

My current machine cost me $4,800 back in 1996. And I bought two. Ouch.

Anywaste, this new machine is going to rock. I’m happy about making the purchase, but I do have one small problem. You see, I’ve ordered this new toy without a sound card. I was hoping that I’d be able to find myself a nice, higher end (read; better than SoundBlaster LIVE) sound card with which I could rip my entire LP collection of over 3,000 records to the computer hard drive and then play back through the VEHTS.

Unfortunately, I know almost nothing about high end sound cards.

And this, my wonderful, intelligent and most of all helpful readership, is where you come in. I want you to suggest to me a PC sound card that I can use to hook up to my turntable and thus record my records to MP3/AAC/WMA/Whatever. Suggested sound card needs to also output audio to a high end sound system WITHOUT making the music sound emotionally dead, tinny, distorted or like it’s coming from a computer.

Standard L/R audio jacks will do, but digital output would be better.

Also, while we’re at it, does anyone have a suggestion on Jukebox software that will keep all of these music files organized? Not only by artist, title, year and whatnot, but also by beats per minute and compression ratio?

Come on people, throw me a frickin bone here.

Doing It For Love

• by GeekMan • In Bread, Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Moving •   3

“So, how’s it feel?”
“How’s what feel, Bread?”
“Don’t give me that innocent crap, GeekMan. You and HoBiscuit haven’t had it in weeks. I want to know what it’s like to go without for so long.”
“None of your frickin business, you little bastard.”
“Oh, come on! Inquiring minds want to know.”
“Go away.”

I turned away from the smug look on his face and quickly dove into another cardboard box labeled ‘Amazingly Heavy Books’ and began emptying its contents into the bookshelves. Anyone who tells you that packing up your life into cardboard boxes and moving to a new location is hard is lying or stupid. Moving isn’t the hard part. The hard part is unpacking all your stuff and wondering why you ever bothered to pack it in the first place.

“I’ll bet you miss it.”
“Shut up.”
“I’ll bet you lay awake at night dreaming about it.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t you think she misses it, too? Maybe she lays awake at night right next to you, dreaming about it just like you do.”
“Shut up.”
“I’ll bet she wants it right now…”
“SHUT UP!”

I glared at him as he looked down at me from the top of the bookcase, safely out of reach. One day I swore I’d figure out how something with no hands or feet was able to climb a seven foot bookcase, but right then all I wanted to do was climb up there and throttle him.

“Ooooo. Is someone a little cranky?”
“I swear Bread, if you don’t shut up I’m going to toast you.”
“Look at me, I’m shaking.”
“You little…”
“Spare me, wimp. You know you can’t actually catch me. I’m like the frickin Gingerbread Man. Anyway, if you just caved in and let HoBiscuit have it like you know she wants it, you wouldn’t be so cranky.”
“I am not cranky. I’m just a little frustrated about unpacking, is all.”
“You say toMAYto, I say toMAHto…”
“Shut up.”

Miraculously, he did. For a few moments, there was no sound other than that of books being laboriously alphabetized and put onto shelves, punctuated by an occasional sneeze.

“Why won’t you do it?”
“Don’t bother me.”
“Hey, come on numbnuts, I’m serious. Why won’t you just do it? Has HoBiscuit been bad or something? Are you punishing her?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. This wouldn’t even be a good punishment, since I miss it just as much as she does. You know, this isn’t easy for either of us.”
“Then why don’t you just cave in and do it already?”
“If you must know, it’s because I’m not ready yet. We’ve just moved in together, in a new home in a new area, and I just want everything to be perfect before we take such a big step.”
“That’s crazy talk! Things won’t ever be ‘perfect’! All she wants is some of that old magic back, some of the ‘wow’ and ‘pizzazz’. That’s all. Can’t you just give in already and give it to her?”

I knew he was right. That was all she wanted. And it would be really great to finally do it and make her happy again. She had been a little bit cranky the last few days and truth be told, I was finding it harder and harder to resist when she would…

“Wait a second! Since when have you ever cared if HoBiscuit or I suffered? Usually, you revel in our pain and try your damnedest to make our suffering greater. What the hell’s going on here?”
“Dammit!”
“Hah! I knew it! What are you up to, Bread? What diabolical scheme have you got up your proverbial sleeve?”

He looked down at me in consternation as I laughed and pointed at him in glee. I had finally caught on to one of his little schemes before it exploded in my face and I planned on enjoying my moment in the sun to the utmost. He wouldn’t catch me off-guard the way he had when he offered to put ice in my drink. I still shuddered at the mental picture of those cockroaches running around inside the ice cubes as they floated in my drink. To this day I still can’t figure out how Bread managed to keep the roaches alive in their frozen prisons.

“So? What’s the scam this time, loser?”
“Sigh. If you must know Geek, there is no scam.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. No scam.”
“Then why do you care that Hobiscuit and I haven’t had it in so long?”
“I don’t, Lamebrain. Did you ever stop and think that maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one who’s suffering?”

Well, I’ll be a llama’s uncle.

“Since when have you ever..?”
“All the time, moron. Whenever you and HoBiscuit were doing it, I did it too.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. And now I miss it, too. It’s all I can think about. Day and night, night and day. I miss it. I really need it and I need it bad.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Miss Ex-Boxx feels the same way I do. In fact, she asked me to talk with you about it. So did HoBiscuit.”
“They did? Really?”
“Really. The truth is that we need it so bad that I’ve been sent to ask you, no, to beg you to please do it. Do it for you, for HoBiscuit, do it for Miss Ex-Boxx, but most of all, do it for me. Please.”

I didn’t believe it.

“I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it, bub. This is the first and last time you’ll ever hear me ask for something so don’t get used to it, ok? The girls want it so much they’re practically foaming at the mouth to get it so as men, our job is clear. And anywaste, we both want it too, so why wait?”
“Wow. I had no idea you guys all felt this way.”
“We do.”
“Right. So, I guess I’ll just have to do it, then.”
“You will? Really?”
“Really, really.”
“Thank god.”
“And then, when I’m done, we can all do it together.”
“Well? What the heck are you waiting for?”
“Right.”

I dialed the number.

“Hello? Hi. I’d like to have digital cable installed in my new apartment please…”

I’m Not Really Here…

• by GeekMan • In Moving •   8

Don’t let the Queen know, but I’m being bad.

You see, I’m supposed to be unpacking the boxes labeled ‘Office Supplies’ and ‘Stupidly Heavy Books’ but I’m not. Instead, I’m sitting here in my box covered office writing an entry for my site that she will most likely read five minutes after I post it. Then she’ll call me to say I shouldn’t be wasting my time like this. That I should be busy unpacking. That I should be trying to make life easier, instead of harder. The quicker we unpack, she would say, the sooner I can get back to my silly online hobby. But you know what I say? I say, “When the boss is away the bad boys will procrastinate all day.”

And I’m a baaaaad boy.

Oh well, maybe I should get back to unpacking. What to do, what to do… Hey! I wonder what’s in this box labeled ‘Toy’s – Do Not Open’? I like toys, especially my expensive electronic ones, but I don’t remember packing this box. And that doesn’t look like my handwriting, either. Well, let me get the box cutters and we’ll see what’s inside, no?

What the..?

These aren’t toys! There’s nothing in here but batteries and some Sharper Image personal massagers! They’re not even the good personal massagers, either. These are the little ones with the funny shapes that you need to be double jointed to use on your back. I hate these! I don’t remember buying them though, so that means they must be HoBiscuits and that means…

Oh.

I’m a baaaaad boy.

True Fear

• by GeekMan • In HoBiscuit, Moving •   4

In the center of a small city of packing tape and cardboard, he stands.

Majestic and proud, the Geek overlooks his vast kingdom and smiles with satisfaction as it expands before his very eyes. Worker drones with powerful muscles, and even more powerful odors, carry his kingdom, piece by piece, up from the lowly depths of the mortal world below to their new places in the skies above. There is only one reason that these worker drones would toil away like this. Only one Prize, one Reward, one Payment would be great enough to make these powerful beings follow the orders of such a cruel, evil and heartless dictator.

Free beer.

Cube upon cube of CO3 Type B Microondulated Standard 200lb Board Test Corrugated Shipping Boxes are stacked, one upon the other, by the tireless worker drones as they dream of the carbonated alcoholic beverages being held tantalizingly out of reach by their evil overlord. In less time than it takes to tell it, the last box is placed upon the final tower and the entire city is finished. Moments later, the beer is gone and so are the worker drones, no doubt off to the next would-be dictator with a miniature kingdom in need of relocation.

And so, the Geek stands alone in his paper city and looks upon it in awe and admiration.

And he stands.

And he looks.

And he…

…

He wonders what the hell he and his woman are going to do with all this crap, is what he does. Box upon box upon box of crap fills the living room and spills out down the hallway until it washes up on the shore of the queen-sized bed in the bedroom like water on the beach. Scattered among the boxes, like so many small islands in the south pacific, are tables, chairs, bookcases and couches. No flat surface in the place has been left box-less. Not the kitchen counter, not the windowsills, not even the bed.

Would you believe, even the toilet is covered by a box?

Feeling completely overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of the task before him, the Geek attempts to find something, anything, that will help him procrastinate long enough for HoBiscuit to arrive home from work and thus help him begin the unpacking phase of the move. Suddenly, a thought bubbles to the surface of his tiny mind.

Blog.

Hot DAY-um! That would certainly keep him busy for an hour or so! And didn’t he promise to update his loyal readership on the first of October? Damn straight he did, and by golly, he always keeps his promises, doesn’t he? Nodding like a chimp with a broken neck on Ecstasy, the Geek begins his search for the greatest procrastination device ever invented.

The computer.

By sheer luck, the special computer bag with his lovely laptop just happens to be visible next to the back wall of the dining room. It should only take him about half an hour to clear a pathway to that area and then he could write to his hearts content until HoBiscuit came home and yelled at him for being lazy.

A plan so crazy it just might work.

45 minutes later we find our hero sitting on a box labeled ‘Fragile – Glassware’ with his laptop balanced precariously on his knees, typing furiously. An hour after that, as he finishes with his story, he suddenly looks up from the computer and says, to no one in particular;

“Hey, how the hell am I going to find the phone jack?!?”

At that exact moment, the door opens and HoBiscuit enters. She is greeted with the sight of her man, who was supposed to be unpacking, sitting amongst a sea of still-packed boxes, with his computer in his lap and the words ‘phone jack’ still hanging in the air. The look she gave him would have chilled the heart of Beelzebub’s mother-in-law.

“If you even THINK of going online until each and every one of these boxes is empty, I’m going to be very, very upset. Is that clear?”

Woo, boy. Was it ever.

And that, my friends, is why the new design is not yet live. But at least I’m being allowed online long enough to tell my tale. If you don’t hear from me by Wednesday it’s not because I don’t want to write for this site.

It’s because I’m not allowed to yet.