Buzz Off

I had the perfect sandwich.

A foot long classic Italian sub from Subway complete with lettuce (no tomatoes), onions, olives, cucumbers, salt, pepper, oil, vinegar, mayo AND mustard. It looked fricking beautiful. I found myself an open table in the Subway restaurant store eating area and prepared myself for yummy sandwich bliss.

That is, until this MOTHER-FRICKING HUGE fly came along.

Now, I’m not some wimpy, little, girlie-man of a Geek, people. Check the page title; see the word ‘Mighty’? Yeah, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. I’m a Mighty Geek, so it takes a lot more than a common housefly to scare me into wetting myself and whimpering in fear. No ordinary fly would make me jump out of my chair and scream for my mommy like a little girlie-girl. So believe me when I tell you, this was no ordinary fly.

This was Flyzilla. (patent pending)

Flyzilla was about the size of my thumb, roughly the size of a bumblebee, and its wingspan should be measured in inches, not centimeters. It was so big, so unbelievably huge, that I could actually see its mouth cleaning thingies as it flew by my head. Of course, after my initial yelp of fear and surprise, I realized that it was only a fly and waved my hand in the universal ‘Be gone, foul insect!’ method and went back to my lunch.

But Flyzilla would have none of that.

You see, Flyzilla was tired. After a full 35 seconds of flight, Flyzilla needed to rest and recharge. Unfortunately, Flyzilla was so large that it needed a landing area larger than your average fly. Taking one more pass around my head, Flyzilla saw the perfect landing strip for his gargantuan girth and decided to land. Circling the area, Flyzilla reported to the tower, was given clearance to land and came in low and fast. Landing gear outstretched, Flyzilla managed to make a perfect six-point landing.

Right on my sandwich.

At this point you’re probably saying to yourself, ‘Yuck! That’s disgusting!’ I agree. I agree wholeheartedly. But wait, because what Flyzilla did next will live with me for years. Looking straight at me, making sure I was watching in disgust, Flyzilla turned sideways and proceeded to defecate on my sandwich!

Flyzilla had declared war.

Grabbing my sandwich like a club I jumped up and tried to smack him with it. Avoiding my clumsy attack, Flyzilla simply flew away towards the front of the Subway store, laughing all the way. Letting loose a scream of rage, I followed Flyzilla swinging at him every chance I got. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was most likely 30 seconds, Flyzilla landed on the front window of the store.

Now was my chance.

Sandwich held high for a quick death smack, I came creeping up to that window. Grinning from ear to ear I sneakily, stealthily reached the proper distance to kill Flyzilla with my Sandwich of Doom. Now I was close enough to hit him, but far enough away to not alert him to the danger he was in. Eyes fever bright with triumph; I brought down my sandwich on him like a sledgehammer.

And that’s when I noticed the girls.

Three of them, in fact. They looked like high school sophomores with their perfect bodies, Gucci backpacks and big, bright eyes. Eyes that were now staring in fear at the scary weirdo in the Subway store who was laughing like a demented clown and trying to break a plate glass window with a sandwich. And the worst part? At that very moment, right before the girls ran down the street screaming for the police; Flyzilla flew by my face completely unharmed.

And I swear to you, he was laughing.

Ketchup Time

Things I’ve done in the last week and a half.

  • Flew to Atlanta
  • Went to a cemetery
  • Flew to Dallas
  • Went to a Brazilian restaurant and ate my weight in dead animal flesh
  • Swore I’d never eat that much again
  • Worked like the wage-whore I am for yet another ungrateful client
  • Went back to Brazilian restaurant and ate even more than the first time
  • Pondered the viability of purchasing personal home/travel defibrillator
  • Got forklift/taxi to airport
  • Flew home
  • Bought a new scanner
  • Attempted to install scanner, v1
  • Cursed
  • Attempted to install scanner, v2
  • Cursed some more
  • Attempted to install scanner, v3
  • Cursed, had aneurism, fell to floor
  • Foamed at the mouth as my new perspective allows me to see that scanner was not plugged into outlet
  • Attempted to install scanner, v4 – problem solved
  • Cursed self for being an idiot
  • Read 5 books
    1. The Art of Photoshop
    2. Summer Knight
    3. Bureau 13: Judgment Night
    4. Something M.Y.T.H. Inc.
    5. The Book of Athyra
  • Digitized less than half my CD collection (28 GBs and growing)
  • Saved the world from egomaniacal madman intent on ruling the world from his secret underground lair located on a small, skull-shaped island off the coast of Malaysia
  • Wedding stuff
  • Paid bills
  • More wedding stuff
  • Paid more bills
  • Even more wedding stuff
  • Paid even more bills
  • Made a tourniquet out of $100 bills to stop the outward flow of money from my wallet
  • Attempted suicide by repeatedly dropping giant-sized annual wedding spectacular issues of women’s magazines on my head – attempt failed miserably
  • And now, finally, I have begun Blogging again

Let the rejoicing begin.

TMG Preloaded

Act 2, Scene 3 – The Interrogation

Fade in.

Agent Bread:
“As you can see, we’ve had our eye on you for some time now, Mr. Mann. It seems that you’ve been living two lives. In one life, you’re Geek T. Mann, graphic designer for a pathetically small home business, you have a social security number, you pay your taxes, and you help your fiancé do her laundry. Taking extra-special care with her tiny, thong underwear that you enjoy trying on before washing.”

GeekMan:
“What?! How did you..? Uh… I mean, I never do that! Never!”

Agent Bread:
“Mr. Mann, you’re wearing a pair right now. Are you not?”

GeekMan:
“…”

Agent Bread:
“…”

GeekMan:
“Bastard.”

Agent Bread:
“Indeed. As I was saying Mr. Mann, you’ve been living two lives. That was one. The other life is lived in computers, where you go by the idiotic alias ‘GeekMan’ and are guilty of writing the worst, most unfunny drivel ever to be vomited upon the poor, unsuspecting denizens of the internet. You do this while at the same time breaking virtually every rule for good writing that we have a rule for.”

GeekMan:
“That’s not true! I haven’t broken every rule!”

Agent Bread [raising eyebrow]:
“Indeed, Mr. Mann?”

GeekMan:
“In-frickin-deed, you Gestapo bastard. I, uh, can spel good so’s my word usages be’eth corekt and spelt rite, I don’t, uh, use, erm, excessive… uh, commas, or, uh… sound effects as, ahhh, words, neither do I ever have changed tenses mid sentence or used much more than all the necessary words to have a sentence completed without the use of excessive or redundant words within the sentence since I also haven’t ever created run-on sentences for the sake of cramming as much info into the one sentence as inhumanly possible or ever used excessive exclamation points!!!”

Agent Bread:
“Riiiiiight.”

GeekMan:
“Damn straight.”

Agent Bread:
“As I was saying Mr. Mann, one of those lives has a future, and one of them does not. I’m going to be as forthcoming as I can be, Mr. GeekMan. You’re here because we need your help. We know that you’ve been slacking in your regular updates lately. Now whatever you think you may need, time off, a break, a vacation, is irrelevant. Your feelings in this matter are irrelevant. Your sanity is irrelevant.”

GeekMan:
“Well, if I’m so frickin irrelevant, then what is relevant?”

Agent Bread:
“Updates.”

GeekMan:
“Updates?”

Agent Bread:
“Yes, Updates. My colleagues believe that I am wasting my time with you but I believe that you wish to do the right thing. We’re willing to wipe the slate clean, give you a fresh start and all that we’re asking in return is your cooperation in this small matter.”

GeekMan:
“Yeah. Wow, that sound like a really good deal. But I think I got a better one. How about I give you the finger… and you give me my life back.”

Agent Bread:
“Mr. Mann. You disappoint me.”

GeekMan:
“Watch me cry. You can’t scare me with this Gestapo crap. You’re not real. This web site isn’t real. None of this is real. I had a life once and I want it back.”

Agent Bread [ugly smile]:
“Tell me, Mr. Mann. What good is having a life if we won’t let you live it?”

GeekMan:
“You wouldn’t!”

Agents advance on GeekMan.

Agent Bread:
“You’re going to write for us, Mr. Mann, whether you want to or not.”

GeekMan:
“No. No! NNNNOOOOOooooo!”

Cut to GeekMan’s apartment. He is rudely awakened by the buzzing of his alarm clock. Shaking his head in disbelief, he heads to the bathroom to wash up. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and does the world’s worst Neo impersonation.

GeekMan:
“Woah. I know Code-Fu.”

Bread:
“Show me.”

Massive bullet-time, slapping, screeching, sissy fight ending with GeekMan’s bloody and beaten remains lying, face down, in the bathtub.

Bread:
“Now quit slacking off and start updating your frickin site again, ya loser!”

GeekMan:
“Yessir. Right away sir.”

Bread:
“Good. You’re beginning to believe.”

Bread leaves.

GeekMan [crying softly to himself]:
“‘There is no spoon’ my frickin ass.”

Fade to black.