I’m still moving.
Fear not, true believer. The Mighty Geek will be back on the web October 1st with a brand new redesign and a whole lot of new and exciting stories about his pathetic life. In the meantime, why don’t you visit some of the nice people I’ve gone through the trouble of linking over there on the left? They’re very good writers and sometimes they even have pictures you can look at and everything!
Oh, and Bread says, “Why are you still here? Get a life, you losers!”
I’m moving.
Beginning this weekend, HoBiscuit, Bread, Miss Ex-Boxx and I will be moving out of our current residence and into our new home. Due to all the packing, unpacking, chaos, screaming, cursing, broken items, physical pain and other various transitional mishaps expected over the next three weeks I don’t think I’ll be able to write for this website again until October. But, I’ll try to post something whenever I can. Be good while I’m away, stiff upper lip and all. No, no. Be strong my friends, don’t cry. Look for me here everyday, just in case I post something, and I’ll be back before you know it.
Promise.
3:30 AM.
“Hear ye, Hear ye. This meeting of the Body Parts Known Collectively As GeekMan will now come to order. Mediator Brain presiding.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spine. Before I begin, I’d like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you various body parts for coming to this meeting tonight. I know that…”
“Shut up, you pompous jackhole and get to the point!”
“Anus! That’s no way to talk to the Brain and you know it.”
“Shove it, Spine. I’m very busy working on tomorrows AM load and I don’t have time for these stupid meetings of yours, so Brain better poo or get the hell off the pot before I leave.”
General sounds of agreement from the members of the audience.
“Ahem. Well, since everyone’s in such a hurry, I guess I better get straight to the point. According to our calendar of events, it’s time for GeekMan to experience another ‘harmless’ medical scare. Now, we all know how well the last one went and I’d like to take a moment now to once again publicly congratulate Groin and his team for their wonderful work on the Groin Pull/Not A Hernia project of 2002. Stand up and be recognized!”
Applause as Groin and his team take a bow.
“So, now that we all know what this is about, I’ll open the floor for your ideas. And Sinus, before you and your team even start, I’ll tell you once again that allergies are seasonal and cannot be considered for this project, so just sit down and be quiet.”
Sinus, Nose and Throat sit down grumbling.
“So, who has an idea for a new problem we can inflict upon our hapless host that will annoy him to no end, cause his friends and loved ones to laugh at his pain and still be medically benign?”
“How about an ulcer?”
“Stomach, that’s a great idea but I’m afraid GeekMan’s wise to that one already. He’s got a fully stocked medicine cabinet and he’d probably just blame HoBiscuit’s cooking and take a Tums or something. No. I’m sorry Stomach but an ulcer just won’t do. Anyone else?”
“Hemorrhoids?”
“Anus, we’ve discussed this already. You’ll get your precious hemorrhoids in about 15 years so quit bringing them up at every meeting, ok?”
“But they’re so frickin cute…”
“We’ll talk about it later, Anus. Now, anyone else have an idea?”
Silence.
“Come on, people! Someone’s got to have an idea. Anyone?”
A hand goes up in the back of the room.
“Yes? Who is that back there?”
“Uhm… it’s me, Mr. Brain, sir. Left Foot.”
“Well, speak up Lefty. Don’t be shy. Tell us your idea.”
“Well, I was thinking, your Brainship, perhaps we could give him some inexplicable foot pain? You know? Maybe a shooting pain from his left big toe to his knee that would make it nearly impossible to walk without limping? Or something like that?”
Silence.
“I’m sorry, sir. I know it was dumb, but I just wanted to help and… Well, I’ll just sit down now and we can forget the whole thing, ok?”
“Don’t sit down just yet, Mr.. What did you say your name was again?”
“Uh, Left Foot, sir.”
“Well, Lefty. Let me be the first to congratulate you! Your idea is genius. Simply genius!”
“You really think so, sir?”
“Of course I do! It’s perfect! A pain that will nearly incapacitate GeekMan for a whole day, that’s not traceable to any one source, that’ll have his friends laughing at him as he limps around town AND isn’t serious enough to warrant a trip to the doctor. My god Lefty, you’ve hit a gold mine!”
“Oh, thank you, Your Brainship, sir! Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me, Lefty. We should be thanking you!”
Applause from everyone in attendance except Anus, who is dreaming of building a harem of hemorrhoids for his sexual pleasure.
“Lefty, I want you to get started on this right away. How long will it take for you to implement The Great Toe Cramp of 2002?”
“Uh, well… if I get started right away, and you give me the paperwork I’ll need to get the muscles and stuff to work overtime, then I can be ready in about three hours.”
“The paperwork will be on your desk in half an hour. Spine, see to it.”
“Then I better get to work, sir. If you’ll excuse me…”
“You’re excused, Lefty. Damn, but this is going to be great. OK everybody, this meeting is adjourned. Anus, wipe that stupid smile off your face and step into my office.”
7:00 AM.
GeekMan is rudely awakened from a deep sleep when an invisible man wielding a rusty, spike-covered baseball bat takes a few swings at his left foot. HoBiscuit threatens to kill GeekMan if he doesn’t stop whining like a baby and let her go back to sleep. GeekMan spends the rest of the day sobbing as his throbbing foot makes even sitting down painful. Operation Great Toe Cramp of 2002 is considered a resounding success by all the members of the Body Parts Known Collectively As GeekMan.
As a reward for his great work, Lefty was promoted to VP of Toe Management and is currently lead developer on the Ingrown Toenail Of Doom Project of 2003.
There used to be a picture here, but at the request of Annessa it has been removed.
GeekMan,
How do I adore thee? Let me count the ways…
One, Two – boobies!
Here is a picture for you, showing my love. Now this deserves a link!I adore you!
I’ve got a fan! Take that and toast it where the sun don’t shine Bread! Right up the old yeast-hole, you little bastard. Sideways. With relish.
Now if you’ll excuse me, for some odd reason I have a sudden craving for milk…
OK, let me see if I understand this.
I’m not a real person. I’m actually an artistic representation of a medieval saint carved in marble and displayed at the foot of some stairs inside Saint Marks Cathedral in New York. Never mind what a York is, let alone a new one, I’ll just accept the fact that I’m in a really famous and holy church somewhere and leave it at that.
At least I’ve got steady employment.
So, I’m made of marble. And what does that mean to me? It means that I’ll never be able to move, not even a little bit, no matter how hard I try. In other words, I’ve been wasting my time for the last 100 frickin’ years trying to move my left hand so I could scratch my god damn nose. So, I’m going to have this annoying itch on the tip of my unmoving, marble nose for the rest of my frickin’ existence, right?
Damn.
So, if I’m a saint, tell me why I’m wearing this stupid sombrero. What? It’s not a sombrero? A halo? Really? Well slap my ass and steal my sandals! For the last 200 hundred years here I am thinking that I’m a Mexican with the ugliest poncho in existence when I’m actually not Mexican at all.
No wonder I can’t understand Spanish.
Hey! I bet the hotties really dig a guy with a halo. I mean, intellectually I know all about that whole celibacy thing, but that’s only when I’m on duty, right? When I punch out at five or whatever I can still go down to the local house of sin with my homeys and get jiggy with it, right? Right?
Crap.
And what’s up with my vice-like death grip on this humongous key? I haven’t been able to feel my fingers for the last 80 freaking years. Do you think I might be able to put it down, just for a minute? Come on, I’ve got a bad case of carpel tunnel syndrome in my right hand and that’s the hand I refer to as my ‘personal masseuse’, if you catch my drift. Honestly, just 30 seconds. Give a saint a break, will ya?
Bastard.
OK, ok. Fine. I can deal with all this. I’m made of marble, I’m a saint and I’ll never be able to know the pleasures of the flesh or even scratch my own damn nose. Great. Perfect. No problem.
But, before you go, could you please just answer one question for me?
If I’m such a holy person, and this is such a holy place, why the hell do those little carvings on my left look like erect and flaccid penis’? How’s a saint supposed to contemplate the meaning of life, the word of god and all that other holy crap while staring at male genitalia all day? I mean, honestly. Who am I? Saint Dick?
What? Son of a bitch!
I knew there would be repercussions.
It’s not as if I didn’t expect it. I knew when I did what I did that I would get in trouble for it. It was just a matter of time before the proverbial poo hit the metaphorical fan.
I just didn’t expect it so soon.
“Bub, you’re in big trouble.”
Now, before I tell you the next part I feel that I should take a moment to defend myself. See, I had just gotten out of the shower and was going through my dresser drawers looking for clothes. It was right after I put on my underwear when he jumped out from my sock drawer, wearing a blood-red hockey mask and holding a rolled up magazine like a knife. Keeping that image in mind, it’s perfectly understandable, and natural, for me to react the way I did. There’s nothing wrong with what happened next, and I’m sure most of you would have reacted the same way if you found yourself face to face with a very angry piece of bread wielding a paper knife.
That’s right. I screeched like a ring-tailed lemur in heat, and pooed in my tighty-whities.
Continue reading
I’m back and better than before.
Unfortunately, I’ve been completely unable to make skinning work on this site in the way I wanted it to, so for now I’ve given up on making this site skinnable at all. I’m going with this new, cool blue theme for a bit. At least until I get tired of it and change it for something else I’ve been working on. Take a look around and tel me if anything’s broken or not working for you. I promise to look into any problems you might bring to my attention.
Eventually.
In the meantime, it’s back to witty and humorous stupidity here at The Mighty Geek. So sit back, grab a drink and get ready for all the good times ahead.
No, really. There’ll be good times. I promise.