Twelve hours.

That’s all the time I have to see the lovely HoBiscuit before I fly out to Shanghai on the next, and last, leg of this work-trip. I’m busy packing right now, but I wanted to take a moment out of my busy schedule to ask a few questions and make some observations.

Observation #1 – Solonor and his wife are very nice people, even if they are from Florida.
Observation #2 – If you have a small child and are traveling on a plane and your little demon steals a strangers’ book right out of his hands, said stranger will only be appeased by the immediate disembowelment of your spawn on a sacrificial alter located under the center seat of the emergency exit row. The offer of a warm container of applesauce and a distracted, “Sorry. He’s just excited.” simply will not do.
Observation #3 – No matter how hungry you are, never eat half-cooked beans and rubbery squid on a bed of yellowish rice at 3am when in Barcelona. Don’t ask. Trust me.

Question #1 – Does three hours of sleep in a 72 hour period sound like enough to you?
Question #2 – If your internet service provider has the gall to name itself Worldnet, don’t you think they should have access numbers throughout the world? You know, like outside of the United States? Spain or Shanghai, maybe?
Question #3 – Why aren’t I in bed?

Goodnight everyone. See you when I get back on the 29th!

“Sir, you’ll have to take off your shoes, too.”

The fantastically quick-witted and intelligent airport security guard took his hand from the center of my chest and looked me in the eyes to make sure I had not only heard his words, but also understood their meaning. I say he was smart only because his sloped forehead, jutting lower jaw, sparse body hair and ability to walk upright gave him away as an early Cro-Magnum and not a late period Neanderthal like his security brethren.

Also, he could speak.

As I was already standing there putting my coat, wallet, keys, cell phone, spare change, Clie, two computer notebooks, carry-on bag and belt onto the x-ray conveyer belt, I simply sighed and proceeded to remove my shoes. After placing them next to my other things on the Trundle of Total Uselessness, I stepped through the Awning of Metallic Detection and then began the tedious process of gathering up my possessions.

“Sir. I’ll have to ask you to move a little faster, there are other people behind you in line.”

I’m not quick to anger, but I could feel my blood beginning to rise. I mean, there I was, standing in a crowded airport holding my pants up with one hand and trying to put on my shoes with the other and this slow-witted rent-a-cop was trying to hurry me along? All my meager possessions were laid bare for the world to see and this mental midget was telling me I couldn’t take the two minutes I needed to essentially get dressed in front of perfect strangers and repack my precious gadgets?

Why, I was of a mind to chastise him.

However, as I was already running late I simple nodded my head and quickly herded my stuff to a convenient corner of the airport by kicking my shoes, wallet and very expensive, highly fragile electronic equipment across the dirty floor while holding up my pants with one hand and dragging my open bag behind me with the other like it was a reluctant dog.

Somewhere, Bread was laughing.

After getting dressed and repacking I hurriedly made my way to the terminal so I could make my flight down to Auschwitz, whoops! I meant, Orlando. Home of such Mecca’s of cultural significance as Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum, Mary – Queen Of The Universe, Epcot and, of course, Disney (Heil!). I made it to the plane, found my seat and got ready to read my book for the next three hours.

Unfortunately, the 3 billion brats on board had other ideas.

The sweet young girl sitting directly behind me first alerted me to my danger. Her incessant kicking of my chair was my first clue that I would not enjoy this flight. Another child, sitting a few rows in front of me, began to cry loudly as soon as we pulled away from the gate. His sister, who was herself happily screaming something that sounded a lot like,

“I’m going to see Mickey! I’ll swallow your soul! And Donald, too! I am evil. I’m the spawn of Satan! Pluto is my favorite!”

I believe her head then spun around while she vomited pea soup.

Some kids in the back began singing some vile Disney songs and then the person sitting next to me decided that the armrest wasn’t big enough for two people and he used his opposite hand to push my elbow off! That was all I thought I could take so I lowered my book and took a deep breath to tell this idiot off when I noticed something odd.

There was a child in the isle staring at me.

He was probably 6 or 7, wearing those silly baby jeans with the elastic waistband and a shirt with some cartoon character emblazoned across it like a badge of honor. He smiled up at me, because even sitting I was taller than he, and I couldn’t help but grin back. He looked so innocent, so sweet. So damn cute. He was just what I needed to calm myself down before I killed someone on the flight. I smiled at him with gratitude and said, “Hello young man. And what’s your name?”

And then the little bastard grabbed my book and ran screaming down the isle.

I frickin HATE kids.

Hola!

I’m back in the States after a very tiring seven days in Barcelona. In fact, at one point I managed to get only 3 hours of sleep in a 72 hour period. I was so tired I actually began giggling uncontrollably at the thought of llamas in pajamas breakdancing to old Hall & Oats tunes.

Don’t ask.

So, since I was so busy working, I only got to sightsee for 6 hours on Tuesday afternoon. I went to see Gaudi’s famous unfinished cathedral Sagrada Familia. The place was breathtakingly beautiful and I wish I could put up some pictures right now, but my poor camera died on me as I was wandering around inside the cathedral. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to climb to the top of the towers and take a picture of myself peeing off the side, but at the time it sounded like a really great idea. I guess the cathedral didn’t agree and used its mystical powers to cause my camera to break just as I was about to snap a picture of my personal, little, yellow rainbow.

Hey, I am the spawn of Satan, after all.

After I was given the requisite beating by the security guards and forcibly removed from the premises, I dusted myself off and headed back to the hotel to pack and eat dinner. It was then that I realized that most of my pictures were blurry beyond repair because of a malfunctioning zoom/focus mechanism within my camera. This morning I called Sony and was informed that it would cost me more than the cost of a new camera to get this one fixed.

Can anyone say, ‘GeekMan’s getting a new camera!’?

I’ll try to post some of these pictures later today, before I leave, but if I don’t get around to it don’t be angry with me. I’m very busy trying to do laundry, organize bills, make phone calls to clients and pack to spare time for editing photos right now.

Hey, something’s got to give, and photos of Barcelona might be the very thing that does.

Well, I’m off to Orlando, Florida today where I expect to be mentally and emotionally drawn and quartered by my workload. However, if you happen to live near Orlando and wish to Greet the Meat, er… Meet the Geek, then you should email me ASAP. I’m hoping to meet some fellow Bloggers while I’m there on Friday night and I’ll check my email tonight and tomorrow afternoon for anyone else who’s interested in meeting the man behind the Geek.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled silence…

Overheard conversations on my trip so far.

Woman: “I don’t care what you think, you have to do it.”
BoyChild: “But why?”
Woman: “Because. That’s why.”
BoyChild: “But I’ve been practicing mom! I’m getting real good, you know. I hardly miss anymore.”
Woman [exasperated]: “I know, honey. But no matter how much you practice, you’ll still have to lift the toilet seat before peeing.”
BoyChild [petulant]: “Every time?”
Woman: “Yes, dear. Every time.”

Work Associate: “The exit we get off at is ‘Exit 5, Purdy, Somers’”
GeekMan: “Come again?”
Work Associate: “Exit 5. Purdy, Somers.”
GeekMan: *snicker*
Work Associate: “What?”
GeekMan: “That is such a porn star name.”
Work Associate: “Oh. I don’t… OH!”
GeekMan: *snicker*
Work Associate: *snicker*
Both: Bawchicka-chicka bowbowwww…
[much giggling ensues]

Man 1: “You do what?”
Man 2: “I take Flax-Ease.”
Man 3: *snicker*
Man 2: “Don’t laugh, it helps me stay regular. Works like a charm, too.”
Man 1: “Right. So, do you have to do a handstand every morning or something?”
Man 2: “Ha-frickin-ha. It’s in pill form. I take it like an aspirin.”
Man 3: “Oh! For a minute there, I thought you were going to tell us it came in a metal can and you used one of them old oil can spout things and then sat on it.”
Man 2: “That’s not funny. Let me tell you guys something, when I die in a hundred years my colon’s gonna be in a frickin museum as an example of a perfectly healthy colon. I’ll be known as the guy with the healthiest colon in history. I’ll be Flax-ease’s Frickin mascot!”
Man 3: “You’re going to be the ‘FlaxMan’?”
Man 1 [laughing so hard he can hardly speak]: “FlaxMan! Hahahaha! Form of ‘Flax-Ease! Shape of ‘Oil Can Spout!’”
Man 3 [between gasps for air]: “Have no fear, citizens! I, FlaxMan, will use my super sphincter to save the day!”
Man 1 [crying]: “Quickly Number 2! To the Poopmobile!”
Man 1 & 3 collapse to the floor, unable to breathe from laughing so hard.
Man 2: “See? See?!? This is why I never tell you guys anything.”