And then it’s October.
I’ll be in Florida for the next six days, but I’ll be back on the first of October which is also the day the cable company says it will be fixing my internet connection. Be evil, mean and nasty amongst yourselves until I return, at which point I shall spank you all and send you to your rooms without supper.
But you can still have Sumpoosie. Because I’m just that kind of guy.
Coffeehouses suck giraffe penis.
Since I don’t drink coffee but need to be inside this café in order to access the internet I felt it would only be fair for me to actually purchase something from this House of Stinky Liquids. It took me a few minutes of perusing the menu bolted to the wall behind the counter before I found something I thought might be palatable, and then I stepped up to the terminally bored 15-going-on-50 year-old cashier.
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Cable modem go bye-bye.
Being that I am such a Geek, I should have seen this coming. I should have known that as soon as I wanted to start writing my long posts again that something would happen to make my doing so nearly impossible. Some goddess above or demon below would conspire to thwart my hopeless desire to do something creative with my otherwise wasted time.
And so, I have lost my cable connection to the web.
What’s even worse is that the useless people at the cable company won’t be able to come to my home and fix this problem until October 1st. And, because I am so angry right now I could poop in a paper bag, set it on fire on their front porch, ring their doorbell and run away, I will NOT mention my cable company by name. Let’s just say that they’re named after an annoying cartoon bird that is chased around the desert by a very hungry coyote and leave it at that, ok? Stupid coyote should just buy a gun and shoot the damn bird already.
“Beep-beep!” BANG. Dead. Just like that.
So, if you don’t hear from me for the next week or so, you now know why. I’ve had to go to the local coffeehouse chain in order to post this on the web and I hate coffee. Especially when it’s overpriced, weirdly named coffee at $7 a cup. Honestly, doesn’t anyone else think that asking for a ‘double shot, extra-foam, cinnamon-mango grande latte’ is astoundingly pretentious? What? You don’t? Really? Oh, this is just great. Now all you coffee freaks are going to be clamoring for my nads in a basket.
Deep-fried. With a side of garlic mash and a cola. Yummy.
And no, this doesn’t have anything to do with curing cancer.
Don’t get me wrong, curing cancer (or The Cancer, as my grandparents call it) is probably the noblest reason for creating nanotechnology one could ever ask for. Using tiny, microscopic robots to attack and destroy anything is super-freaky cool in and of itself. But having a one nanometer tall Techno-Godzilla beating the crap out of a cancer cell in your colon would be so cool that I think they should film it for a new Fox TV series called, ‘Micro Monster Deathmatch: LIVE!’. Ha! Imagine tiny, humanoid cancer cells pointing at the sky and screaming in fear as they run from their burning Cancer City before the might of the NanoMonsters.
“Godzirrah! Godzirrah! AHHhhhh!!!”
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Do you still love us?
HoBiscuit and I are still doing a lot of work getting ready for our upcoming wedding, so things will continue to be a little slow around here for at least the next two weeks. We’re doing pretty well crossing things off our list of ‘things necessary to do in order to get married’. We’ve got the Dress, the place, the flowers, the DJ, the food, the invitations and almost everything else. You could say we’ve got just about everything we need for this wedding, so what could we possibly be doing that’s taking up all of our precious internet time?
Well, you see, we haven’t found anyone to perform the ceremony yet.
I know, I know. We are stupid. Yes, yes, I understand that we seem to have plenty of time to find someone to marry us, but I can assure you that we do not, especially since I will be traveling for the next two weeks. That means we need to book someone before I leave or we’ll really be up a poo creek without a T.P. boat in October. With evil, little fishes made of corn chunks with sharp, pointy teeth circling us as we sink into the stinky sludge.
Ew.
So, as I get ready to loose my mind trying to please four different parental units with two different religious beliefs at one wedding event, I would appreciate any show of support you might want to express to my future wife and I. A comment here would be nice, or an email, if you’re feeling eloquent, would be even nicer. But to truly show your support and love for us, you might do something even better! Now, you might be asking yourself, “What could possibly be better than an email of love?!” and on any other day I’d be hard pressed to give you a good answer.
But this is not any other day.
So from today, and until our happy wedding day on January 2nd, if you really want to show HoBiscuit and I just how much you love us, you can buy us a little something from our brand spanking new Wedding Registry! Personally, I’d think you were a cheap llama-loving loser if you didn’t buy us the new Sony Clie, or at least the complete Ranma ½ Digital Dojo collection. But that’s just me. HoBiscuit says she’d be thrilled to get even a single CD or book from someone, but I don’t think she’ll really be happy without The Complete Monty Python’s Flying Circus Megaset to go with it.
And Half-Life 2. We must not forget Half-Life 2.
BTW, if you actually know us in real life then ignore the GeekMan & HoBiscuit registry since we’ve set up other registries under our real names for our family and friends. So, if you actually thought you could get off easy by buying us a DVD for $15 and calling it a day, you’ve got another think coming. That’s right, grandma. Can we say “Wüsthof”? How about “All-Clad”?
And Mr. Hentai; if I see even ONE gravy boat I will kill you. Dead.
9-11-01
Or, ‘Those Wacky Japanese Gameshows’.
I don’t post links here very often, but today I make an exception. This must be some kind of Japanese game show, but I can’t really understand what’s going on aside from the fact that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves immensely. Can anyone out there translate this and explain it to me? I’m just dying to know what these clips are for. My favorite, and the one I keep watching over and over again, is the one with the two guys playing ping pong.
I’m in awe of the ‘Super High Jump’.
Anywaste, since I’m so busy right now with Wedding Stuff and actual work-type stuff, I’m sorry to say that these short and quick posts will continue for the foreseeable future. I can’t see me returning to my ‘normal’ schedule until October, but if you bear with me and stick around I promise that I’ll be funny again then. No, really I will. Don’t give me that look, and don’t try the old, ‘You were funny?’ line either. I was funny once. Once.
Oh, stop rolling your eyes like that, they’ll just fall out.
~ “The Internet is for porn!” ~
So sings Trekkie Monster in what has to be the absolute BEST musical on or off Broadway that I have ever seen. Avenue Q is so fricking funny that I almost busted a gut laughing, especially when two of the puppets had sex while ‘Gary Coleman’ sang a song about how you can never be too loud when making love.
Holy crap, it was funny.
If you are ever in NY and are in the least, littlest bit curious about what puppets might look like when they have sex, both oral AND anal, you really must see Avenue Q.
Consider it your purpose in life.
And now, back to Wedding Stuff.
I’ve become a monster.
At what point does an otherwise normal man, with the typical dismissive male attitude towards his own wedding, suddenly become so infatuated with a stupid and trivial wedding decision, the invitation font choice and color for example, that he is willing to throttle his own mother rather than back down from his font of choice? Holy crap, we haven’t even started haggling over the invite list yet!
I just hope my mother doesn’t kick me in the nuts again.
There ought to be a Law.
Women should have to go through life with a rattle. And I don’t mean some sort of baby rattle that they shake when they want something brought to them by the studly Cabana Boy at their weekend country club, either. I’m talking about a scary rattle, not unlike that of a cornered rattlesnake. A rattle so frightening that the instant you hear it you’ll break out in a sweat so cold that you’re almost thankful for the spreading warmth of your suddenly soiled undergarments.
Now isn’t that a delightful image?
Women should be made to shake this rattle every time they say something that sounds reasonable and calm, but is actually dangerous and insane. Shall I give you an example?
GeekMan: “Hey Honey, I’m going out to see the guys tonight for dinner. I’ll be back around 11pm, k?”
HoBiscuit [angry]: “What? But we were supposed to be spending tonight together! I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks!”
GeekMan: “Oh Honey, I forgot! I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot about that, but the guys have tickets to (something) and you know how much I like (something)… Would you like me to call the guys and tell them I can’t go? I could do that, or I could make it up to you tomorrow.”
HoBiscuit [angrier]: “You forgot?! About me?!”
GeekMan: “No HoBiscuit, I didn’t forget about you. I only forgot that we were going to stay in tonight because the guys told me about (something) and I got all excited to see (something). I’ll call them and cancel, it’s not a problem and they’ll understand. If you let me go though, I promise to make it up to you tomorrow, ok?”
HoBiscuit [suddenly very calm and understanding]: “Fine. You go out with the guys and I’ll stay home tonight.”
GeekMan [wary]: “Are you sure, because I could always tell the guys I can’t make it. I know what tonight meant to you and I have no problem ditching the guys. You’re MUCH more important to me than they are.”
HoBiscuit [nonchalant]: “No. You go out and have a good time. I’ll be just fine. Really.”
[rattle]
See? SEE?! That rattle sound would have saved my fricking life!