I am a miraculous man, able to scale 6 story buildings in a single afternoon without a net. I am a master of disguise, able to become invisible at will. Animals and small children adore me, women love me and plants fear me. My face can bloody any man or woman’s fist. I have dropped the bomb, I’ve pushed the button, I’ve made the difference.
My Excruciatingly Painful Tacos have been banned in 3 countries.
On odd-numbered Thursdays, I translate proper English into southern twang for underprivilaged children in North Dakota. I concoct my own cologne from beeswax, salt, vinegar and horse manure. I woo women by walking on water while playing “The Farmer in the Dell” on my gold-plated kazoo. I am my own worst enemy.
I got a 4.5 out of 5.
I can throw myself at the ground and miss. I design internationally acclaimed felt tipped markers. I’m a superb rubber band marksman, a master builder of military forts and an immortal demigod from Valhalla. When cornered, I can shed my skin to escape my attackers. In my spare time, I create whole universes through an effort of shear will and the addition of a teaspoon of distilled water.
I am not Tetsuo.
Critics from every corner of the globe rave about my original line of human body hair pajamas. I have been featured in many E! Hollywood True Story, VH1 Behind the Music and Wild! Discovery documentaries. When bored I create bellybutton lint sculptures to international acclaim. I am second to none, I live on three planes of existence, I have seen the fourth dimension, I am the fifth Beatle.
I just farted.
I enjoy watching barely clothed cartoon women cavort on TV. On weekends, I build sexy anime models from old toothpaste, corn dogs and common condiments. I patented dirt, I have a copyright on the Preamble and I own the trademark on the color green.
I have been the Geek of the Week.
I am the proud owner of the world’s largest collection of empty threats. I make no relationship decisions without my Magic Eight Ball and some old tea leaves. I sometimes engage in full contact stamp collecting. I like the color purple but hate the movie. I have been behind the scenes, under cover of the night, over the hill and far away. Foreign governments regularly contact me for my opinion on their economic policies. The President has me on speed dial.
I dated the real Barbie.
Sometimes I can be found standing at the end of a tunnel with a flashlight and a sign that says, “Just Kidding.” I have been known to survive for weeks on nothing more than white bread, butter and thinly sliced, unsalted ham. I do not need sleep.
I have been published.
I read, I write and I draw. I can create a photocopy of any document using nothing more than a green fluorescent light and a piece of charcoal. I can add, subtract and multiply but I cannot divide. Once, on a dare, I used my extensive knowledge of nuclear physics to dose myself with gamma radiation, grow huge muscles and turn green. I have replaced most of the world leaders with perfect look-alike robots who obey my every other command.
I own a penguin.
I dug the Queens-Midtown Tunnel in NYC with a single plastic spork, built the Taj Mahal out of toothpicks and was the head architect of the great pyramids in Egypt. On the weekends, to make extra income, I breed prizewinning killer gnats. I have replaced most of my own internal organs with silly-putty.
I have won an Anti-Bloggie.
I can speak to the dead but not hear them. I am modest and patient and damn sexy. People travel from all over the world to see and hear my Very Expensive Home Theater System only to be turned away by my personal bouncer, Schlomo “Big Daddy” Bernstien. I have seen the world from space, been a Navy SEAL, visited the Lost World and dated a porn star. I have a photographic memory, superhuman strength and x-ray vision.
And yet, I am still a Geek.