Another Great Idea

While singing “I’ve Got the Soap World on a String” in the shower this morning, after rinsing and before repeating, I had a ‘Great Idea’. Capital G, capital I. Everyone knows that most of the world’s ‘Great Ideas’ were originally thought up while in the shower and this is no exception. I think my idea ranks right up there with such awe inspiring Great Ideas as the Magic 8-Ball, styrofoam coffee cups and sticky notes. I don’t think it’s as good as Olive Loaf, but then again what could possibly top the combination of green olives (with pimentos!) and some form of unidentifiable meat? Some say the guy who invented olive loaf wasn’t right in the head. They say he was insane and I really must agree because he was crazy.

Crazy like a fox.

Anyway, someone out there might actually like this new idea of mine. Now, I know I don’t have a great track record for ‘Great Ideas’ and even though my last idea of breading mini-llamas as pets for apartment-dwelling city aristocrats was stopped by PETA, I think this new idea has merit. Mostly because unlike the time I thought freezing Lake Ontario and turning it into a giant ice-skating rink would be really cool, this new idea is actually doable!

Y’see, I think someone should start a Blog Magazine.

That’s right, a magazine in paper form devoted to online journals, blogs, webcams and the people who maintain them. I see you rolling your eyes out there, but think about it. There’s a built in audience of thousands of bloggers out there who would buy every copy that they could get their wretched, carpal-tunnel, claw-like hands on in the hopes of seeing their blog mentioned somewhere inside. And because we all know that bloggers are attention loving, vain, media-whores they would all try to come up with a gimmick or hook to garner the attention of such a magazine regardless of whether the attention was positive or negative. It would become every bloggers aspiration to get a write-up in the “Blog Review” section of the magazine and once such a goal is accomplished, most bloggers would start an entirely new site just to try again.

Advertisers selling everything from hosting services to branded merchandise to “hip” clothing to webcams would flock to such a magazine. There could be sections in the magazine like Behind the Blog, Webcam Expose and Meme of the Moment. Each blog reviewed could be listed in a yearly special edition. The magazine wouldn’t even need an advertising budget since every blog they wrote about would in turn write about, and link to, the magazine. It would be a viscous circle of linky-love that could only lead to an ever-larger circulation for the magazine.

My god, it would be bigger than Yahoo, Internet Life.

If someone does create this magazine all I ask is for some form of acknowledgement in the masthead and to be reviewed in the first issue. That and 5% of the magazines yearly gross. That’s before taxes people. Don’t get cheap on your poor friend GeekMan once you make it big, or he’ll be forced to hunt you down and beat your fist bloody with his face. And trust me, you wouldn’t like all that blood on your new shirt. It’s very hard to get bloodstains out of material like that.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, the nice men in white coats are here and want me to put on my warm coat that buckles in the back. They seem upset that I haven’t eaten my ‘special’ M&M’s yet and I think they want me to drink the nasty juice that makes my head foggy again. Buh-Bye.

The Cold That Wouldn’t Die

Ah-Freakin-Choo.

I just can’t seem to shake this stupid cold. Yesterday, HoBiscuit my girlfriend and I went for a walk around the city for no reason other than it was a beautiful day. Within a few blocks I was sweating as if I had been running a marathon through the Amazon jungle wearing a fur-lined, full body rubber suit. Naturally, being a card-carrying, certified macho man (without the Village People mustache, thank you), I ignored my quickly deteriorating condition until HoBiscuit my girlfriend tried to hug me and became repulsed by the sweat she squeezed from my clothing like dirty dishwater from a sponge. Of course, I told her I was fine and only needed a drink of water to recharge my batteries and even though I was obviously lying, she took what I said at face value because there was a great shoe sale going on a few blocks away.

Not really, but it does sound plausible, doesn’t it?

Actually, we headed back home where I proceeded to collapse into a pathetic, jiggling mass of wimp flavored jelly. HoBiscuit my girlfriend helped pour me into bed and the rest of the night is a blur of fevered nightmares and really, really bad Steven Seagal movies.

Yeah, that’s right, Steven Seagal movies.

Y’see, instead of being a smart Geek and going right to sleep, I somehow managed to stay awake and watch The Glimmer Man on TNT’s Movies for Guys Who Like Movies crapfest. In my defense I want it to be known that in my delirious state I must have been trying to frighten the cold away by subjecting it to the worst movie I could find on such short notice. By definition, any Seagal movie is bad, but The Glimmer Man goes above and beyond the call of duty by being so bad that the roaches in HoBiscuits my girlfriends apartment came out of hiding and demanded to be sprayed with Raid to end their suffering. I actually sat there, like some fungal growth that lacked the brainpower to use its newly formed, Darwinian granted appendages, and watched that entire putrid excuse for a movie while the remote control sat on the couch right next to me. Every five minutes HoBiscuit my girlfriend would ask me if I wanted to watch something else or go to sleep and I don’t think I ever answered her coherently.

I must have been in some cold-induced brain fog because for the life of me I swear I don’t know why I didn’t change the channel or at least use the remote to slit my wrists and end the agony.

Although I am still sick fear not dear reader, because the Mighty Geek is feeling better today and has decided to take it easy for the next few days. My goal this week is to surgically fuse my skinny, hairy ass to the Comfy-Couch of Super-Sleep and eat my body weight in Cup-O-Ramen soup. I figure that if I don’t recover by Friday then I might actually need to see a doctor. And as any guy knows, seeing a doctor is tantamount to admitting that you might not be an indestructible, costumed superhero in disguise. We all know that every man in the world believes deep down in his secret, hidden soul that he is either a rock star or a superhero. I know I can’t sing, as the many restraining orders against me from karaoke bars attest, so it stands to reason that I must be a superhero who has some sort of amnesia.

No doubt my pathetic life is nothing less than a plot to destroy me masterminded by my archenemy, whose name escapes me right now but who will make his evil plans known to me at some future date. Oh, the humanity.

Well, I’m off to the CCoSS to watch The Great Muppet Caper now. And to help keep everyone happy while I’m laughing so hard my snot hits my tv, here’s the first and only picture of me I’ve ever posted. Enjoy.

I'm a super hero!

I’m a Star!

According to my site stats, I had 1,746 visitors (or 48,070 page hits) during the month of August. They can’t all be me either, because I haven’t perfected my PERL Automatic Page Reloading Instant Karmic A-lister script (PAPRIKA for short). Although I don’t think I’ll ever have a huge readership like some other Blog/journals out there, it’s my secret desire to somehow garner a small select group of loyal fans that enjoy my sucking-of-the-teeth-while-rolling-your-eyes bad attempts at humor enough to keep coming back. Since August was only the third month that TMG existed (and the first month of actual content) having so many visitors really blows my mind. To all of you who not only had the courage to read this site but the fortitude to return for more, I humbly thank you. To my mother, stop hitting F5.

Below is an excerpt from a mock interview for a “Behind the Site” type entry I was going to put up to amuse myself with just in case I had no visitors at all. At 1:30am this part still seemed really funny to me so I figured I’d post it anyway and maybe you’d like it too. Enjoy.

BTS

“So, tell me more about your web site, The Mighty Geek.”

GM

“Well, Dave…”

BTS

“My name is Richard.”

GM

“I knew that. Well Rob…”

BTS

“Richard.”

GM

“You’re interrupting me.”

BTS

“Sorry.”

GM

“May I finish, Richard?”

BTS

*sigh* “Please.”

GM

“Where was I? Oh yes. Well Rick, I love myself. Really, I just can’t seem to get enough of me and I think everyone else needs to understand how awe-inspiringly perfect I am and how unimportant and worthless they are. Especially when you consider that they are not me. That’s why I have my web site. I really do all of this just for me so I can go back and re-read all the witty, intelligent, funny and interesting things I have to say about myself, but I feel my site can also help educate my public about all things me. It’s like, people sometimes ask me what I want on my tombstone when I die and I always reply, “Nothing, because once I’m gone all of you will realize just how worthless you are, and the universe will cease to exist out of self pity.”

BTS

“You really think you’re that special?”

GM

“Of course! I’ve been known to stand in front of the mirror in restaurant bathrooms for an hour or more at a time just looking at the perfection that is me. Sometimes I even talk to my reflection, telling myself how special, smart and good-looking I am. I know people are jealous so if anyone knocks on the door I make poo-poo noises until they go away. I feel that if only more people knew how perfect I was they would realize they should try to be more like me. My site is just my way of reaching out to all you little people who so desperately need my help. I know it takes time out of my busy schedule of watching home movies of myself to write my entries about me on my site, but I feel I have to. Everyone out there is so obviously in need of role models like me that I think it’s the least I can do to try and help them in some small way by showing them how much better than them I am. I mean, I certainly don’t need them so they must need me. Right?”

HoBiscuit

Snippet of a slightly embellished conversation with my girlfriend:

MightyGeek “Y’know, I need a name for you on my site. Calling you ‘girlfriend’ all the time is getting tedious.”

Girlfriend “OK. How about SlutPuppy?”

MG “Pardon?”

GF “Slut. Puppy.”

MG “You want me to call you SlutPuppy? On my website? For the whole world to see?”

GF (Laughing) “OK. OK. How about HoBiscuit?”

MG “Ho. Biscuit.”

GF *Uncontrolled giggling*

MG “Sigh. Well, at least it sounds a little classier than Slutpuppy. HoBiscuit could almost be a new cracker from Nabisco.”

GF (Laughing) “Don’t you write about this, ok? I don’t want people to think I’m crazy or anything.”

MG “Oh, this is soooo getting blogged.”

I have the coolest girlfriend. Ever.

I Still Need A Vacation

Well, I’m back. There will be no apologies made for my lack of posting while I was away because I had no internet connection while on board the ship. Even worse, after my last post from Puerto Rico the cruise only stopped at one more island (St. Thomas). That’s right, I didn’t get to see St. Maarten or Bermuda due to another hurricane (Dean). So all in all, I didn’t get to go where I wanted to go and I didn’t get to go where I didn’t want to go either.

Sometimes life can be really cruel.

We were stuck on the ship so long that my girlfriend actually got a shuffleboard-related injury. She insists that her left buttock is in considerable pain due to too much shuffleboard. Don’t let the innocent almost slow-motion-like movements fool you. Shuffleboard is a full contact sport only to be played by professionals or the very elderly.

She is soooooo out of shape. And I am sooooo dead.

I’ll be posting a full story complete with pictures about my Cruise From Hell later today or tomorrow. Some highlights will be finding out our itinerary had changed, things to do while stuck on board a ship, pictures of fabulous water ripples and don’t miss the mutiny on board by unhappy passengers. Yes, there was an actual ”mutiny” of about 500 passengers who were even more upset than I was about the horrible cruise. By the last day they were talking about calling their lawyers and some were even talking about calling the media.

As if the media doesn’t have anything better to do with their time than listen to a bunch of overwieght, buffet-loving old ladies and trailer-trash bitch and moan because they didn’t enjoy their cruise. I can understand being upset about the situation, but some of these people needed to relax and get a life that doesn’t include Jerry Springer or Cheeto’s. Getting riled up while still on board is only going to make a bad situation worse.

Until I post the full story later, let me sum up my experience on board the ship by saying that if it wasn’t for the wonderful people my girlfriend and I sat with at our dinner table, the entire cruise would have been a complete waste of time and money. Don’t get me wrong, every other cruise I’ve been on has been wonderful to the extreme. This one just seemed to be bad from the moment we set foot on board.

You know, I should have known it would be bad when we got on board and I saw rats with little suitcases and worried expressions getting off.

Now that that’s over with, let me tell you about the lovely head cold I’ve developed. I’m leaking fluids from every orifice, my ears are stuffed with cotton and my bones ache so badly I think I’d start crying if I so much as farted. Right now I’m going to take some drugs, go lie down on my Comfy-Couch of Super-Sleep and think mean and spiteful things about everyone in the cruise line business.

Who knows, I might even feel well enough later to post something funny.

A Change In Plans

Hello from cloudy, sweltering, humid, sweaty and hot Puerto Rico! Your favorite geek shouldn’t even be here at all, but due to a little thing called Chantal (hurricane, that is) my whole cruise itinerary has changed from West to East. After having researched every excursion that we could possibly go on for the Western Caribbean cruise, my girlfriend was just a tad upset to find out that we were going to completely different ports of call. Everything will probably work out fine, but right, since we already spent a month in PR 4 months ago, we’re not too excited about being here again.

We’ve done a lot of fun stuff that most people would laugh at if we did it on dry land. We’ve played shuffleboard on the Promenade Deck (really, we did. stop laughing.), bingo bingo bingo, watched Broadway shows get butchered on-stage, danced while a horrible DJ played horrible music, and ate until our lower intestines attempted to cut off the flow of incoming food by reaching up and strangling us.

Then we went to the midnight buffet to beat our digestive system back into submission.

I don’t have internet access on the ship, so no pictures for you. I’ll try and write more when we land on shore at St. Thomas tomorrow.

Vacation Time

Tomorrow I am leaving on a well-deserved vacation. I’ll soon be lying in the sun on Lido Deck, sipping the Cruise Special Drink whilst vestigial virgins massage my tired feet. Yes, dear reader, The Geek is going on a cruise. Pay no heed to the fact that it’s the height of hurricane season and that I might wind up like Leo. Nevermind that the Weather Channel thinks a tropical storm is headed directly towards my travel route. Forget that I could wind up as the main course in Feast of the Giant Sharks. This is my first vacation in four years and I’m not going to let a few minor annoyances like weather or death deter me from enjoying myself. I’m going to soak in hot water till my muscles ooze off my body and form puddles of super-relaxed goo at my feet. I’m gonna bet the deed to my llama on a single roll of the dice at Mr. Evil Casino’s Crap Game of Shame and Destitution. And I’m going to eat my own body weight in lard at the midnight buffet.

I might die, but I’ll die happy dammit.

I’ve begun packing the essentials (One bottle Insta-Tan Lotion. Check. One muscle T-shirt to show off ‘bod’. Check. One pair Danger Flip-Flops. Check) and tidying up my apartment in preparation for my exodus to the Vacationland of Fun and Relaxation. For me, leaving on a vacation is very different from leaving on a business trip. Packing wise, on a business trip I know exactly what I’ll need. Warm, long-sleeve shirts and dress pants. Even if I’m going to be in Brazil during July, I’ll still need warm clothes because all I’ll ever see is the inside of a dark and FREEZING COLD ballroom. That’s right, no sun for our favorite Geek when he’s working. Hell, I’m lucky if I get to eat twice a day with some of these people. But when I’m packing for a vacation, which I haven’t done in years, I find myself looking over a huge pile of clothes and muttering things like,

“You know, I don’t think I’ll need four suits for a 7 day cruise. Maybe I’ll just take three.”

“Do black socks go with sandals?”

“I wonder if I’ll actually wear shorts this time? Maybe I should pack an extra pair of pants, just in case.”

“Will my girlfriend find my tighty-whities sexy, or should I pack my thongs too?”

“Waitaminute! How will I check my email?!?”

At least I know I’ll be able to get the internet while I’m on board. I’m bringing Gunm (my favorite laptop) with me and I’ll have a satellite connection from my stateroom. Of course, that means I’ll be posting from the ship, which I think will be really cool. How many people out there can say they’ve posted an entry from 150 miles out at sea? And if the storm gets me, how many could say they’ve posted from the stomach of a shark?

Now it’s time to get back to packing. I have to be at the airport at 4:45am tomorrow because I’m out of my frigging mind. Why would any sane person choose to leave at that ungodly hour unless it was some kind of life or death emergency? No one, that’s who.

I must really need this vacation.