It’s funny because it’s true.

Act 2, Scene 3 – The Interrogation

Fade in.

Agent Bread:
“As you can see, we’ve had our eye on you for some time now, Mr. Mann. It seems that you’ve been living two lives. In one life, you’re Geek T. Mann, graphic designer for a pathetically small home business, you have a social security number, you pay your taxes, and you help your fiancé do her laundry. Taking extra-special care with her tiny, thong underwear that you enjoy trying on before washing.”

GeekMan:
“What?! How did you..? Uh… I mean, I never do that! Never!”

Agent Bread:
“Mr. Mann, you’re wearing a pair right now. Are you not?”

GeekMan:
“…”

Agent Bread:
“…”

GeekMan:
“Bastard.”

Agent Bread:
“Indeed. As I was saying Mr. Mann, you’ve been living two lives. That was one. The other life is lived in computers, where you go by the idiotic alias ‘GeekMan’ and are guilty of writing the worst, most unfunny drivel ever to be vomited upon the poor, unsuspecting denizens of the internet. You do this while at the same time breaking virtually every rule for good writing that we have a rule for.”

GeekMan:
“That’s not true! I haven’t broken every rule!”

Agent Bread [raising eyebrow]:
“Indeed, Mr. Mann?”

GeekMan:
“In-frickin-deed, you Gestapo bastard. I, uh, can spel good so’s my word usages be’eth corekt and spelt rite, I don’t, uh, use, erm, excessive… uh, commas, or, uh… sound effects as, ahhh, words, neither do I ever have changed tenses mid sentence or used much more than all the necessary words to have a sentence completed without the use of excessive or redundant words within the sentence since I also haven’t ever created run-on sentences for the sake of cramming as much info into the one sentence as inhumanly possible or ever used excessive exclamation points!!!”

Agent Bread:
“Riiiiiight.”

GeekMan:
“Damn straight.”

Agent Bread:
“As I was saying Mr. Mann, one of those lives has a future, and one of them does not. I’m going to be as forthcoming as I can be, Mr. GeekMan. You’re here because we need your help. We know that you’ve been slacking in your regular updates lately. Now whatever you think you may need, time off, a break, a vacation, is irrelevant. Your feelings in this matter are irrelevant. Your sanity is irrelevant.”

GeekMan:
“Well, if I’m so frickin irrelevant, then what is relevant?”

Agent Bread:
“Updates.”

GeekMan:
“Updates?”

Agent Bread:
“Yes, Updates. My colleagues believe that I am wasting my time with you but I believe that you wish to do the right thing. We’re willing to wipe the slate clean, give you a fresh start and all that we’re asking in return is your cooperation in this small matter.”

GeekMan:
“Yeah. Wow, that sound like a really good deal. But I think I got a better one. How about I give you the finger… and you give me my life back.”

Agent Bread:
“Mr. Mann. You disappoint me.”

GeekMan:
“Watch me cry. You can’t scare me with this Gestapo crap. You’re not real. This web site isn’t real. None of this is real. I had a life once and I want it back.”

Agent Bread [ugly smile]:
“Tell me, Mr. Mann. What good is having a life if we won’t let you live it?”

GeekMan:
“You wouldn’t!”

Agents advance on GeekMan.

Agent Bread:
“You’re going to write for us, Mr. Mann, whether you want to or not.”

GeekMan:
“No. No! NNNNOOOOOooooo!”

Cut to GeekMan’s apartment. He is rudely awakened by the buzzing of his alarm clock. Shaking his head in disbelief, he heads to the bathroom to wash up. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and does the world’s worst Neo impersonation.

GeekMan:
“Woah. I know Code-Fu.”

Bread:
“Show me.”

Massive bullet-time, slapping, screeching, sissy fight ending with GeekMan’s bloody and beaten remains lying, face down, in the bathtub.

Bread:
“Now quit slacking off and start updating your frickin site again, ya loser!”

GeekMan:
“Yessir. Right away sir.”

Bread:
“Good. You’re beginning to believe.”

Bread leaves.

GeekMan [crying softly to himself]:
“‘There is no spoon’ my frickin ass.”

Fade to black.

Let’s try a little experiment, shall we?

Today I’m just going to write whatever comes to mind and I’m not going to edit what I write at all. That’s right, I won’t even spell check. I wonder if I’ll actually have anything funny to say if I don’t actually think about what I’m going to say.

So, here I am. Typing.

La la la. Tickity-tack, tickity-tack.

…

I wonder if those are periods, dots or ellipses?

Well, so far this experiment is a colossal waste of time. Nothing funny is coming to mind and suddenly I have writers block. Well, not really. I could always write something stupid. But then, that wouldn’t be any different than any other day, now would it?

I’m a boring, unfunny schmuck, aren’t I?

Wait, I can write something if I just concentrate a little. How about trying some writing exercises? Hmmm, what to try? Oh yeah, the “repetition” method. So, choose a word at random and then type whatever comes to mind. Right. I can do this. So, think of a word, Geek. One word. Just a single word. Comeon! I can do this, I know it!

…

Dammit.

OK, well, dammit’s a word, right? We can go with that. Let’s make dammit work for us. Dammitdammitdammitdammit. That’s a fun word to say isn’t it? Dammit. Hah! I like saying that word. It makes me feel like my mouth is moving in the same way a fish out of water gasps for air. Hahahahaha! Stupid fish, he shouldn’t be out of the water. The water is his home. Does he think he’s too good for his home? Does the stupid fish think he’s special? Why? He’s not special, he’s just a fish. He should go home before he dies. But he thinks he’s too good for his home, huh? Home’s not good enough for you? FINE.

Stupid fish. Go ahead and suffocate. See if I care.

Well, now what should I do? Should I keep writing, or just end this stupidity before someone comes over here and puts me out of my misery? Maybe I should stop. My stomach feels kinda weird, like a bubble or something is inside me trying to get out. You know, come to think on it I almost feel as if I have to…

Ahhhhhhh…

Heh, I just farted.

Maybe if I sit real still it won’t stink. Ok, I won’t move, not a muscle. Here I am, not moving, please don’t stink or the people in this office will never hire me again and I really need the money so I can pay for the wedding. Please don’t stink, please don’t stink, pleasepleaseplease, oh please…

Holy crap! Wheee-ooo! What the hell did I eat for lunch!?

OK, that’s it, I’m done. This experiment sucks and I swear I’ll never do something this idiotic again. From now on its plan ahead before I write or I just skip that days post and count my blessings. Stupid, stupid experiment. I can’t believe I wrote about farting. I’m so frickin embarrassed I think I’ll drown my sorrows in a carbonated beverage in another part of this office far, far away from the smell I’ve just invented that appears to be removing the paint from the ceiling.

Heh, I bet that stupid fish wishes he was back in the water now, huh?

I had a dream last night.

I know, I know. You’re shocked and amazed. Believe me, I was too. I mean my dream wasn’t anything too amazing but since I rarely remember my dreams, I thought it would be fun to tell you about it.

It won’t make sense, but then again, who the hell cares?

It starts off, as most of my dreams do, with me in a public place trying to hide the fact that I’ve forgotten my pants. This dream takes place at an outdoor mall and my teeny-tiny penis is flapping in the wind for all the shoppers to see. Of course, as is the way with dreams, no one else seems to be aware of my lack of body covering until the Dalai Lama rides up on a yellow llama and asks me why I’m naked. Then, and only then, does everyone in the area stop to point and laugh at me.

Mortified, I punch the Dalai Lama in the face and run away.

Turning a corner, I’m suddenly in the middle of a vital business meeting and there is something very, very important I’m supposed to be doing. Unfortunately for me I can’t remember what it was, but I do know that I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget to do it.

Then I remember that I left the note in my pants pocket.

Knowing how important the note is to my career, I jump on a nearby jet airplane to go home and get the note. During the trip, the plane somehow turns into the helicopter from the movie Blue Thunder being piloted by someone who looked like Thelma from Scooby Doo, but thinner.

Come on, you know she was a tiger in bed. The brainy ones always are.

Anywaste, she tells me we’re under attack so I jump out and land on the roof of my house right before the helicopter blows up. Running inside my house I find that it’s now the world’s largest library and what I need to find is not a simple note in my pants, but a book hidden somewhere in the library.

And I’ve only got ten minutes to find it or I’m fired.

As I’m frantically searching the library for the book, Frankie Muniz (Malcolm, from Malcolm in the Middle) shows up and challenges me to a fight. For some reason or other I agree to fight him and suddenly I’m in a boxing ring getting my butt kicked by a 16 year old kid while HoBiscuit is screaming from the sidelines, “Kick that Geeks ass, Frankie!” Just as he’s about to knock me out, my alarm clock goes off and I wake up. And the strange thing was that when I woke up I wasn’t wearing any pants.

So, anyone want to explain the meaning of this one to me? Anyone?

1. I have memorized, and can actually perform, every dance move from Pat Benatar’s ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ video.
2. As a young man I once did the penis-between-the-legs ‘what if’ thing and let me tell you, I looked H-O-T HOT!
3. I sing show tunes and Erasure songs in the shower.
4. I know when and how to correctly use the phrase, “Oh honey, you look fabulous!”
5. I get the Sunday NY Times for the circulars and the fashion section.
6. It takes me longer to get ready to go out to dinner than any woman I know.
7. I actually enjoy going to outlet malls. Even the ones without a Best Buy, Software Etc. or Sony store.
8. I can tell the difference between fuchsia and magenta colored throw pillows.
9. As a teenager I owned and read every Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew book written. Yeah, even the crossover books.
10. I love watching Trading Spaces and on TLC. I’m just waiting for the day Vern jumps Ty. Yeah, Baby! YEAH!

This is the story I promised everyone.

It took me a little over ten hours to write it, so I really hope it doesn’t suck as much as I think it does. It was much, much harder than I thought it would be and I really want to thank everyone who sent in an entry. If I didn’t use your entry, please don’t be angry with me. It’s not because your sentence wasn’t good, it’s just that I couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

Damn, this was REALLY hard.

Since it’s much longer than I thought it would be (10 pages as a Word doc) I’ve decided to use the extended entry format of MT to post it. Click the link at the bottom of this post to open it up to read, and please remember to leave me a comment about my lack of writing skilz.

What can I say; I’m a glutton for punishment.

Also, I’ll be gone for the next week on another job so I won’t be posting anything until Monday, May 12. I Hope everyone has a wonderful time while I’m away.

Play nice and remember to clean up after yourselves.

Enjoy.
Continue reading →

Here’s your chance to get some Geeky Linky-Love.

I’m going to try a little experiment and you’re going to help. I want you to write a wacky, silly, strange or otherwise nonsensical sentence and then email it to me. I’ll use the top ten or twenty sentences I receive in a story, depending of course on the amount of entries I receive. I’ll post the story here next Friday and I’ll even link your sentence back to your website so everyone will know just how clever, witty and funny you really are.

Before you fire up your favorite word processor, here’s some simple ground rules.

The sentence you send should be in English and be no more than twenty words long, although those words can be of any length. The sentence can be about anything at all, but please no curse words. Any entries containing curse words will not be used and yes, that means you too, mom. You may send as many entries as you wish, but each entry must be in a separate email. Only one entry per website will be used in the final story. GeekMan reserves the right to not use your entry no matter how clever you might think it is. Even if it does involve llamas. Once submitted, all entries become the property of The Mighty Geek. All entries must be received by 11pm EST, Wednesday April 30, 2003.

Email your entries to: geekman at the mighty geek d0t c0m

That’s it. There’s no prize money or gifts being offered here, just the chance to see your words used in a weird and (hopefully) funny way. Well, that and perhaps the gift of a few meager click-throughs from the readership here at The Might Geek. Now dream up a few zany words and string them together so I can write something funny for you next week.

And don’t forget to spell check!

Hukt on Foniks iz thuh best!

Thanks too thuh gud peepuhl at Hukt on Foniks, I hav lernd to ryt reel well. After only three weeks, I haf improovd my ryting skilz so muhch that I no longer need to yooz Mycrowsoft Wordz spel cheker! I am so prowd uff myself fowr lerning how to ryt that I haf desided to tehl thuh world abowt it ryt heer on my vehrri own web syte. And, for thuh first tym evah, I’m not going to yooz thuh spel cheker befoor I pohst!

Ha! I bet yoo did naht even notiss thuh diffurrenss!

I wood lyk to giff uh big showt owt to awl thuh peepuhl who haff mayd this day posseebuhl for me. Brehd, for giffing me thuh kik in my ass that I needed to fynuhllee admit my prahblem and ehnroll in thuh Hukt on Foniks prohgrahm. Miz Ex-Bahks, for teeching me that in lyf there iz no reset buhttuhn. And, of coors, the luhvlee and beyootihfull HoBizkit. She wuhz my inspuhrayshun threwowt this hohl ordeal. She wuz my lyt, my guyding stahr and my rok. Withowt her by my syd I wood nehver haff mayd it throo thuh prohgrahm too becuhm thuh wonderfuhl ryter that I am tooday.

HoBizkit, I luhv yoo.

So, I hohp my cuhming forward will serff az an exahmpuhl too all uff yoo who may haff thuh saym prahblem I did. Doo naht bee skayrd too stahnd uhp and admit that yoo haff a prahblem. It iz nehver too layt too lern thuh ryt way too ryt. Yoo ahr nehver too ohld too lern how to spel! And won day, three weeks after yoo stahrt thuh prohgrahm, yoo too will bee prowd too say;

“Hukt on Foniks wurkt for ME!“

Citizens, Behold! A new Heroic Team is born!

The meek and timid mass of humanity living within the Big City need never fear the mechanizations of the villainous underworld lying just beneath the surface of their ordinary world again. The good people of AnySmall Town have two new defenders of Justice, two new Protectors of the Way, two new Heroes of Note who are willing to fight for the rights of The Little Guy.

And to them, we are all ‘The Little Guys’.

They shall protect the people of their world, these Mighty Saviors, this Dynamic Duo. No crime shall go unpunished while they are on duty. No shifty-eyed super-villain will escape from the vice-like grip of their Pincers of Righteousness. They are the Defenders of the Defenseless. They will dictate to the Dictator and be heard. They are the Right Hand of Justice, the Left Foot of Freedom, the Throbbing Sexual Organ of Democracy.

They are Bush Master and The Blair Bitch!

Empty-headed public speakers by day, these two Fighters of the Good Fight are ever-ready to jump into action. Sliding down Cleverly Hidden Poles in their secluded mansion whenever the Walkie-Talkie of Imminent Danger should glow with an Amber Alert, they reach the Secret Cave of Pleasure Wonder and don their Plastic & Lycra Battle Suits, complete with Nipple Plates & Codpiece, to rid the world of the evildoers who would threaten the liberties of those under their protection. Their Fanny Packs of Many Uses containing all their tricks and toys for fighting crime belted tightly to their waists.

Bush-A-Rangs and Ultimatum Nunchucks included.

Jumping into The Mighty Mini, Big Dubya and the Boy Blunder race off into the night in search of danger, adventure and any wrongs they need to make right. Perhaps there has been another cowardly attack on Gotham by Osama, The Riddlizer? Could it be that Frances François, better known as Two-Faced, is causing trouble again? Or is it another sick and twisted game being played by their arch-enemy Saddam, the Practical Jokester? Whatever it is, whatever the cost, you can be sure that Bush Master and the Blair Bitch are out there right now, doing everything they can to protect Joe Sixpack and Jane Boxowine from the evils of the world around them.

BushMaster and The Blair Bitch. Coming next season to the WB. Be There!

Thanks to Solonor for pointing this stupidity out to me.

This is a Geek TV newsbreak.

We, the producers of the drivel collectively known as Geek TV, have discovered something that, although culturally, emotionally, intelligently and economically insignificant to the people of the world, we still feel needs to be sensationalized beyond all rational proportions until it becomes the next product of mass hysteria. It’s not that we feel left out of the whole Duct Tape Fiasco of 2003; it’s just that that train has already left the station and we can’t afford to miss the next trend or our already skittish sponsors will leave us and move over to reruns of Punky Brewster.

Or, worse yet, Dr. Phil.
[shudder]

It has come to the attention of this station that there is a crisis brewing on the internet. A crisis of almost biblical proportions. It’s not an immanent cyber-attack on the internets DNS servers or even the outbreak of a new and more destructive computer virus. What we’re bringing to your attention today is something worse, much worse.

Blogageddon is upon us.

That’s right citizens, Blogs all over the web are disappearing, falling silent, changing their main focus or being taken over by evil, power-mad psychopaths bent on using other people’s websites for their own egomaniacal plans of world domination.

One poor victims name is Dave.

Dave, of Acerbia.com, is a Bloggerville citizen who believed he needed to ‘take a break’ from the rigors of Blogging for a while. Somehow, he was convinced to hand over his site to a gaggle of different Bloggers from around the net and they began using Dave’s own site to further their nefarious plans. They claimed that their own sites had been destroyed due to something called a ’server crash’, but after an exhaustive 15 minute search involving one email and a couple of online chats with an anonymous source, we at Geek TV have found no proof of such an outage.

We now believe that Dave was being mind controlled.

When contacted by Geek TV, Dave would neither confirm nor deny that he was under the control of his new ‘guests’. He merely said, “I was promised boobies. They promised me boobies. Even Miguel promised me boobies.” over and over again.

Geek TV believes that ‘boobies’ is a new type of drug.

Another victim of this latest terrorist threat is poor Stacy of Blogatelle. When asked when her very popular web log would return, Stacy is quoted as saying, “My frickin server crashed you frickin morons! I’ll be back when I frickin feel like it. Now get that frickin camera out of my frickin face before I shove it up your frickin ass! Sideways!”

[chuckling]
Oh that Stacy, always the kidder.
[/chuckling]

Miss Michele of A Small Victory isn’t one who’s lost her site or been the subject of a takeover, but her story is tragic nevertheless. In the last year Michele has gone from writing witty, funny, introspective and sometimes vitriolic personal stories to writing witty, funny, introspective and sometimes vitriolic political stories. And as this story was being written, she has suddenly begun to question her writing and is thinking of going back to writing witty, funny, introspective and sometimes vitriolic personal stories yet again!

This can only be the work of evil incarnate, Osama Bin Laden.

When asked to comment for this story Michele said, “What the hell do you mean, ‘if I stop writing about political crap the terrorists will win’? I’m tired of writing about it and if I want to stop then I bloody well will stop and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now leave me alone you frickin jackhole before I call Stacy over here and watch her shove that frickin camera up your ass!”

[chuckling]
Ah Michele, she’s a class act all the way.
[/chuckling]

We at Geek TV believe these three, Dave, Stacy and Michele are only the tip of the iceberg. We are positive that there are many others out there who are suffering the same fate as these three hapless individuals, but they just don’t know it. We want the world to know about all the sites out there that have suddenly and ominously disappeared, changed their focus or been taken over.

Tell us of your pain, citizens. We are here for you.

No one else has given a thought to the consequences of these tragic events; they’re too busy thinking of themselves. Someone needs to speak up for the hapless people who have been forgotten by the rest of the world. Are we all so selfish? Are we too busy thinking of only ourselves to speak up on behalf of others? Well, we here at Geek TV are always ready and willing to open our mouths without thinking on someone else’s behalf.

Someone like GeekMan.

GeekMan, of The Pathetic Mighty Geek, disappeared from the web almost three months ago. He claims it was due to an overwhelming workload, but we now believe he may have been under the influence of ‘boobies’ or possibly even some other, more powerful, drug called ‘Moolah’. A close, personal friend of GeekMan who goes by the name ‘Bread’ explained why GeekMan had suddenly returned to Blogging;

“He frickin craves attention. He’s like some big, stupid circus clown. Y’know? The annoying kind? Yeah, with the nose that squeaks and the lapel flower that squirts water. If he isn’t the center of attention he gets all sulky and whiney and he becomes unbearable. You do realize that he’s only writing this whole frickin story in the hopes that the popular Blogs will link to him and drive up some traffic, right? He’s such a pathetic link-whore. It’s sad, really. Tragic.”

GeekMan could not be reached for comment.