Geek Life

Fat Bastard

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Rants •   7

Real people, real conversations, real problem.

Upon meeting a female friend I’ve known since high school for the first time in four months the following conversation took place:

Female Friend:
“Hey GeekMan, it’s good to see you! How are you doing?”

GeekMan:
“Hi FF, it’s good to see you too. I’ve been great, just working too hard and…”

[FF pokes GeekMan’s tummy]

GeekMan:
“You did not just poke me in the stomach.”

FF:
“I’m sorry, it’s just so cute! You’ve got a bubble belly!”

GeekMan:
“You know, I never liked you. Ever.”

While showing my new apartment to my brother, Fishman and his fiancé Papaya:

GeekMan:
“So, as you can see, everything’s great here except for the kitchen which we really need to fix up before we actually move in.”

Papaya:
It’s a great place; I love the exposed beams and the hardwood floors! Have you thought about… Oh, WOW!”

GeekMan:
“What?! Is something wrong with the apartment?”

Papaya:
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that… well; I just noticed that you’ve got a pooch! And it’s so cute sticking out from your body like that! Like you’ve just eaten a small basketball.”

GeekMan:
“Did you just call me FAT?!”

Papaya:
“Uhm… No. Not really…”

GeekMan:
“I am NOT fat.”

Papaya:
“There’s no need to shout, I was just observing that you’re stomach is a little rounder that it used to be. You know, people do tend to gain weight as they age…”

GeekMan:
“Now I’m fat AND old?! You insult me in my own home?”

Papaya:
“Oh dear. That’s not what I meant. Fishman, help me out here. Please?”

Fishman:
“Dude, you’re old and fat. Deal with it.”

GeekMan:
“I’d kill you both, but I don’t think I’d ever get the bloodstains out of the floor.”

So, now I’m an old, fat and angry man and I hate it. Especially since HoBiscuit finds it hysterical that everyone, and I do mean everyone, has been pointing out my tummy over the last week. I, on the other hand, didn’t think it was so bad until yesterday when we attended a BBQ at a friend’s house and someone there asked me if I did sit-ups, and when I said no he replied, “Well, you’d lose that gut if you did.”

I would have hit him, but that would have meant, you know, getting up and stuff.

Grandfather’s Big Day

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   4

It sounded like such a good idea.

For Fathers Day my mother, brother and I decided it would be nice to take my grandpa out to lunch. The place we picked was a hip little eatery in Brooklyn that served wonderful food and had a great atmosphere, all of which was completely wasted on my grandpa because all he cared about were the very pretty waitresses and fashion model-esque hostess.

From the moment we entered I knew there’d be trouble.

Hostess:
“Welcome to _____. How many people in your party?”

Grandpa:
“There’s five of us now, but if you’re free I can get rid of the other four.”

After gracefully recovering from this full frontal attack, the hostess showed us to our table where my Grandpa shifted his leering sexual harassment from the hostess to the waitress without even batting an eye.

Waitress:
“Hi, my name is Cassandra. Would you like me to tell you our specials?”

Grandpa:
“How about showing us?”

Waitress:
“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Grandpa:
“Well sweetheart, you look mighty special to me and since it’s Father’s Day how about giving me a little something ‘special’ that’s not on the menu?”

Unable to respond to this, the waitress leaves the table while we berate my grandpa for his horrible manners. Pleading old age and then looking at all of us with a hurt, puppy-dog face, grandpa sulked until the hostess, who was forced to wait on us herself when the waitress refused to come back, came over to take our order. For this next bit, please picture a hot, sexy blonde girl in her early twenties wearing a red velvet dress that barely covers her butt. She is standing at the head of the rectangular table with my grandpa to her immediate left.

Hostess:
“Thank you for your orders. Is there anything else I can do for you until your food is ready?”

Grandpa:
“Could you pass me the salt?”

Hostess:
“Uhm… ok…”

Hostess begins to walk around table to get salt.

Grandpa:
“No sweetheart, not like that. How about staying where you are and just leaning across the whole table to get it?”

Hostess:
“What? But that would…”

Grandpa:
Leering grin of deviancy.

Hostess [realizing what she’s wearing]:
“Oh my god, you are so naughty!”

Grandpa:
“You think so? Well then, I guess you should spank me.”

GeekMan:
“Uhm, your tip is going to cost me a fricking fortune, isn’t it?”

Hostess:
“Oh, hell’s yeah.”

My Day

• by GeekMan • In Experiments, Geek Life •   8

Work. Work. Work.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work.

Frustration.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Web surf. Work. Work. Work. Work. Goof off. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work.

Crisis.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic. Frantic.

Crisis averted.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Web surf. Work. Work. Work. Work. Web surf. Work. Work. Work. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Work. Work. Work. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off. Goof off.

Crisis.

Work. Work. Work. Sweat. Work. Cry. Work. Whimper. Work. Pray. Work. Plead. Work. Pray. Work. Work. Poo bricks. Work. Spaz out. Work. Work. Whimper. Work.

Crash.

Curse. Swear. Curse. Reboot. Curse. Curse. Blaspheme. Curse. Curse. Curse. Swear. Curse. Curse. Sweat. Curse. Curse. Curse. Pray. Curse. Pray. Curse. Curse. Curse. Curse. Cry. Curse. Curse. Curse. Blaspheme. Curse. Reboot. Pray.

Fix.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Workworkworkworkwork.

Crises averted.

Relief. Work. Work. Work. Goof off. Goof off. Work. Work. Goof off. Work. Work. Work. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Work. Work. Work. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Work. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo. Halo.

MAJOR CRISIS.

Work. Work. Work. Curse. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Blaspheme. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Cry. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Whimper. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Workworkworkworkwork.

Death defy.

Work. Work. Work. Work. Surf. Work. Work. Work. Surf. Surf. Work. Surf. Surf. Surf. Surf. Work. Surf. Surf. Surf. Surf. Surf. Surf. Work. Surf. Surf. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog. Blog.

Halo.

Where’s My Cane?

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   2

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stalking.”
“Stalking?”
“Yeah, stalking. You know, like a lion on the hunt?”
“A lion. On the hunt.”
“Exactly.”
*sigh*
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be putting the hurt on this guy, not ‘stalking’ him.”
“Oh, no worries there man, I’ve got a plan.”
“You have a plan? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Ooo, sarcasm. Did you learn that in drama class, or did you think it up all on your own?”
“I’m going to hit you…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. No need to get so grumpy.”
“I ain’t grumpy, I’m just a little tired. I didn’t have a good night’s sleep last night.”
“Maybe it’s all the snoring.”
“For the last time, I do NOT snore!”
“OK, OK, you don’t snore. But if you did, and I’m not saying you do, I’m just saying if you did, you might want to try one of those nose strip thingies. I hear they really work wonders…”
“…”
“What?”
“Now I’m getting grumpy.”
“That’s not good for your mental and emotional well being. Maybe you should take one of those emotional stabilizer-type drugs or something…”

*SMACK*

“Ow! You are grumpy!”
“If you don’t tell me your stupid plan soon I’m going to get even grumpier.”
“Fine. My plan is to wait until he’s busy doing something physically strenuous and then give him the once over. This will serve the dual purposes of maximizing his feelings of pain and discomfort whilst decreasing our pain inducing efforts thus making the Brain even happier.”
“…”
“What?”
“You know something? That’s actually a good plan.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Well then, do I have permission to be proud of myself?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Then I shall now preen and look smug.”
“…”
“…”
“Are you finished?”
“A moment more…”
*sigh*
“OK, now I’m done.”
“Thank you. So, what are we supposed to be waiting for him to do before we put this plan of yours in action?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking it would be best to wait until… LOOK!”
“What?!”
“He’s going to try to lift that heavy suitcase and carry it up the stairs! This is perfect! We should do it now!”
“What, right now?”
“No, even better. Let’s wait until after he’s picked up the heavy bag and is about halfway up the stairs.”
“Oh. Oh! That’s perfect! He’ll never see this coming.”
“OK, he’s got the bag and is heading for the stairs. On the count of three. One… Two…”

This is what ran through my mind as I tumbled down the stairs after my right knee gave out while carrying a heavy bag this afternoon. I can only imagine that my brain is now laughing at me as I moan and groan my way around my apartment trying hard not to us my knees when I walk. Or when I sit down. Or stand up.

Getting old sucks ass.

My Goodness

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life, Home Ownership •   6

I’m feeling pretty good right now.

HoBiscuit and I closed on our very first apartment yesterday and we couldn’t be happier. I mean, we’ve sold off all of our blood, replacing it with Fluffer-Nutter in order to make the final down payment, but still we think it was worth it. Especially around snack time when we use small knives to cut ourselves and bleed onto toast and crackers.

Mmmm, love that Fluffer-Nutter goodness…

Now that we have our very own place to live however, we’ve found that it just doesn’t look or feel exactly the way we KNOW it could look and feel with a little remodeling. Especially the kitchen, which is soooo small that we won’t both be able to work in it at the same time without one of us crawling into the oven to let the other pass by.

Just guess who’ll be getting into the oven.

Anywaste, we’ve decided that the best thing to do is remodel the kitchen and leave the rest of the place alone for now. Mostly because after checking our nonexistent budget and exploring other methods of raising cash we’ve come to realize that selling off body parts no longer brings the premiums they once did, which means we can’t afford to do anything but the kitchen until the market price of human spleens goes back up.

Damn you ebay.

All of which brings us back to yesterday’s question. Everyone assumed I was asking if it was better for a PERSON to look good or to feel good, when I was really wondering if it was better for a PLACE to look good or to feel good. See? I can be clever and enigmatic with the best of them. Face it, I’m smarter than any of you and you’re all feeling inferior to my obviously greater intelligence! I’m a genius living amongst cavemen! I’m like a virtuoso stuck in a polka band, an Einstein forced to ride the short bus, or a Picasso made to paint Pokemon cards!

…

Why are you looking at me like that?

*smack!*

Ow!

See?! This is exactly why I don’t talk at parties.

My Problem

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Traveling •   6

Yesterday my computer died and I lost my post. I’m trying to rewrite that post but in the meantime here’s something to keep you busy.

Facts;

  • While traveling to California I was “accidentally” hit on the back of the head with a cane by an old lady trying to stuff an entire body-bag full of knitting materials into the overhead bin above my seat.
  • While in California two very polite police officers kindly explained to me that people do not jaywalk to cross a street. As an added bonus, I was given a piece of paper as a ‘souvenir’ to help me remember this life lesson in the future.
  • While driving the roads of California I discovered that Californian maps lie. For what seems like a fairly straight road on a map will be discovered as being a twisting, narrow, dizzying and dangerous Highway Of Madness, also known as Highway 1.
  • While in California I discovered, much to my dismay, that I am no longer impervious to sunshine. Whereas on the east coast I used to be able to lay all day in the sun without fear of a burn or even any type of significant tan, in California I seem to be unable to spend more than 30 seconds out of doors without looking like I’ve been covered in orange paint and dipped into an industrial deep fryer.
  • Before vacationing in California I had a wife who was excited to visit ancient caves, climb tall mountains and walk forest trails. After vacationing in California I have a wife who has discovered she is afraid of the dark & enclosed spaces, who feels faint at the thought of climbing stairs past the second floor of an apartment building and who loves nature only when viewed in air-conditioned comfort through car windows while going 55mph.
  • Contrary to commonly held easterner beliefs, the west coast is not always warm. It would have been nice to know this before I packed my suitcase full of sexy, super-tight weightlifter shorts and spandex wifebeater t-shirts.
  • In California almost everyone is a plastic surgeon or has had plastic surgery. I know this because as I walked the streets in the above mentioned outfits I was accosted by every third person I passed and told that they, or someone they knew, could help me with my “little problem”. Usually through an implant or attachment.
  • In New York, should a local tell you to walk a seemingly long distance to a destination, one can walk the 30 blocks without thinking of it as being too far or too difficult. In San Francisco, should a local tell you NOT to walk the three blocks to your destination, one should immediately jump in one’s car and drive there instead of attempting to walk the three vertical blocks. This is because when you wake up in the hospital after your heart attack you will be ridiculed for the rest of your life.
  • In California I met two wonderful and charming people who were nice enough to overlook my inherent Geekiness and talk to me without projectile vomiting on my ugly face. They kept up this charade of touchy-feely, good-natured comradeship almost all day. However, as HoBiscuit and I were leaving it was entirely unnecessary for one to turn to the other and stage-whisper, “Thank god they’re leaving! If I had to spend another minute with that ugly, stupid, stuck-up jackhole I think I would have died. As it is, I think I should take a Liquid Plumber bath to wash the touch of his filthy eyes off my body.”

After careful examination of these facts, I believe I have discovered what the greatest problem in my life is;

My problem is California.

It’s California’s fault that my life is so pathetic. It’s California’s fault that my computer froze up yesterday and caused the loss of my Greatest Post Ever™. California is the root of all evil in the world, California is slowing down the closing on my new apartment, California gave me this paper cut on my finger and California makes my anus bleed when I wipe too hard with industrial-grade toilet paper. California is my Kryptonite, my super-powered arch nemesis and my personal anti-christ all rolled into one.

But damn, it’s beautiful out there.

The Day After Tomorrow

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Traveling •   8

Look out California, here we come!

For the first time since we’ve been married, HoBiscuit and I are traveling together on what some people would call a ‘vacation’, but what we call a ‘Destination Of Convenience’, or DOC. DOC means that we’re going to California for a wedding and tacking on a getaway week for ourselves because we really need to take a breather from all the work we’ve been doing. Now don’t be sad, we’re not going away forever and I promise to tell you all about our trip when we get back. Come on now, there’s no need to cry. Turn that frown upside down…

Oh stop it! I’ll be back on June 7th, you big crybaby.

Anywaste, we’ll be going all over northern California, from San Francisco to the Oregon border to Yosemite to Monterey, so even though I’ll try to update this site with stories of our travels while we’re there, if I were you I wouldn’t be holding my breath. During our stay out west, we’ll also work in a day to meet and greet two of my favoritest Bloggers ever, despite the fact that the Governator has declared our meeting to be an act of terrorschism. And if our meeting doesn’t cause an interdimensional rift of cataclysmic proportions, then I guess we’re just not trying hard enough. Jules, JadedJu, Hobiscuit and GeekMan will meet in California this Saturday, and the world will quake beneath our feet.

May god have mercy on us all.

Weekend Update

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Rants, Traveling •   4

I feel violated.

This weekend HoBiscuit and I went down to Virginia as moral support, and living/breathing second opinions, for friends who are moving there in a few months due to a job offer. We drove all over Virginia looking at over a dozen apartments in two days trying to help them find the ‘perfect’ place to live in for a year until they decide whether they’ll stay down there or come back to NY.

I, for one, hope they come back sooner.

Anywaste, we were in the parking lot of some apartment complex when my wife, the Lovely HoBiscuit, starts screaming and pointing at me. She’s hopping from foot to foot as if she were doing the pee-pee dance and turning in circles while screaming “Ew! Ew! Ew!” over and over again. Now, I’ve grown used to the reaction HoBiscuit has when the mind altering, GeekMan-isn’t-really-Quasimodo, love-potion-like cocktail of drugs I give her wear off, but something told me this was different.

The fact that she wasn’t pointing at my face gave me my first clue.

Then I noticed the feeling of a little extra weight on my back. And the weight was moving. Now, since I have the quick reflexes of a striking viper and the mental dexterity of a flying walrus, I quickly deduced that I was being attacked by some sort of creature that could sting me to death, like a giant Geek-killing wasp or a flesh-eating woodpecker. So, taking into account my years of training as a Green Beret Bonnet, I did exactly what I had been trained to do under such circumstances.

I panicked.

I started turning in circles while trying to swat the thing on my back and screamed at HoBiscuit, “Get it off! Get it OFF! I’m allergic to stings. Help me or I’ll die! Get it off! Get it off!” All the while HoBiscuit is screaming at me, “Get it off! Get it OFF! Don’t come near me! I’m not touching it! It’s disgusting! Get it off! Get it off!”

As you can imagine, you’ll never see either of us on Survivor.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I realized that it was not some super-sized stinging insect on my back, but a large, slow-witted and harmless cicada. Sighing in relief that I would not be dying this day, I calmly asked HoBiscuit to flick the little thing off me so we could go look at the apartment with our friends.

The look of horror I received was not encouraging.

After calmly explaining to HoBiscuit that cicadas are harmless bugs that would never hurt her, she calmly told me that she didn’t believe my lying ass because it looked dangerous to her and she would rather watch it eat my empty skull than risk touching it. After trying and failing to reach it myself, and after calming her down from hysterical to moderately anxious, she agreed to help me remove the bug as long as she didn’t need to actually touch it to do so. Then, trusting fool that I am, I turned my back to my wife and calmly waited for her to remove the bug. This may help you understand why I wasn’t prepared for her to start dancing from foot to foot while hitting me with her purse while screaming, “Ick, ick, ick!” Now, all you nature people out there shouldn’t worry because the cicada flew away before HoBiscuit was able to calm down enough to properly aim her Handbag Of Doom.

On the other hand, I’ve got three broken ribs.
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Summer Camp II

• by GeekMan • In Childhood Memories •   5

“Heads up GeekMan, here comes Big Julie.”

Art, my best friend at camp, said this quite calmly as we sat on the bleachers by the baseball field pulling the legs off of daddy long leg spiders to pass the time between lunch and dinner. Usually such a pronouncement would have been met by my indifferent nonchalance, but earlier in the day I had been informed that Big Julie seemed to want to ‘talk’ to me and that caused me to raise my head in alarm and begin calculating the success probabilities of hiding vs. fleeing vs. suddenly developing psychic powers and destroying Big Julie in a ball of fire. Seeing how close she was to the bleachers, I quickly rejected the first two plans of action and desperately searched for a means of implementing the third.

Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.
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Summer Camp I

• by GeekMan • In Childhood Memories •   1

Heidi was my girl.

Well, she wasn’t really my girl, especially since she was 18 and I was only 11, but still, she thought I was cute and didn’t flee my presence like all the other girls in camp. Plus, she was the counselor for Girls Bunk 5 which was the camps’ group of 15 year old girls, all of whom had boobies, so when I visited her I might get lucky and see some cute girl in her bra. However, contrary to popular camp lore, I never once witnessed one of the infamous lingerie pillow fights all the boys in camp just knew the girls had every night. I could only conclude they were controlling their base nature until I left for fear of warping my young and impressionable mind.

Damn their good intentions.
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