Geek Life

Happy, Happy. Frag, Frag.

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

Note to self: Remember to shower

Two weeks ago I went to my local video game store and reserved a copy of what will most surely become the abso-frickin-lutely best video game of the year. It’s got guns, huge landscapes, blood, gore and even internet enabled, voice activated insults.

That’s right fellow Geeks, I’m getting Unreal Championship.

Miss Ex-Boxx is all hot & bothered and literally moaning in anticipation of having this game filling her slot. My handwritten note of challenge has been accepted by Bread and we’ve cleared our calendars for the next two to four months. So we won’t be bothered by mundane things such as working, eating, sleeping or paying attention to HoBiscuit while we slaughter each other in virtual mayhem.

Unless HoBiscuit’s wearing that cute little outfit I like so much. Rowr!

Of course, nothing will stop me from updating this site, so you don’t need to write me hundreds of thousands of “Where are you? Please update or I’ll die!” emails. I’ve got my priorities straight; I know what I have to do to keep you happy. And no matter what, I plan on doing my best to make you happy. So, without further ado, here’s some guy eating pussy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to frag some friends. Boo-Yah!

No Ordinary Wednesday

• by GeekMan • In Bread, Breaking News, Experiments, Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Rants •   11

I’m not dead, yet.

It has come to my attention, through various IM chats, email with my virtual friends, and the tumbling tumbleweeds rolling through my server logs, that I’m not famous. No, no, don’t look so shocked. I know it might come as a surprise to some of you, but trust me when I tell you that it’s true nonetheless.

I know, I know. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Anywaste, after talking it over with some people this morning, and thinking about it for a few hours this afternoon, I have finally come to understand what it would take for me to become a bigwig blog-type person. So, without further ado, here’s a list of what I need to do;

  • Write shorter entries
  • Post pictures of naked Boobies
  • Write more angry diatribes about unimportant minutia
  • Upload pictures of Breasts
  • Open up and tell people more about me
  • Show some Cleavage
  • Let Bread speak more often
  • Show really big Knockers in tight-fitting, wet t-shirts
  • Accept that I will not be funny all the time
  • Take pictures of small, fist-sized Boobs with erect, pencil-eraser-sized nipples and post them
  • Turn gay, or at least bi, and write about my sordid sex life
  • Boobies, Boobies, Boobies, Boobies!

Now, while I don’t have Boobies to take pictures of, or a sordid sex life to talk about, I think I might manage the other things on the list. Like making shorter entries, letting myself get angry and accepting the fact that I won’t always be funny. Like the time I peed in my friend’s pool and told everyone that the areas of warm water were due to global warming.

Sure, it’s funny now.

So, beginning tomorrow you will see a slowly evolving GeekMan website here. I’ll write shorter entries, try to reveal a little more about myself, and even do some ranting, bitching and moaning via Bread. Not everything I write will be explicitly for laughs anymore, but it will all be at least tongue-in-cheek. Things I won’t do are curse, discuss work (due to NDAs), or turn gay. Not even bi. HoBiscuit would not be amused. However, I will see what I can do about that Boobie thing.

Because, you know, they’re Boobies.

Dealing With The Devil

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Rants •   3

I really hate Micro$oft.

I was hoping to avoid using Micro$oft products as much as possible with my new computer, but today I had to crumble and purchase Office XP in order to secure some work coming up in December. It’s not that I have anything against Micro$oft per say, it’s just that I have this allergic reaction to the covert collection and dissemination of my personal and private information without my permission by large, faceless, big-brother type corporations via invasive ‘product registration’.

Makes me break out in hives, it does.

Anywaste, after doing a quick search online, I found that the cheapest price for Office XP Standard was around $390. I paid $350, thanks to a discount, and should receive my copy of this thinly disguised attack on my private information and personal identity tomorrow. To me, the price isn’t too unreasonable especially since I make a living using this stuff, but ever since the economy started spiraling down the toilet I’ve noticed that a lot of people are trying to save money however they can.

So I’m going to offer the world some free advice.

When you next order a computer do not have it pre-loaded with Micro$oft Office. Instead, try OpenOffice.org’s office suite, which is free, and see if you can live with it instead. As someone who is a power user of Micro$oft Office, I can honestly say that I didn’t miss a thing when I used OOO’s version of Word, Outlook and Excel and I doubt anyone would really notice the difference after only a single week of use. If it weren’t for the fact that my clients depend on PowerPoint slideshows for their meetings, I probably wouldn’t have ever even thought about buying Office again, so I heartily recommend the OOO product.

But wait, there’s more.

You see, hypothetically speaking, if someone were to discover that they absolutely, positively, needed to have Office in order to live, then I would still say to them, do not get Office pre-installed. Instead, still hypothetically speaking of course, go to your local software shop and purchase the Student version of Office. Now, I would never do such a thing myself because that would be ‘wrong’ and ‘deceitful’, but I have heard whispers of other, less virtuous, Geeks who have done this very thing. These scandalous characters have let it be known throughout all of Geekdom that the Student version of Office is the same full featured set of applications one gets when purchasing Office Standard, but at a massively discounted price of only $130.

Makes one wonder why Standard costs so much, no?

At Least I Tried

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Rants, Wedding •   3

“Hello.”
“Hi. My name is GeekMan and I’m calling to find out some information about hosting a wedding at your facilities.”
“Certainly, Miss GeekMan. And congratulations. What would you like to know?”
“Uh, my name is GeekMan. I’m not a miss, I’m a mister.”
“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, sir. For a moment there you sounded like a… Ah, what I meant to say is that I’ve been dealing with women all morning and I just went on autopilot there for a moment. Ha. Ha.”
[Dr. Evil voice] “Riiiiiight.”
“Ahem, so, how can I help you, sir?”
“I’d like to know how many people you can accommodate, the estimated price per person and whether you’re available on [date] next year.”
“…”
“Hello?”
“Yes, I’m still here. I was just wondering, are you sure you’re not a girl?”
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that the guys usually avoid this tedious task of calling around to get the price lists of reception sites.”
“So?”
“And, well… You really sound like a woman.”
“I do not! I’ll have you know I have a very manly voice. It’s just this cheap phone…”
“So you don’t really sound as nasal and whiny in person?”
“Whiny?!? Nasal?!? I do not whine!”
“See? Right there. That was a definite whine.”
“Was not!”
“Yes, it was. Now tell the truth, you’re a lesbian couple, aren’t you?”
“No! I’m a man and I’m marrying my fiance! Now stop with the insults and tell me your prices so I can turn you down and hang up already.”
“You’re really not a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Swear?”
“Yeah, I swear. I’m not a girl. I’m a guy, with a really big penis, ok?”
“…”
“Oh for crying out loud. Now what?”
“Have you ever seen ‘My Cousin Vinny’?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You sounded just like the woman from that movie. You know, ‘My biological clock is ticking like this…’?”
“Marisa Tomei?”
“Yeah! Her! You sounded just like her. All nasal and stuff.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“She’s awesome. I loved that movie. Come on, say that line. Say it.”
“I will do no such thing, you wacko!”
“Oooo! I love the Sopranos! Tell me you’re gonna whack somebody. Do it!”
“Listen, I just called to get the price list. If that’s inconvenient right now, I could always call again after you’ve seen a shrink or something.”
“Now you’re Woody Allen! You’re great!”
“No! I’m not doing impersonations! I just want the frickin price list, you psychopathic woman!”
“You want the price list?”
“Yes!”
“No price list until you do De Niro.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You want the list, I want De Niro.”
“That… That’s blackmail!”
“Whatever. Come on, say something like De Niro does in Analyze This.”
“This is crazy…”
“Come on! Ooo! I know! Do that line from Taxi Driver!”
[hangs up phone]
“Hello? Hello?”
“Did he hang up?”
“Yep.”
“Not bad. Three minutes and 28 seconds, the longest time a guy’s put up with your crap. He must have really needed this price list.”
“Ha! I bet he gets into deep crapola with his fiance for not getting our price list.”
“Poor schmuck.”
“Yeah, I almost feel sorry for him.”
[both together] “ALMOST!”
“Hahahahahahahahaha!”

Your Honor, I Can Explain

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Poetry, Rants •   2

The life of a Geek is never normal.

Let me give you an example. Saturday night a whole bunch of friends came over to visit HoBiscuit and I in our new apartment for the very first time. We had food and drink and a massive X-Box Halo bloodfest. By the end of the night there was a whole lot of garbage that needed to be disposed of, including the battered and bloody egos of some of my friends when Bread showed up unannounced and trashed us all using only the wimpy Needler. It wasn’t until everyone had left that I remembered garbage collection day was not until Tuesday night! That meant I would have to hold on to the three large & smelly bags of trash for three whole days before I could throw them away.

This was absolutely unacceptable to the dainty and cleanly HoBiscuit.

In a fit of devilishly clever brilliance my sweet woman not only devised a method of throwing out the trash on our non-trash day, but also figured out how to do it without getting her own hands dirty in the process.

“Honey?”
“Yes, my sweet HoBiscuit?”
“Are you going to bed now?”
“Well, seeing as how I’m in my pajamas in our completely dark bedroom and lying next to you in our soft & warm bed, I would think the answer is obvious.”
“Aren’t you afraid that the garbage will attract bugs?”
“There’s not much I can do about it right now, sweetie. It’s not our garbage night.”
“…”
“…”
“Honey?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you the Man?”
“…”
“Well?”
“I’m wondering if my answer will improve my chances of getting lucky tonight.”
“That all depends on your answer.”
“I see.”
“So, are you the Man?”
“With the understanding that I know I’m digging a hole for myself, even if I don’t know exactly how yet, I have to say ‘yes’. I am the Man. Why?”
“Because real men take out the garbage.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen of the court, explains why I was wandering the streets at four AM on a Sunday morning in the rain, wearing nothing but my pajamas, holding three giant-sized, black trash bags and cursing my ‘Ho’. Now, if it will please the court, I would like to take a moment to pound these shards of broken glass into my own gonads using a rubber mallet while chanting “I Am Not The Man” to the tune of the Lumberjack Song.

I am not the Man
And that’s OK
I treat her right
Till I go insane…

What Could Have Been

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   1

I thought it would be funny.

I spent a few hours doing the necessary research, finding all the correct names, places and faces for the gag. Got everything I needed together into a folder on my computer and started writing. As usual, I was giggling as I wrote, ignoring the ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ sounds coming from the nice men in white coats as they observed me through the one way mirror on the wall.

I couldn’t actually see them, but I knew they were there just the same.

A little after noon today, as I was getting ready to entertain the white-coats by screaming at my left eyelid to stop blinking out of sync with my right, I happened to click over to CNN and read the news.

The suspected snipers are in custody. Damn.

Well, not damn, because it’s actually a good thing that they caught them. But damn for me because by catching these idiots they have inadvertently destroyed today’s post. You see, I was going to write a whole ‘Dear Police Chief Charles Moose’ letter explaining who the snipers were and why they were doing it. I had formed a conspiracy theory involving George T. Shaheen and Julie Wainwright, the CEOs of Webvan and Pets.com respectively, and one very angry sock puppet. They were on a mission of righteous redemption, needing to prove once and for all that their failed dot coms would work if people were given the right incentive to stay home and have their food and pet supplies delivered to them.

No, no. Think about it.

Who had white vans to spare? Who would want people to stay home and have their food delivered? Who’s got nothing but time? Who’s angry at the world in general?

Sock puppets and CEOs, that’s who.

I still think it would have been funny, but that’s all over now. They caught the real people, so my pathetic attempt at humor will have to be put into the attic and mothballed for now. One day though, when it’s aged to perfection like a fine wine, my Sock Puppet Sniper story will resurface to take the humor Blogs, and thus the world, by storm.

Look out George and Julie, I’m watching you. Like a hawk.

Please Don’t Breed

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   4

It’s a very weird world I live in.

This morning, as I sat on the train going to work, a young woman got on the train and sat down beside me. Now, when I say ‘got on the train’, what I really mean is she ran onto the train as if undead, machete wielding, psychotic killer dwarfs in clown suits were chasing her.

Dwarfs? Dwarves? Dwarf’s?

Anywaste, she sat down next to me and began rummaging through her shoulder bag as if her very life depended on it. At this point I became a little alarmed. I mean, in these crazy times who’s to say that the seemingly well adjusted, but frantic, woman beside you on the train isn’t some crazed lunatic who’s declared a personal jihad against all the dead-sexy Geeks in New York?

Hey, it could happen.

Lucky for her, she quickly found what she was looking for and tore it out from her bag before I had to use my mad kung-fu skilz and get all Jackie Chan on her face. Yeah, that’s right, boy-ee. What I was doing is called ‘Gathering The Battle Chi’. Not ‘Screaming Like A Baby-Girl And Cowering Under The Seat’.

Beelie’dat, yo.

So, what do you think was so important to her that it was worth getting into such a heightened state of panic over? Was she looking for a cell phone to report a crime? Had the bottle of corrosive acid she was carrying broken, spilling its contents all over some highly valuable manuscripts? Was she part of some crazy cult and had to give all of her wonderful electronic toys to the first person she sat next to on the train, starting with that fabulous Sony Clie? No! She just really, really, REALLY needed her journal.

Well, knock me over with a feather.

So, she whips out this journal and opens it to an empty page and starts writing, whispering to herself the entire time. As you can guess by now, my curiosity was piqued and I really wanted to know what was so compelling to her at seven in the frickin morning that she just hadto write it down. Since she was sitting next to me and I just happened to be reading a copy of PC Magazine, I slyly shifted myself around and took a peek at what she was writing. I didn’t read the whole thing, it was already almost a page long, but here’s what I remember.

“I can’t believe I just bought pot from a homeless man! Am I a pothead? I don’t know, but I already smoked two and I haven’t gone to work yet. They tasted funny. Now I don’t feel relaxed at all. It seems like everyone is looking at me funny. Watching me. Did I dress funny today, or something? It’s creepy. Everyone…”

Remember people, just say no to drugs. Especially when they’re from the homeless.

Stupid, stupid girl.

I Can’t Stop Smiling

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life, Rants •   8

Sweet joy.

My new computer, christened ‘GunBuster’ this morning, is a fully functional thing of beauty. She’s got all 512 MB of RAM that I ordered, too. I can’t begin to explain to you how thrilling it is to turn on my computer and not need to bring a book to read while it boots up. I’m serious. I used to read a chapter each time my old computer crashed and if I needed to reconfigure something I made sure to have War and Peace handy.

Unabridged.

The only thing that gives me the willies is that due to work requirements, I had to get WinXP installed. WinXP looks ok, I guess, and everything works pretty well so far, but I hate the fact that this little balloon keeps popping up telling me I’ve only got 25 days left to ‘Activate’ my copy of WinXP. Apparently, I can do this by contacting Micro$oft and giving them full access to my computer and all of its files.

Wait, another balloon just popped up…

This one says that since I’m such a Geek, in addition to the regular electronic, internet based product activation, I also need to send a self addressed stamped envelope to Micro$soft with the following materials; my name, address, phone number, age, stool sample, DNA sample, penis size, drivers license, social security number, sexual preference, mothers maiden name, all of my credit card numbers, deed to my home or signed apartment lease, my first born child/favorite pet/sexual partner, and a signed contract stating that I have never and will never install Linux on any computer I ever purchase under penalty of death.

I must also purchase a solid gold Bill Gates idol and spend 3 hours a day licking his golden anus.

Micro$soft is quick to assure me that all of this is necessary for the stability and well being of my computer. They are only trying to protect me and others like me from unscrupulous hackers who are out to pirate Micro$oft software, and thus my personal files, in an all out effort to take over the world. Micro$oft is confident that only criminals or little mice with genius IQ’s would ever try to pirate software for such nefarious reasons, and so they know I’ll be a good consumer and do whatever they tell me to do. No matter how outlandish, invasive or downright stupid it may seem at the time.

Well, that sounds perfectly legal to me.

GunBuster!Anywaste, tonight I’m going to sit in front of GunBuster and simply bask in the glow of its (haven’t decided if it’s a girl or a boy, yet.) extra-bright, blinking, blue LED power indicators. Then I think I’ll go to bed and dream of having enough money to buy the PhotoShop and Macromedia upgrades that I so desperately want. And, just so you’ll understand how much of a loser I am, I’ve actually taken a picture of GunBuster so all of you can become properly jealous of my awesome, L337 ©0mpµ73®.

I’m such a pathetic Geek, aren’t I?

Anybody Have A Stain Remover Handy?

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life •   4

My new computer is here.

I’m so excited that I think I may need some Oxy-Clean to remove a new stain from the front of my pants. This computer looks so cool it’s like an ice sculpture. In fact, it almost looks too cool for me. But of course, we all know that’s impossible, since I’m the coolest thing since beef jerky.

Yeah, I’m all that and a side of sweet plantains.

The best part so far is that even though I didn’t order the cut-out window, firewire sockets or matching silver faceplates for the CD and DVD drives, they gave it to me. For free. The only thing is, now that it looks so good, I might need to go out and actually pay for an internal, sound activated neon light.

You know, because I’ve got the cool, cut-out window and all…

But there may be a problem with the computer. The packing slip says that there’s only 256 MBs of PC3200 RAM, but I ordered 512. Once I get this baby hooked up and everything I’ll check and make sure, but if it’s only got 256 I’ll need to call them and get them to send me the other 256. But I’m afraid that if I do call them, they’ll realize that they sent me a computer with a whole bunch of extra stuff I was supposed to pay for, and didn’t. Then they’ll send the Computer Geek Police to my house to take away my beautiful new toy.

And then I’d go to jail for murder.

HoBiscuit is resigned to the fact that she has lost me for the next few days as I play with my new toy. Setting it up and installing software won’t take so long, but I might need to spend a while just regaling in the fact that I don’t need to make myself a cup of hot chocolate between starting PhotoShop and being able to actually use it. Oh yeah, and the cable modem should be arriving on Thursday.

Oh god. I think I just stained my pants again…

An Open Letter To My New Neighbors

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   2

Dear Fellow Neighbors,

According to an official email from the sanitation department, I was supposed to place my old air-conditioners outside of my apartment the night before my recyclable collection day so that the CFC’s could be safely removed and the ac’s properly disposed of. The normal recycle day for this block is Wednesday, so naturally, I assumed that meant I should place my ac’s on the curb Tuesday night with the rest of the recyclables. Being a responsible citizen, I did as I was bid, and fully expected that everything would be taken care of without any further problems.

But, as we all know, that was wishful thinking.

After placing my ac’s outside my building on Tuesday evening I went to sleep. On Wednesday morning, at 4:38am to be exact, there was somebody outside the building, banging on the ac’s with what sounded like a sledgehammer. At 5:46am, over one hour later, the banging finally ended when one of you helpfully screamed, among other things, “Shut the hell up, you jackhole!” After the banging ended, all I could think to myself was, “Damn, they sure did take their sweet time to get out the CFC’s!” When I left the house later on that morning and noticed that the ac’s were still on the curb I just assumed that they would be picked up with my recyclables later that evening.

Ever the optimist, am I not?

So, now it’s Thursday morning and those two wretched monstrosities are still here. Like ugly blights upon my very existence, they refuse to be exorcised from my life. Calling the sanitation department this morning, I was told by the very bored and mentally sloth-like creature on the other end of the line that there had been a miscommunication. He patiently explained to me, in small, single-syllable words so I would be sure to understand him, that I was supposed to have put my ac’s out on Monday evening for a Tuesday morning CFC collection and Tuesday evening garbage collection. Apparently, my email confirmation had been incorrect in telling me to place them on the curb with my garbage on Tuesday evening, and I should have known this somehow and called the department to get the correct information.

Say what?!?

I was also told that the banging that had so rudely awakened myself and the rest of my new neighborhood was most likely a roving bum looking to remove the Freon from the ac units to resell at garages for cash. I would now have to take the ac’s back into my apartment and put them back out next Monday to try the whole thing again. If I left them outside, then I would be ticketed and fined.

Son of a…

So, in the hopes of not becoming public enemy numero uno in my new neighborhood, I am hereby offering an apology to everyone within earshot of my apartment. I’m sorry about all the noise yesterday morning and I apologize profusely for any inconvenience those two unsightly curb-warts cause you in your daily stroll past my building. Rest assured that as soon as my friend gets here to help me, we will remove them from the curb until next Monday evening when, like magic, they will reappear for 24 hours before disappearing once more into the ether, never to be seen again.

In conclusion, I’m really sorry and please don’t hate me because it’s not my fault.

So, now that I’ve explained myself and the whole situation, could whoever it is who keeps pouring Freon all over my doorway and nailing the This Is A Neighborhood Not A Landfill, STOOPID sign on my door, please stop? It’s not funny.

Really, it’s not.