Geek Life

Time To Fly

• by GeekMan • In Family •   1

I’m off to Arizona to visit the in-laws.

From what I’ve been told, my father-in-law has gotten very… crotchety. In fact, according to my mother-in-law, he’s become downright mean. Why, just yesterday she complained to HoBiscuit that my father-in-law had made the house so cold that her very bones had frozen! Apparently, she had to escape outside during the hottest part of the Arizonian summer day just to warm up. When HoBiscuit asked her mother what temperature her evil father had set the thermostat, she expected to hear some ungodly low number, like 60 degrees Fahrenheit, or something. Imagine her shock at hearing her mother’s angry response of, “He set it to 79! It’s so cold I have to wear a sweater and socks inside!”

Ah, old people. Bless them and their blotchy, cellophane-like skin.

Seeing Is Believing

• by GeekMan • In Childhood Memories, Geek Life •   2

I used to love taking a shower.

Waking up in the morning has always sucked for me, I’ve never been what you’d call a morning person. Some of my best days began when I woke up after 11am, and I can’t think of a single night of fun that ended before 2am. I was what you might call a Night Owl, able to stay up and party all night without getting tired. Mornings though, are my personal kryptonite.

Until my morning shower.

My daily shower was the one thing that made my sleep addled brain start firing neurons again. I would stumble into that glass-encased box of pure morning bliss and wash the sleep right out of me. It was really quite amazing, actually. Kind of like that old Coast soap commercials where the guy wakes up in a grumpy mood but the scent of the soap wakes him up and he’s ready for his day. Hey, some people need their caffeine, some people need the morning newspaper and I need my morning shower.

Or at least I did.

You see, last year I got laser eye surgery and although you wouldn’t think it, that one thoughtless act has ruined my mornings forever. It used to be that I couldn’t see anything clearly until after my shower, when I put on my glasses to get dressed. But now… now, it’s all different. Now I can see when I take a shower. Now I know, and seeing and knowing has completely destroyed my life. You see, one year ago, for the first time I could clearly see my pubic hair… and the white hairs hiding there that were laughing at me because I’m old. Old, and possibly stupid. Maybe even senile. But definitely old.

I can only pray for early cataracts.

One Week

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   7

I’ve been back one whole week… and no one cares.

Oh well, what did I expect? A party? Fireworks? A guest spot on Oprah? No, not really. But I guess I would have liked something. A delicious piece of pie, maybe. Or a happy meal prize, perhaps. I guess just being back a week isn’t enough to warrant anyone noticing, let alone caring. Maybe I should be quicker at finding the funny again? Writing more… I don’t know, humorous things? Maybe I should…

Nah, isn’t telling embarrassing stories about my childhood over with already?

Oh. Oh great. I see that begging puppydog look on your face. You want me to humiliate myself for your amusement again, don’t you? You want to hear all about that time I tried to be “punk” to impress a girl only to discover she had gone country to impress a boy. Or about the time my car actually caught on fire as I was driving a girl home. Or better yet, you want to hear about the time my college girlfriend stole my clothes and all the towels in my dorm room while I was taking a shower and late for a test.

Or how about what I did to get her back.

Well, fine. If that’s what it’ll take to make you happy, then so be it. You’ll never be able to say I didn’t give my all to my readership, will you? Next week I start poking fun at myself again and you’d better be here or I’ll be doubly embarrassed. Once because I posted it, and once because no one reads it.

Dear lord, I am so pathetic.

More Catching Up

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   0

So, I’ve been thinking.

And that’s about as far as it goes, actually. Thinking about things and not doing them. Which is why I’ve decided to actually DO some of the things I’ve been thinking about doing for so long that I almost convinced myself that I’ve already done them. What things, you ask? Well, for one, I’ve signed up to take a Flash course and learn how to design things in Flash and thus 1up my interactive design credz. That starts next week and I hope it’s fun because otherwise I’ll be bored out of my skull and do nothing but complain here for all of you to read.

Wait, all I EVER do is complain here…

Oh well, can’t please everyone, can we? OK, what else will I be doing? Well, Hobiscuit got me a Wacom tablet for Fathers Day which means I can finally start drawing with the computer. I’ve been playing around with it and it’s wicked cool (why I just used “wicked cool” to describe something, I’ll never know). Just the fact that it has pressure and tilt sensitivity and custom brushes that seem closer to “real” brushes is a massive step up from using the mouse. I’m hoping to use it in conjunction with my burgeoning Flash skilz to create really inspiring designs and thus once again increase my mad design credz.

And lastly, I’m writing again.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know nobody really cares anymore, but the truth of the matter is that I really, really missed writing here, even when I wasn’t funny. Which as you’re probably snarkily thinking to yourself was almost all the time. So now that I’m back and writing again, I figured I’d start off by just writing, funny or not, and work my way back into the funny. Or at least find my way back to the things that I thought were funny but that made everyone else groan and roll their eyes in pain as their funny bone was pulverized by my witless and antihumorous prose. And so, in an attempt to once again be funny, I present to you my very first limerick!

There once was a man from Nantucket
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Miss Me?

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   0

So… I’m back.

And it has been one heck of a crazy time for me. I became a dad, I lost a computer to the gremlins of hard drive decay, traveled all over the world for work, worked myself into a sleep-deprived comatose and nearly lost my thumb trying to be nice.

Funny story.

I was feeling like a loving, caring husband one morning about three months ago and decided I would make pancakes for HoBiscuit. I snuck out of bed, gathered up all the ingredients in the kitchen stealthy-like, and began getting the pancake batter ready for mixing. Then, I got my KitchenAid immersion blender from the cabinet, turned it on and tried to mix the batter.

I say “tried” because the mixer’s blade refused to spin.

This concerned me for three reasons. 1) The immersion blender was nearly brand new, used only once or twice before. 2) I could hear the motor running, but the blades were just sitting there and, 3) I really, REALLY wanted to wake HoBiscuit up and feed her my special chocolate chip pancakes made with love.

Plus, I was starving.

This is where I prove that some higher power out there really hates me and finds ruining my life amusing. You see, I wanted to check to see if there was anything wrong with the immersion blender so I made sure to not touch the power switch and turned it upside down so I could look at the blades. I saw no obstruction. Wanting to make sure there wasn’t something stuck in it, I extending my left thumb towards the blades…

And the stupid thing turned itself on.

In my defense, I hadn’t touched the power button and I hadn’t even touched the blades when it magically turned itself on. I guess that’s the only reason I still have a thumb at all. As it was, the centrifugal force of the blades suddenly turning on forced them into contact with my thumb which in turn did its part by doing a great impersonation of an exploding water balloon filled with blood. My high-pitched, girly screams of pain and terror woke HoBiscuit up and she promptly went to the bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, grabbed The Mighty Baby and helped me dial a cab to get to the hospital. And not once did she call me a moron.

At least not out loud, though her eyes were having a field day.

The hospital emergency room was a fun time, too. Filled with people with massive head injuries, drug overdoses, gunshot wounds, broken bones and whatnot. I felt like I was in a special kind of scary hell, especially since I had to wait over 8 hours before I even got to see a doctor. And it took only another 2 hours before they could actually stitch me up. All in all, I spent over 10 hours in a crappy hospital to get four (just four, dammit) stitches in my thumb and now I have a nice little “y” shaped scar to help remind me to never, EVER touch anything as dangerous as a handheld blender again unless it has been completely unplugged no matter how safe I think it might otherwise be. The good news is a lot of pretty girls want to hold my hand and look at my scar.

The bad news is I haven’t made chocolate chip pancakes since.

Blargh

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Quickie •   3

So, I’m sick. Again.

I really hate being sick. I mean really hate it. Not only do I hate being sick, but I hate everything about being sick. I hate all the tissues that rub my nose raw, the mucus that lodges in my chest, the various aches and pains whenever I move and all the cold and clammy sweat that cocoons me in a blanket of yucky slime. Most of all, I hate the fact that as a self employed individual I don’t get any paid sick days off, like a certain wife I could mention who enjoys rubbing those kinds of things in her husbands face when he’s deathly ill.

And really, what’s the point of being sick if you can’t get paid for it?

Sounds Of Silence

• by GeekMan • In Family, Rants •   1

There is so much I wish I could talk about.

If I could speak, I might be able to tell you how spending the last month with my in-laws has been… interesting, to say the least. Were I able to utter the words, I might explain to you the massive differences between how our families show each other love; over-feeding people vs. humorously insulting people, for example. And I might also mention that what is normal for one household to do, even in their own home, might be interpreted as an insult to the others. Were I not under a gag order, I could mention in-law snore-offs during football games, some people’s inability to try new foods, their frightened dismissal of anything done differently from what they have done in the past and their complete lack of technical know-how that makes it impossible for them to properly use any household item from 1980 forward including, but not limited to; cooking using a Wolf stove, turning lights on and off using dimmer switches or operating a touchscreen TV remote. My current speech impediment keeps me from imparting to you the absolute insanity of someone I know of who might insist on using a $15 screwdriver to remove weeds from a patch of weed infested dirt that the homeowner has said many times over would be ripped up and replaced next summer with actual grass. I can’t possibly tell you about how some truly crazy people I know feel the need to collect every circular in the neighborhood on their daily morning walks only to loudly proclaim over breakfast how expensive everything is compared to where they live so maybe they should give you money because obviously you’re too poor to afford to eat. And, last but certainly not least, let us not forget how my zippered lips keep me from ever telling another living soul about all the ‘helpful’ advice on, and ‘constructive’ criticism of, the way HoBiscuit and I take care of the Mighty Baby.

Wow, the stories I could tell if only I could talk to you.

But I can’t.

Oh well, at least I can tell you that by next week I should really be back to a daily-ish posting schedule. And this time I actually mean it.

Oh, don’t try to hide that smile. I know that makes you happy.

Infantastic

• by GeekMan • In Family, Geek Life •   0

I thought I could handle it.

Just me and MightyBaby in the house while HoBiscuit and the In-Laws went out for a much needed day out. For some stupid reason, I thought MightyBaby would behave as she almost always does, sleeping most of the day away, the peaceful tranquility only occasionally punctuated by bouts of crying to get food or to be changed.

Unfortunately, my day has gone something like this;

Zero Hour: “Oh, she’s such an angel. She’s sleeping, she’s got on a clean diaper and she just ate, so there’s nothing to worry about. You guys go out and enjoy yourselves, I can take care of her. I mean, you’ll only be gone for about 4 hours, how bad could it be?”

5 Minutes Later: “Why are you crying? You’re supposed to stay asleep so daddy can play Halo3. Do you have gas? Is that it? Gas? Or could it be…?”

30 Seconds Later: “Holy crap! That’s NOT gas!”

5 Minutes Later: “OK, feel better now? Another clean diaper for you and now you can go back to sleepy-land, right?”

30 Minutes Later: “Why won’t you go to sleep? You’re supposed to be sleepy. You had a big meal, a clean diaper and no gas. Sleep for daddy, please?”

15 Minutes Later: “Daddy never realized how difficult it is to type emails with one hand. Perhaps daddy should look into buying a voice recognition program?”

15 Minutes Later: “Ixnay on the ogrampray. Daddy bets a screaming baby in the background would mess up the voice recognition software. Oh well, daddy will just have to train you to take dictation when you’re a bit older as punishment for this inconvenience, won’t he?”

30 Seconds Later: “Daddy was kidding! Come on! Just because you didn’t like the joke doesn’t mean you needed to voice your opinion quite so odorifically! Now daddy has to change you. Again. And stop looking so proud of yourself, it’s not lady-like.”

30 Seconds Later: “Daddy takes it back. He’d be proud of this, too.”

10 Minutes Later: “OK, now daddy bets you’re hungry. Well, you’re in luck! Daddy just happens to have 3 ounces of special BiscuitMilk for you right here. And daddy knows that after a big meal you like to be burped and then you’ll fall into a deep, peaceful slumber. And then daddy can play Halo3! So, bottoms up!”

30 Seconds Later: “Hmmm, that was fast. Now daddy wonders if he was supposed to let you eat the whole thing so quickly…?”

30 Seconds Later: “Exorcist Baby! Exorcist Baby! Exorcist Baby!”

30 Minutes Later: “Right. Well, now you’re all clean and changed. You’ve eaten, and retained, some small amount of food. And you’ve been sufficiently burped. It’s about time for you to sleep, so how about we turn off all the lights and rock in the chair for a bit and see if that helps put you in the mood?”

15 Minutes Later: “Well, rocking sucks. How about we try walking?”

15 Minutes Later: “Walking sucks even more. You’re still crying and now daddy’s tired. How about we try sitting quietly on the couch?”

10 Minutes Later: “Much better. Couch is good. We love Mr. Couch, don’t we Mighty Baby? No more crying, daddy can rest and even better, once you fall asleep daddy can just put you down on the couch and play Halo3 with you right next to him so he can keep an eye on you. It’s genius!”

5 Minutes Later: “What’s with the big, sad eyes? Why are you staring at daddy like a lost puppy?”

5 Minutes Later: “You’re beginning to creep daddy out with that big-eyed stare. What are you looking at? Daddy’s not that handsome.”

5 Minutes Later [whispered]: “Do you see dead people?”

10 Minutes Later: “What? What did you see in daddy’s face that made you smile like that? Does daddy have a booger?”

5 Minutes Later: “You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

30 Minutes Later: “OK, you’re drifting off now, you’re getting sleepy, I can see it. So, how about we put you down next to daddy on the couch, on this nice, soft blankie, and daddy plays some Halo3? Is that OK?”

30 Seconds Later: “OK, before daddy can play, he needs to use the bathroom. Please stay asleep so daddy can pee, OK?”

5 Minutes Later: “Whew! Daddy feels much better now. OK, time to play some Halo3!”

30 Seconds Later: “Why are you crying? All I did was turn on the XBox… Hey! Did your mother teach you to hate video games already?”

10 Minutes Later: “Well, you’re starting to fall asleep again and your mother will be home soon, so Iguess I’ll just put you down in your crib.”

5 Minutes Later: “Sigh. NOW you fall asleep? 5 whole minutes before your mother is supposed to come home?”

5 Minutes Later: “Hi Honey! How was your day? Did you all have fun? Us? We were fine. We had a great time together and MightyBaby was an angel, of course!”

And I still haven’t even opened up my Halo3 box yet. Dammit.

Meatasaurus

• by GeekMan • In Family, Geek Life •   3

I need meat.

I know it’s healthier for me to eat vegetables and green things and stuff, but the honest to goodness truth is that I need to eat meat to survive. Not, “I like to eat meat.” Nor, “I’d love steak with my salad.” Not even, “I really like having at least one meal a day be of the meat variety.” No, these statements do not do justice to the fact that my body MUST have meat in order for me to be happy.

And right now I am not happy.

This is because I am not eating my quota of meat every day. You see, MotherBiscuit and FatherBiscuit are staying with us right now to help us out with our new baby girl. I really, truly do appreciate all the help and advice they’re giving us. Without their help HoBiscuit and I would probably have been overwhelmed with everything we needed to do once The Mighty Baby arrived, but thanks to their help and support we’re actually rested and of sound mind and body.

But the food situation…

Let me fill you in on a little background. When HoBiscuit and I were dating and I went with her to visit her parents they would feed us such foods as would make anyone feel like a king. 12 course dinners, 7 course lunches and breakfasts’ of such bounty as to cause the kitchen table to buckle and collapse from the weight. They took care to find out what I could and couldn’t eat and made dishes to cater to my needs. Each meal had at least two different meats for me to choose from. They welcomed me with open refrigerators and showered me with their culinary confections.

But that’s all changed now.

Now, all I get is some watery soup, iceberg lettuce, plain white rice, some shredded potatoes and, if I’m lucky, scallion buns. Did you notice what was missing from the above menu? Oooo, nice try. You’re right that dessert wasn’t mentioned, but that’s not the most glaring omission of my most recent dinner. Do you need a hint?

A whole freaking course, is what!

No meat! None! MotherBiscuit didn’t even pass the rice over some meat scraps left over from last week to infuse the hint of meat odor onto it. At the end of the meal MotherBiscuit asked me if I liked it, and I said yes thinking there was more coming! I didn’t realize that the meal was over. If I had, I might have asked for seconds of the potatoes and chased that down with about 25 scallion buns!

OMG, I was soooo hungry!

Now, I realize that just by being here MotherBiscuit and FatherBiscuit are doing us a massive bit of help. They truly are. And lest you think I’m complaining about their good intentions let me state here and now that I appreciate everything they’re doing to help. I just wish that over the course of their stay that MotherBiscuit will find it in her heart to once again begin cooking real meals so that when I leave the table I am actually full. I mean, I’d cook more myself but every time I get near the stove MotherBiscuit appears at my shoulder like some wraith and begins asking questions. And there’s really no good way a good son-in-law can answer questions like, “Is my cooking not good enough for you?”

Man, I gotta get me a steak before I kill something.

The Monster

• by GeekMan • In Family •   0

Dear Morpheus, son of Hypnos, how I do miss you.

So, I’ve got myself one of those, what do you call them… ? Ah, yes. Children. And now I can’t seem to find enough time to do anything, especially sleep. And in case you didn’t know, I really, really like to sleep. At least I think I do. It’s so hard to remember since the last time I slept was months ago and I believe it was for a whole three seconds.

Come to think on it, that might have just been a long blink.

Anywaste, as I have discovered, these children things are like adult anti-sleep pills in tiny demon form. They drown your ability to sleep as if they were some giant vat of Red Bull and, even if all they’re doing is sleeping themselves, you find yourself sitting at the edge of their crib watching them sleep to make sure they’re sleeping well.

It’s as if this mini-beast has swallowed my free will.

However, it should be noted that just as some hostages form symbiotic bonds with their captors, I find myself willingly submitting to my new master’s will. When she cries for food, I find HoBiscuit and offer her to my tiny goddess. Should the Mighty Baby desire a nap, I will gladly kill the garbage truck driver who dares to meander down our street with his loud truck that caused her to furrow her brow. And should she have gas, I am first to gently pat her back and help that nasty air get out. But, what about the poop, you ask? Well, I have to draw the line somewhere and my line is right above the Mighty Babies buttocks. Because for “Teh p00p” we have a wall hook, a power wash hose and a hair dryer.

OMG, that stuff is nasty!