I love Cocoa Pebbles.

I’m not kidding. If Cocoa Pebbles was a woman I’d have pictures of her all over my bedroom and a ‘special’ magazine in the bathroom comprised of sexy shots of her in lingerie, thongs and bikinis. Mmmm… bikinis… Ahem, as I was saying, I just can’t get enough of my Cocoa Pebbles. I’d say I’m addicted except that the word ‘addict’ doesn’t do this level of compulsive need justice.

Cocoa Pebbles, oh how I love thee.

To help you understand my feelings for this cereal, let me tell you what I did for breakfast this morning. Knowing that I was going to eat a delicious bowl of heaven in the form of crunchy, flakey, chocolaty goodness, I went to the cabinet in search of a bowl. Not just any bowl would do, you understand. What I searched for was a Mighty Bowl, a bowl large enough to contain roughly half of an entire box of Cocoa Pebbles cereal and the quarter gallon of milk necessary to make my breakfast complete. Oh, and I also needed a small glass for my orange juice, of course.

Hey, everyone needs vitamins. Even Cocoa Pebbles freaks like me.

So, I searched and searched until I came to the oversized mixing bowls in the bottom of the hardest to reach kitchen cabinet because we never have need of bowls that large unless we’re serving salad to the entire population of Brazil. I stared at them for a few seconds trying to understand what in the world we had them for. I mean, honestly. Who in the world would ever need mixing bowls that could double as baby baths? Throw in an oversized salad spoon and you could probably row some of the bowls across the Hudson River as makeshift rafts! These bowls were huge! They must have been made as soup bowls for giants, or maybe as contact lenses for whales. Any way you looked at it, they were much too large for normal person use.

But they were perfect for my Cocoa Pebbles.

I filled the bowl with half a box of Pebbles and some milk, plopped myself in front of the TV and then spent 20 minutes working my way through it while watching Spike TV’s 007 Days of Bond. It was heaven. And the best part? HoBiscuit was nowhere in sight to admonish me for eating that much crap for breakfast.

Mmmm… admonishment-free sugar high. [drool]

My brother is officially famous.

Originally, I had a post ready for today about how mutant llamas were creating robotic duplicates of all my friends so they could torment me with petty insults in their diabolical bid to take over the world, but a funny thing happened as I sat down at the computer this morning.

I had an email.

Normally this wouldn’t be a surprise, because I’m such a celebrity and all that, so I’m used to getting 100’s of emails a day from my adoring fans. I was about to file this email away with all the others in the humorously mislabeled folder called ‘Trash’ in my email reading program when I realized there was something different about this particular piece of mail. It took a minute to dawn on me, but when it did I realized that this email didn’t seem to be from one of my millions of adoring fans. I could tell because for the first time ever this wasn’t a helpful email from a fan with news about some penile enlargement pills, online card games, naked pictures of b-list celebrities or even more mail-order anal hamsters packed in cardboard tubes for easy shipping.

What can I say; I like to play “special” games with my pets.

Anywaste, this particular email was from none other than Papaya, my brother FishMan’s wife. In it she mentioned that my brother’s store had gotten a write-up in New York Magazine! The article is short but still sings the praises of my brother’s shop and I couldn’t be prouder. They even mentioned his website, Aquatic Creations, which I must say was designed by the most brilliant, talented, intelligent, gifted, exceptional… and humble, web site designer in the known universe. I hope all of you take a moment of your time to go visit Fishman, either on his website or in person at his shop, and tell him how beautiful and wonderful his website is and how he should do something really, really, really, really nice for the designer this holiday season. Oh, and if you want, you could congratulate him on the NY Magazine thing, too.

But don’t forget to praise that amazingly great, yet modest, designer!

It was like a kick in the nads.

It was almost as if we were in the room with Grissom and Brass as they finally confronted the woman who was once a man and whom they thought was responsible for the deaths of several men who wished to be women. They were ‘grilling’ her, trying to get her to admit what she had done, but she was playing the self-righteous helper of the helpless card to the hilt and HoBiscuit and I were on the edge of our seats waiting for her to fall. Then, just as Brass was about to oh-so-nonchalantly lean on the table and dispense justice in the form of a witty remark that would make the evildoer break down and cry…

The TV goes dark.

WHAT?! Our cries of despair were loud enough to cause the lights in the ceiling to rattle. I immediately attempted to switch channels, for my feeble man-mind somehow believed that merely flipping to a different channel would fix whatever ailed the little demons inside the TV that were in charge of reception for CBS. But, what’s this?! There’s nothing on NBC either? Frantic now, I start flipping channels like I was a 10 year veteran chef at IHOP;

2 CBS – Darkness
3 TNT – Picture!
4 NBC – A chasm of dark doom
5 Fox – Black as my heart
6 Nick – Spongebob in all his glory
7 ABC – A black hole sucking the life from my body
8 TBS – Tha’hr be reception, Matey
9 UPN – The antithesis of content
10 CNN – News galore!
11 WB – There may have been something there, but really, who cares?

I was in shock. All of our local channels were gone. Poof, just like that. The only thing that made sense to me was that Osama bin Laden and his Al-Qaeda cronies had managed to take over the broadcast satellite and, by reversing the polarity of the onboard flux capacitor’s, had set into action their plan of world domination through television disruption in the household of The Mighty Geek. Now I’m in tears, as I desperately search the internet in the vain hope of finding out what happened in the final 10 minutes of CSI. All while Osama sits in his cave, safe and sound and laughing maniacally at my helplessness as the giant, unseen wheels of his evil plan to take over the world begin turning.

…

Dammit, what the FRICK happened on CSI?!

Life is good. And bad.

My kitchen is finally finished; I’ll have some pictures for you later this week but for now, let’s just say that HoBiscuit and I are sacrificing small animals to the remodeling gods in thanks for finally getting those lousy contractors out of our apartment. If you’re confused as to why we would be elbow deep in squirrel guts and chicken eyeballs but still be whistling a happy tune, then you should read this past post of mine and edjumacate ya’self.

And then there’s Halo 2…

Yes, my copy finally arrived and I couldn’t be more happy. And pissed off. Why am I pissed off? Well, I’m so glad you asked. You see, I’ve been waiting for this game for over two years and now that I finally have it in my possession I want nothing more than to rip off its plastic wrapper and play it until my eyes bleed and my sphincter implodes.

But I can’t.

No, not because I don’t know how to remove the plastic wrapper, although that is a good guess. It’s because I promised my friends that I wouldn’t play Halo 2 until they could all come over and we could play it together because they’re all tired of the way I smash them to pieces in the original Halo. It seems that all these years of getting my anus wiped when playing against Bread has been good for me when it comes time to give my friends the smackdown. They get Halo Loser Pains and I prescribe Rocket Launcher Robitussin.

Call me Dr. “Boom-Boom” Spartan, Baby! Yeah, Baby. YEAH!

But now I have to wait until they can all come over before I’m actually allowed to even OPEN the damn game. And even worse, they’re under no restrictions whatsoever and they’re all practicing their Halo 2 skilz 24/7 just so they can gang up on me and kill me whenever we do get together.

Have I mentioned that I hate waiting?

I hate today.

Today really sucks. I don’t care how many other people in the world are happy because I know I’m right when I say that today is the suckiest day in the history of sucky days. It’s such a sucky day that it defies the laws of physics and common sense by somehow both sucking and blowing at the same time.

If this day had a name, it would be Sir Sucky McSucksuck. The Third.

In case you didn’t know already, today is the day that Halo 2 is being released. I had my copy reserved since September of LAST FRICKING YEAR, that’s 2003 people, and yet I do not have a copy of this, the most fabulous of… uhm… fabulous-y? games in my hot little hands. And, according to the packing and shipping demons at Amazon, my copy won’t be shipped until the end of DECEMBER! DECEMBER!

I can’t… They won’t… I just… The… AAARGH!

So, now I’m forced to call those I know who actually stood on line at stores that opened at midnight for a Halo 2 Midnite Madness Super Sale and ask them to describe the game to me. In lurid detail. Over the phone! I’m going to feel like some sicko who calls those phone sex hotlines, you know?

“Oooo, tell me about polygon count! Describe Cortana! Is she hot? Shoot two guns at the same time and hold the phone to the TV speaker so I can hear it! Is that the sound of a rocket launcher? Oh god, I think I wet my pants…”

If I had any pride left I think I’d weep in shame…

It’s been a tough weekend.

On Thursday GeekHaus suffered a blow that would have brought other, less adaptable, households to their knees. And although the forces of evil did their worst, we did not falter in our efforts to thwart their attack and continue our sworn mission to bring Geekiness to all the peoples of the world. So when, on a day that shall be forever known as Dark Thursday, the army of Chaos caused us to lose that which we so desperately loved, our cable modem, we did what every Geek family has done since the beginning of recorded time.

We complained. Loudly.

And so it came to pass that on Tuesday, a day that shall forever after be known as Victoria (because it sounds nice and makes us feel all funny inside), order was restored to the world in the form of a working cable modem in the GeekHaus. And there was great rejoicing.

And now for something completely different.

Today in America is Election Day. If you’re American and you have not yet voted then stop reading this, get off your butt and get out there and vote! I don’t really care who you vote for, just do you duty and vote for someone. Hell, if you don’t like anybody on the tickets write in someone you do like. John Stewart, Pete Rose, Woody Woodpecker… anybody, because if you don’t vote then you have absolutely NO FRICKING RIGHT to ever complain about, give praise to, or be proud/despondent about the people in office.

And now it’s time for Election Day TV and Whoppers.