Rotten Memories

Why didn’t anyone tell me it was summer?

When I was a kid, the advent of summer vacation was heralded by the end of school and a whole two, or sometimes even three, months of freedom. The freedom to do whatever I wanted every hour of every day of the week until school would once again rear its ugly head sometime in September and suck my unwilling body back into its annoyingly educational embrace. Back then, summer meant long days of fun in the sun with my friends with nary a care in the world. My days spent on the beach, my nights out on the town with close friends and every day another wonderful adventure with all the beautiful people I knew. Ah summer, what a wonderful time.

Ah, bullpoop.

I don’t know how or when my real memories of summer were glazed over with these happy-go-lucky false imaginings, but it seems as if my own mind is trying to brainwash itself into recalling things about my younger days that never actually happened. I don’t know about you, but when I was a kid summer meant one of two things; being sent away for two months of sleepaway summer camp, or two months of absolutely nothing to do!

And, as we all know, boredom is evil.

Stripping away all the varnish from my memories, I’m getting a clearer picture of what summer was REALLY like for me as a kid. For one thing, I was a kid. And being a kid meant that most of New York was closed to me. No bars, no clubs, not even some back-room poker games with knife fights breaking out like zits on a nervous high school boy.

Also, as a kid, I had no job.

That means I had no money. And no money in New York means you can’t go anywhere or do anything. You can’t afford to see a movie. You can’t afford to buy a toy. And forget about asking out that cute girl down the block. Hell, you can’t even buy food for yourself let alone the girl you’re trying to impress. Now, I ask you, what kind of sick summer vacation memory is that for a young boy to have?

“So, did you enjoy our first date Suzie?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked me out GeekMan, but I can’t help but wonder if this date might have been better if we had, you know, gone somewhere or done something besides walk around my block and talk about the Thundercats for four hours.”
“Well, I wanted to take you to a movie…”
“That sounds wonderful! Let’s go!”
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“No money.”
“Well, I’m sure your allowance…”
“No allowance.”
“Well, that’s alright, I guess. We don’t need to see a movie as long as we have a nice time together. And I did have a nice time, even if you are a bit… strange. But just now I’m a little bit hungry.”
“Well…”
“Oh no. Don’t say it.”
“It’s not my fault! Do you know how much a Happy Meal costs? I’m not made of money, you know! I’m only 10!”
“Sigh. My mother was right.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“All of ten and already a loser.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“Take me home.”
“Ok.”
“Oh, and GeekMan?”
“Yeah?”
“The Thundercats suck.”
[sob]

Basket Case

I think I’m a pansy.

For the last few days I’ve been watching a DVD collection of an anime show called Fruits Basket, and I can’t stop. What’s worse, I don’t want to stop. My intellect keeps telling me that it’s just a stupid cartoon, that I can’t possibly like it as much as I do and that I shouldn’t enjoy such a silly piece of animated garbage so much that I actually plan my day around how many episodes I can watch before dinner.

But, intellect be damned, I do.

I keep telling myself that I couldn’t possibly find a cartoon so obviously geared towards tween- and teenage girls so damn good that I would actually begin to think about buying figurines of the characters to keep in my house. And yet, here I sit actively searching the net for some kind of action figure, model or other toy and actually getting upset about only being able to find stupid, girly-girl plush toys of the cute-beyond-belief animals.

And you know, after a while they actually look kinda cute.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m overreacting. That maybe, due to all the traveling I’ve been doing lately, my brain has disconnected from my body and so I’m more susceptible to this type of heart-string tugging, girly-girl targeting EVIL anime of the devil. And normally I’d agree with you and thank you profusely for showing me the error of my ways by allowing you to pummel me to within an inch of my pathetic, little life so as to reaffirm my manliness to the world.

But not this time.

Because this time I think I really like this show regardless of the fact that it’s a show for girls. It’s a good show. Period. And even though it might forever tarnish my standing as a stud-muffin of ultra-Geekiness in your eyes, I’m not afraid to admit that I like it. And I’m also not afraid to tell you, yes YOU, to go rent it, buy it or borrow it. Because you should watch it, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to put on my pink pajamas with feeties and watch the whole show from the beginning again. And this time I’ll even sing the opening theme song. Out loud.

I am such a sad, sad little man.

World PhotoBloggery

The above photographs are from Cannes, France.
The above photographs are from Ghana, Africa.
The above photographs are from the Independance Day celebrations in New York City, USA 2005.

Foolish Games

I’m back!

Holy mother of pearl has it been a crazy month, but now that it’s over all I want to do is sleep for about a year and use my brain as a doorstop to keep people from coming into my bedroom to wake me up. And I’ll tell you another thing, I’ve been… huh? What did you say? Oh.

Yeah, it’s a small door. You’re very clever. Now shut up.

For those of you who might have cared enough about this poor Geek to have thought about writing me during my absence let me assure you that I felt your desire to send the email and am sure you would have if your pet hamster hadn’t eaten your laptop. I promise I’ll thank you from the depths of my soulless body and will pretend to completely understand when you tell me how you distinctly recall writing me a long email inquiring about my well being while I was away and am I sure I didn’t receive it and mistakenly throw it away thinking it was spam?

Sigh, no one loves me.

Anywaste, maybe you’re curious about what I’ve been doing these last few weeks that has kept me from you, and maybe you aren’t. Either way, I’m going to tell you because it’s finally over and I feel like a new man. What I’ve been doing is working on New York’s ultimately doomed bid to host the 2012 Olympics. That’s why I’ve been all over the world these last few months and also why I haven’t had time to write here, or even eat or sleep!

Ah, blessed sleep, thy sweet embrace beckons me…

Well, now that it’s all over with, and for those who care to know NY lost and London won, I can finally catch up on all the eating, sleeping and writing I’ve been neglecting to do while they beat me into submission as I tried to make their presentations look better than the flaming piece of poo on a stick that they actually were. Wait, I take that back. Flaming poo on a stick would have been MUCH better than what they were actually presenting to the IOC.

Much, MUCH better.

So, I’ve got pictures to show you of some of the places I’ve been, including Cannes and Ghana, and also some pictures I took on the 4th of the NYC fireworks which I took from my Brooklyn rooftop. And after that I promise to go back to my regular schedule of stupid stories and idiotic observations. And if you’re real good, some of them might even be funny. What? Since when have I ever been funny? Oh, aren’t you clever.

Now shut up, I’m trying to sleep.

Where’s GeekMan? III

I’m done.

I can’t keep up this pace, people. I’m not a machine! I’m a human being and I need sleep and food and all sorts of other things to keep me alive and in relatively good mental and emotional health or I’ll go nutso! As it is I’m already I’m losing it! The other day, as I sat on another airplane on my way to/from another city I actually began to believe that there were terrorist weasels sitting in first class demanding free mini-bottles of scotch or they would hijack the plane and make us fly to Jamaica for the International Limbo and Steel Drum Convention.

And I thought that sounded like a good idea!

Hrmph. So, in an totally useless attempt to retain whatever sanity I have left, I’ve decided that I’m going to have to step away from this website until my travel schedule slows down enough for me to spend more than one night in a row at home. For those of you who have not been keeping up, let me just say that although the places I’ve been to, and am going, might sound fun and exotic to you, to me they only sound like no sleep and lots of hard work.

And so, to answer Where’s GeekMan? III… In hell.

Seriously, since May 1st I’ve already been to five cities and by the middle of July, which is when my schedule slows down, I’ll have been to three more. And that’s not taking into account that whenever I am back in NY I’m working at some random hotel or office doing pre-production for the next trip out again. Just to keep you guys occupied for a few moments here’s a list of the places I’ve been and will be in order of my schedule:

  • Home
  • Orlando
  • Puerto Rico
  • New York City
  • Houston, Texas
  • New Jersey
  • New York City
  • Cannes, France
  • New York City
  • Ghana, Africa
  • New York City
  • New Jersey
  • Home

Not to complain, but that’s a hell lot of traveling for two months.

You may have noticed that I mention NYC a lot in that list, well that’s because the companies that hire me have offices there and whenever I’m working for them I usually have to do pre-production at their offices. Sometimes I get to go home at night to see HoBiscuit and sometimes they put me up in a hotel in order to keep my leash on longer so I always remember who’s in charge and don’t get crazy ideas in my WageMonkey head while they sleep.

Like escaping to Jamaica to become a professional limbo-ist.

Anywaste, I’m sorry to tell you that because of my immense workload I’m going to have to stop writing my funny stories here for a while. I know, I know, “Since when have you written something funny? Haw, haw!” Well, I guess I deserve that since I’ve been pretty sporadic for the last month or so. But I promise that when I return in July I will once again be writing something funny (or at least something I think is funny) every weekday, just like old times.

I might also be debuting a new look. If I’m lucky.

I will try to write in here every chance I get; it’s not as if I’m going to just disappear off the face of the earth for a month you know. I just can’t promise to do it on any sort of regular schedule. So check back here every day and maybe, just maybe, there’ll be something here to make you laugh.

And if there isn’t… who cares?! I’m going to Cannes and Ghana! WooHoo!

Geek Of Ages

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.

Today marks the fourth birthday of this Web Log, which means that I have been wasting my bandwidth and your time with my inane words and stupid stories for over 1,459 days. It’s a wonder that I’m still here, but even more of a wonder that there are some people out there who actually enjoy my brand of craziness enough to come back week after week to read the drivel I post here at The Mighty Geek.

Idiots.

Four years ago I started this site with a whimper, barely a blip on the radar screen of the great information superhighway. This was just another worthless web site with nothing to offer the world but essays written in kindergarten-level English containing the naval-gazing, sophomoric humor of yet another online idiot with delusions of grandeur. I never wanted to change the world with this site; I didn’t want to change anyone’s mind, belief or viewpoint to mine. And because of that I never tried to be relevant, cutting edge or even controversial.

I just tried to be funny.

All I wanted to do was find a group of people out there in the world who would enjoy my stories and possibly even find them as funny as I do. Things happen all the time in my life that I wanted to share with others in the hopes that they too would find them as funny as I did. Things that have happened in my past, my present and yeah, sometimes only in my mind, make me fall down to the ground laughing while those around me scratch their heads in bewilderment wondering if they should join in or get a stick to place between my teeth.

And I was tired of choking on bark.

So, here I am, just like that stupid battery-bunny in the commercials; still going after four years of throwing my words out into the ether, and still wondering if anyone out there is listening. So today, on the day that my website celebrates its fourth year of existence, I’m going to do the unusual (for me) and ask you, my loyal and loving readership, to do something for me.

I want love.

Yeah, you heard me. I want love. I want those of you who have websites to write a little something about my site and link it to me. But I’m looking for the craziest, weirdest, wackiest words/sentences/paragraphs you’ve ever used to link to someone. I want word combinations that will make the editors of Merriam Webster’s dictionary cringe. Be creative. Be inventive. Be Geeky. Insult me in a new and creative way. Tell people why you keep coming back here even though I warn you not to. Make me laugh with how silly your words about me are. Hell, make yourself laugh and forget about anyone else. Most of all have fun with this, because lord knows I love me a good laugh.

Happy birthday to TMG. And happy damn day to you.

FreakMan

The gods mock me.

About ten minutes ago, as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror for the 1,000,000,000th time of my life, I looked down at my belly and discovered that my bellybutton is not centered on my stomach like it is for normal people. As far back as I can remember I believe it has been centered. At least, I don’t ever recall noticing it being askew before and believe me, its non-centeredness isn’t something I would overlook when I go through my daily leprosy check. In fact, my bellybutton is now located far enough to the right of center to be obvious to the untrained eye, and it frightens me. In the nanosecond it took for my brain to process the highly disturbing fact that I was most likely a mutant-troll doomed to grow more and more grotesque every day until I am forced by an angry mob of torch-bearing villagers to live in the sewers below my neighborhood and sustain myself by consuming raw rats and small children, another even more frightening thought made its way through my mind and filled me with a dread that I know is going to keep me from sleeping peacefully for the next few years of my life.

If my bellybutton was once perfectly centered on my belly, who was moving it? And why?!
Continue reading

Where’s GeekMan? II

My brain farted.

Actually, I’ve just been so busy that I haven’t had time to come up with another clever method of giving you clues to my whereabouts. So, in a spasm of non-creativeness I’ve decided to simply list a few facts about the place I’m in and the hotel I’m staying at and see if anyone out there can come up with the right answers. Remember, I’m not just looking for the city/State/country, I also want the name of my hotel.

And now; The Clues. In orgasmically cryptic list form!

  • This land is a protected, shining star.
  • According to Rick, the women from here live the crazy life.
  • Rick also thinks this whole place is ‘his’ place.
  • Rick is an ass.
  • It’s hot here.
  • And moist.
  • And humid.
  • Did I mention hot?
  • The frogs here come out at night to annoy people who are trying to sleep.
  • By saying just two letters most people would know exactly what place I am talking about.
  • The place where I’m staying might be translated as ‘the 16th century explorer’.

I miss my bed.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

What’s it all for?!

When I shower I use some shampoo and a bar of soap. Sometimes, if I feel like pampering myself, I’ll use conditioner and sing show tunes. Now, I know that math isn’t my greatest academic strength (which, for the record, just so happens to be “How To Crack Your Best Friends’ Crack – Making The Perfect Rat-Tail Towel-Whip 101”) but when adding up all the products I use when I bathe, I consistently get the number 3.

Yet, there seem to be far more than three items in my shower.

A quick scan of my shower reveals to me three bars of soap, two large bottles of shampoo, no less than five travel-size bottles of shampoo from various upscale hotels, three travel-size bottles of conditioner, two bottles of lotion, a razor, a loofah and a partridge in a pear tree.

It’s a wonder I can fit in there with all that junk!

Now, on a subconscious level I guess I knew about the invasion, but I didn’t notice how cluttered my shower had become until this morning when, as I stepped over the rim of the bathtub (careful not to knock over the little shampoo bottles, of course) I discovered two new sponges and a hair scrunchy laying on the bathtub floor. Not knowing what to do about these items I promptly went back into the bedroom, woke HoBiscuit up and demanded an explanation.

She was not happy.

So, after being beaten to within an inch of my life by my not-so-lovely-when-she’s-sleep-deprived wife, she explained to me using small words in the soothing tones usually reserved for mentally challenged children, that I needed to grow up because while men (and men was said in the same tone she might have used to describe a particularly disgusting form of butt fungus) might be able to get away with cleaning themselves with whatever was handy, (spit, gravel, planks of wood with a fish carcass nailed to it) women needed to be pampered or they would simply rot where they stood and melt away into a puddle of grease, grime, dirt and dead skin cells.

Sugar and spice?! Hardly!

So now, as I lay here in my hospital bed recovering from HoBscuit’s love taps, I can only wonder;

What do you have in your shower, and why?