The Little People

• by GeekMan • In Childhood Memories •   6

I always wondered what they ate.

When I was very young, I truly believed that there were people living in the television whose sole purpose in life was to entertain me. Don’t misunderstand me, I knew cartoons weren’t real. I just thought that the people in the TV could draw really, really fast.

So fast that I never saw their hands, no matter how hard I squinted.

For a while I wouldn’t even turn off the TV in the middle of a show for fear of accidentally killing one of the TV gnomes who lived inside it. Once, I even watched a whole episode of Bonanza desperately doing the pee-pee dance, scared to death that if I turned the TV off, or even walked away, one of the poor miniature horsies would die. I wouldn’t even change the channel unless there weren’t any ‘real’ people on the screen, just in case they got caught in the dial.

Yeah, dial. Remember those? No? Smart-alecky whippersnapper.

Anywaste, one day, I was watching some stupid show when one of the people turned directly to the camera and said something along the lines of, “You can’t hide from us!” I think it was a detective drama and the character was supposed to be talking to the suspect, but I swear to you I actually believed he was talking to me.

And I was frightened out of my mind.

The TV gnomes were watching me! They knew everything I did! They could tell my mom that I had hidden my brother’s favorite toy in the toilet’s water tank! I’d be in trouble, big trouble, and the TV gnomes would probably just laugh at me when I wasn’t allowed to watch them for a week. They’d probably even be happy to have a week off. They could go on a vacation, or something. Get out and see the… world…

Oh. My. God.

What if the TV gnomes could get OUT of the TV whenever they wanted?! They could be sneaking around the house at night trying to find where my mother hid the knives so they could kill us! Oh no! What was I going to do?! I knew, even at such a young age, that no one else would believe me because the kids on TV were never believed until it was too late.

And I didn’t want it to be too late.

So that night, after everyone had gone to bed, I set a TV Gnome trap. I don’t remember the actual mechanics of it, but I do recall it involving Tinker Toys, a very large Tonka dump truck, marbles and peanut butter. Yeah, peanut butter. I don’t know how I knew, but somehow I did know that the TV gnomes just adored peanut butter. But, because I liked chunky Skippy peanut butter, I was using the crappy creamy Jiffy that we kept in the house for peanut butter emergencies.

What? Yeah, like you never had a peanut butter crisis as a kid.

Well, I set my trap and went back to bed. I had been careful not to go anywhere near the living room as a safety precaution so as not to give away my plans to the TV gnomes, and I was sure I had succeeded in keeping them in the dark. And even though I knew my trap was perfect, I just couldn’t fall asleep. I kept going over my plans in my head, sure that I hadn’t made any mistakes, but also positive that there was something I had forgotten. If only I could remember what it was. If only I could think of the thing I had forgotten about. If only I could stop that annoying licking sound so I could think of the stupid thing I…

Oh.

Quietly getting out of bed, I went to the hallway where I had set my perfect TV gnome trap and found it in shambles as Sam, our family dog, licked up the lovely, super-delicious peanut butter I had been using as bait for the TV gnomes. As she realized she was being watched she stopped her licking and shamefacedly looked up at me with her eyes, but without lifting her head from the floor. Mustering all the authority I had in my tiny four-year-old body I put my hands on my hips and frowned.

“What are you doing?”
[shameful look]
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
[sad look of confusion]
“You’ve ruined my TV gnome trap! Now they’re free to get me!”
[hanging head of shame]
“What am I going to do now?”
[ears perk]
“What? You think you know?”
[single wag of tail]
“Huh? You’re going to protect me?”
[head up, tail high]
“But they’re clever, the TV gnomes. Are you sure you can protect me?”
[wagging tail]
“Ok. But, and it’s not that I’m scared or anything, but you’ll have to sleep in my room, ok?”
[spastically happy tail]
“Right. We’ll have to be very quiet. You’re not allowed in there and if FishMan hears you he’ll tell mom and we’ll get in trouble, so don’t make any noise, ok?”
[orgasmic tail wagging]
“Oh, and if the TV gnomes get in the room, you have to protect me, but you can let them eat FishMan, ok?”
[Sam goes into convulsions and sees a tunnel and a white light]
“You’re such a good dog.”
[joy-induced heart attack, hamburger-frisbees and fire hydrants await in heaven]

And that is when I stopped being afraid of the TV gnomes.

Bad To The Last Drop

• by GeekMan • In Rants •   3

Post Urination Drip

Don’t look so shocked. Someone out there had to have the nads to bring this shameful secret to light, and I’m just the Geek to do it. PUD has haunted mankind since the dawn of time and no one has ever mentioned it. Because we’re all ashamed to tell the world that we pee our pants.

Don’t look so high and mighty; you know it’s happened to you.

Oh yes, it has. No one likes to talk about it, we all pretend that it doesn’t happen, but it does. And the truly sad thing is; everyone knows it. It’s a fact of nature that cannot be denied and no matter what we do to try and stop it, we never will. We shake, we wipe, we squeeze, we even do little dances and pray in front of the porcelain alter in the hopes that just once, just this one frickin time, it won’t happen to us. And every time, every single time, the porcelain gods laugh as that one last drop spreads its wet warmth around our loins and we spend the next half-hour doing the “Am I showing wetness” crotch-check. And then, as a final, cruel joke, because your crotch is now cold and wet, you swear you need to pee again.

And you know you don’t.

Every day we live in dread of the moment when PUD will happen to us. If a pharmaceutical company were to spend the time and money to create a pill that would eradicate PUD from the world I think they’d make billions, as long as they didn’t give it some stupid name like PUD-B-Gone, Urin-NOT or DripAway. No one would want to be caught dead carrying a little bottle with one of those names on it. Can you imagine the water-cooler talk if someone saw you popping DripAway at the office?

“Hey Frank, you hear about GeekMan?”
“No. What’s up?”
“He’s got a… little… problem.”
“What? Drugs?”
“No. Worse. He’s got a [vague hand gesture] little problem.”
“What? Oh. OH! You mean…?” [spills a drop of water on floor]
“Yeah.”
“Wow. The poor schmuck.”
“I know.”
“We should do something.”
[awkward silence]
“Do you think Hallmark has a card for this?”

Sin Geeky

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   4

It was a beautiful movie.

With its glorious black and white palette punctuated by spots of color so vivid as to cause objects to literally leap off the screen and punch you in the eye, Sin City was everything a comic book turned action movie was meant to be. From the extremely cheesy dialogue, to the computer generated sets, to the outlandish wardrobe (mostly worn by the women), everything in the movie screamed graphic novel come to life.

And I was loving it.

I sat there, one row higher than the middle of the screen and directly in the center of the theater, marveling at the sheer cinematic genius of the film as I stuffed my face full of sugar and salt. I munched on my ultramaximumsupremeextralarge popcorn, drank my swimming pool sized soft drink and chewed on 2,200 Twizzlers as the movie entertained me without giving even a thought to what consuming such foodstuff would do to my delicate gastrointestinal tract.

And then Dwight and Jackie Boy conversed in the car.

This was a humorous scene. It was funny. Very. And I wanted to laugh and show my appreciation for witnessing such a clever scene in such a good movie so I opened my mouth and laughed very, very loudly.

Only, what came out was not a laugh.

As soon as I opened my mouth I knew I was in trouble. There was no question of softening it, or of closing my mouth again in the hopes of stifling the beast before it was birthed upon an unsuspecting world. Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to stop this creature from escaping the confines of my mouth and thus save myself from the embarrassment to follow, but I was too slow and weak and it was a mighty beast that would not be denied.

Before I even knew what had happened it was free.

It started loud and ended louder. It promised foul deeds carried on the wings of death for all gods creatures. Grown men in third world countries, powerful leaders and warriors all, looked to the sky in fear as the horrible sound of their childhood bogeymen on the hunt reached their ears. Children cried, women fainted and small woodland creatures died in shock.

“BbbBBbbuuUUUUuuRrrRRrppPPppPPpp!”
“Oh. My. God.”
“I’m sorry, Honey! Really! I couldn’t help it, it just came out!”
[giggle] “GeekMan, that’s disgusting!”
“But… but I didn’t mean to do it! I was laughing…”
[laughter] “I can’t believe you. You are such a caveman pig. I’m so embarrassed! [giggle] Everyone’s looking at us… Ugh, don’t even look at me. Pretend we don’t know each other, maybe they’ll take pity on me or something.”
“But it’s not my fault…”
“Shush, watch the movie. Pig. [giggle]”
“…”
“…”
“Pass the popcorn.”
“I want a divorce.”

Truth

• by GeekMan • In Quickie •   8

I can hold my peace no longer.

Today I need to say something on my very public website for the whole world to see that may not make sense to everyone, but for those of us who travel a lot, and I mean a whole lot, it will have a very deep and profound meaning. And what I have to say is this; Airports suck ass.

Giant. Puckering. Infected. Ass.

Jell-O Shots

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   2

My apologies.

Have you ever gone about your entire day, doing all the normal things you normally do on a normal day, with the strange feeling that something was wrong? The feeling of general unease that leads you to check your pockets half a dozen times before you leave the house to make sure you won’t forget your wallet and keys? And then, just as the door closes behind you, you check once again, just in case you were mistaken the first six times?

And then realize you forgot your pants?

Well, all day I’ve been wandering the house in a sort of daze. Going from task to task in a fog trying to remember what it was that I was forgetting. I knew it was something important but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what it was.

Until, that is, 5 minutes ago while I was eating my Jell-O.

You see, I was sitting at the table, spooning superwonderously taste-tastic Jell-O into my mouth when something funny occurred on the TV and, while attempting to laugh and swallow the Jell-O at the same time, I accidentally choked and blew a chunk of Guava-Passion flavored Jell-O out of my nose and onto the table.

For those who keep score, my distance was a paltry 2 and a half feet.

As I sat there at the table, simultaneously laughing, coughing and thanking all manner of beings in the cosmos that HoBiscuit had fallen asleep on the couch and so had missed my latest failed attempt to make her a widow, I couldn’t help thinking what a great story my personal Jell-O Shot would make on my Blog. And that’s when I remembered what I had forgotten to do today and tried to simultaneously gasp in surprise, stand up and swallow the rest of the Jell-O in my mouth. And… so, now you know why the title of this post is Jell-O Shots.

Ow. I need a tissue.

The Valiant Valet

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Traveling •   3

“And what are we doing today?”

This was asked by our valet as he held the car door open so HoBiscuit could get in to our rental car outside of our Hawaiian hotel. It was a polite question, said in a jovial and cordial tone, most likely to help us feel as if he truly cared in the hopes of us gifting him with a larger tip. He knew, and most guests knew, that his words were nothing but a thin, nearly transparent film of polite animosity, behind which he barely concealed his empty-eyed stare, bored stance and fake smile. But still, like the spawning salmon fighting its way upstream knowing that the end of its journey also meant the end of its very life, our intrepid valet continued to inquire the hotel guests about their health, daily activities and other small-talk niceties just to help pass the time during his terminally boring day.

All of this is just to say that what follows was not his fault.

You see, HoBiscuit and I were on our way to a grand adventure the type of which HoBiscuit had never partaken in before. There would be kayaking down rivers, tractor pulls through forests and farmland, rope bridges, zip-lines, waterfalls, cliff dives, hikes, swims, motor boating and all manner of other good, outdoorsy-type stuff that she had never even imagined she might do on a vacation getaway, let alone during a single seven-hour tour.

By which I mean to say that HoBiscuit was excited.

Some people, when they’re excited, show their excitement by becoming jittery and begin hopping from foot to foot. Some people smile and sweat until they resemble nothing so much as a frog with teeth and an upset stomach. Some people even develop a nervous little laugh when they are excited, sounding to the world like a hyena with the hiccups. But HoBiscuit had none of these afflictions. Instead, as with many, many other people on this earth, when she is excited and nervous, HoBiscuit becomes chatty. And loud.

And our poor valet had unknowingly opened the floodgates.

“We’re going on an adventure tour! It’s going to be sooooo great! We’re going to kayak down the river and then hike to a secluded waterfall where we’ll swing on a rope and jump in the river! Then we’re going to hike some more to a tractor that’s going to take us to another river where we’ll zip-line across and then cross back over on a swinging rope bridge! I think that’s crazy, especially since I’m scared of heights, but how many times do you get to zip-line across a river and cross a rope bridge?! I mean, I guess I’ll be scared, but I think I’ll do it anyway because it might be fun, too. You know? Oh! And then we’re going to hike to ANOTHER waterfall where…”

And on, and on, and on.

The entire paragraph above was transmitted to our valet in the span of time it took for HoBiscuit to take the three steps from the back of the car to the passenger side door he was holding open for her. Try to imagine the look on our poor valet’s face as he was bombarded with far more information than he ever in his short (and growing shorter by the second) life would have ever wanted to know about one of the hotel’s guests. Especially one whose husband was a little stingy with the tips which he depended upon in order to purchase wax for his surfboard. He had only expected a short, “We’re going to the beach.” Or possibly, “We’re going to go shopping.”

If it were a good day he’d get $10 and, “None of your damn business.”

He never expected to be given a step-by-step dissertation on a guest’s entire day’s activities at a volume level WAY past eleven. Many other valets, faced with such a chatty guest, would have become flustered. They might have let slip their professional facade of distant politeness and actually warmed to the person who seemed to so desperately need a friend to talk to like our hapless HoBiscuit.

But not our valet.

He was a consummate professional and, mustering all his years of experience in the valet profession, he managed to hold his vacant smile until HoBiscuit had situated herself inside the vehicle and then, as she continued to bombard him with ever more detailed descriptions of our planned days outing, he spoke over her in a continuous monotone that stopped her excited tirade in mid-sentence.

“Uh-huhthat’sniceokaybuh-bye.”

And then he closed the door in her face.

Obligatory “I’m Back” Post

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, Traveling •   6

So, I went to Hawaii for two weeks.

Why, you ask? Well, three weeks ago I had had enough of the workload I’ve been carrying since November and HoBiscuit was burning out at her job so we simply left. You heard me, we up and went away. After working nonstop for over three months straight, meaning no weekends, days off or anything else that might have allowed me to rest and recuperate, I knew that if I didn’t get away for a bit I would be going away for a long, LONG time. In a nice 10×10 foot padded cell. With a stylish white dinner jacket that tied in the back and an attendant whose only job would be to wipe the drool from my chin and help me swallow my happy pills.

Hmmm. Actually, come to think on it that doesn’t sound too bad…

Anywaste, getting away was probably the best thing we could have ever done. Kind of like our much delayed honeymoon. We feel much better than we have in a long time; we look tan and well rested and are even happy to be back home and working again. Hey, and even though I haven’t written here in a while don’t think for a moment that I don’t have stuff to say anymore.

Cause that would be just soooooo wrong.

So many fun and kooky things happened during this trip that I can’t even begin to write about all of them right now. All I can do is let you know that tomorrow I’ll start writing about what happened to us in Hawaii while today I’ll gather my thoughts and plan how to best illustrate in words some of the absolutely gut-wrenchingly funny stuff that happened to us while we were there.

We’re talking comedy gold here people.

So, in the meantime, for those of you who have stuck around waiting for me to return ever since my abrupt disappearance over two months ago all I can say is, you really, really need to get a life. Seriously. Or at least get up from the computer, warn the family that you’re coming out so they can clear the hallways and hide the pets, and take a shower.

Because dude, you are STANKY!