Holey Underwear, GeekMan

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   7

I need new underwear.

Just a little while ago, as I was sitting on the toilet, I happened to glance down and noticed that my tighty-whities had a hole in them about the size of a quarter. Right in the middle of the butt. One might think it a little strange for me not to notice a hole like that when I first put them on this morning but really, I don’t think anyone reading this Blog is all that surprised.

Especially since we’re talking about me.

Anywaste, after bowing my head in shame for a bit, I decided my best chance for redemption was to simply go to my stash of clean underwear and change into a non-holey pair. Unfortunately, since I am still living out of suitcases and plastic covered boxes, the only other clean underwear I could find also had holes in them.

Big, gaping, I’m-under-attack-by-killer-moths holes.

So now I’m thinking about going out and buying some new underwear except that if I do buy new underwear HoBiscuit will want to buy herself some new clothes and by the time we’re done shopping we’ll need a new apartment just for all our new clothes and we won’t be able to pay for the kitchen remodeling we’re doing in this apartment. It’s a conundrum, alright, and I’m paralyzed with indecision, because wearing holey underwear feels wrong but going commando makes me feel all flippy-floppy. So I’m having an internal debate over whether I should buy more tighty-whities or if I should go with the newfangled fitted boxer-briefs I’ve seen in the stores, because even though I like boxers I just don’t think I could handle that much freedom.

Hey, what’s with all the gagging?

The Road To Rhode Island

• by GeekMan • In Traveling •   3

Or, Inspector Clouseau’s Proper Table Etiquette While On A Train.

I was sitting at one of the table/seats on the train with two friends, MovieStar and Wheezy, when the trouble started. Now, for those of you who don’t know what I mean when I say train table/seats let me explain before I go any further. Table/seats on a train have four seats, two facing front and two facing backwards with a table in the middle of them. The table has two folding leaves on it that, when folded, will allow the passengers to get in and out of the seats, but when unfolded approximates a regular table, albeit with spill-guards around the edges.

Kind of like baby chairs for four grownups.

Now that we all know what a train table/seat is, I will continue. I was sitting next to the window with MovieStar and Wheezy sitting across from me. The aisle seat next to me was vacant, but only if your definition of ‘vacant’ included a pile of women’s travel bags, a couple of coats and my Mighty Messenger Bag. Movie Star had spent the last half-hour regaling us with the story of her life (which you can see in theaters sometime soon) and Wheezy and I were busy trying to outdo each other with good natured insults. All in all, it was a pleasant ride up until the moment I realized that I needed to get up.

And by ‘get up’ I mean pee like a racehorse with a UTI.
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Back In The Saddle

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   7

Writing is hard.

Especially when you’ve been unwillingly forced to stop doing it for almost two months and have forgotten all the little things you used to do to make the words come so quickly and easily before. It used to be that I would sit down at my computer for about an hour and craft a silly story or an insightful and charming tale of my youth for the world to read and enjoy without breaking a sweat. But now I find myself sitting here begging the words to come forth from the ether they reside within and fill my screen with humorous banter that will bring back the throngs of adoring fans I used to command, and nothing comes out. It’s not as if nothing exciting or funny has happened to me in the last two months, quite the opposite really. I just seem to have forgotten how to write it in a funny way.

I know; sucks to be me.

Anywaste, since this is my first day back, and also since I’m STILL living under plastic sheets with all my worldly possessions contained within cardboard boxes and plastic crates while my kitchen, my own personal white whale, is still in shambles, I think I’ll go easy on myself and simply post some pictures of the renovations with a little descriptive text. If you’re all real nice to me (as in; leave a comment about how much you missed me) then maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you about some of my exploits over the last two months. Otherwise, I’ll just pretend I never left and just keep pounding away here until I become one of the elite Bloggers who are ‘discovered’ in the wild, tagged as ‘relevant’, offered a book deal, given a ‘real’ writing job and then revealed as a hack or has-been and promptly deleted from the collective consciousness of the human race.

It’s all part of my master plan entitled, “Taking Over The World While Baking The Perfect Shortcake In Twelve Easy Steps”.
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Funny You Should Ask…

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   3

Life is very hectic right now.

I know I promised you some pictures earlier this week, but I have a really good excuse as to why I didn’t post them or even post anything until today. No, really. I do. I’m not kidding. Seriously. Wait; just stop rolling your eyes and listen, ok? And no, this time radioactive squirrels are not involved, although I don’t see why you didn’t believe me last time when I told you they had sneaked into my apartment at night and scotch-taped my eyes shut so I couldn’t see and thus couldn’t post anything.

It took me hours to figure out I wasn’t really blind.

Well, this time I’m afraid my reasons are a bit more mundane. You see, work suddenly picked up and then got crazy. Really, really crazy. As in working for 18 hours straight for three days in a row, crazy. And, just when we thought we were almost done with the kitchen, the contractor doing the work just stopped showing up. Don’t worry though, he’s back and working again now, but I guess he decided he needed a few days rest before tackling the hardest part of the remodeling work.

You know, like actually doing something.

Anywaste, I’m being forced to travel for the next week for work so this Blog will once again go stagnant until I return, unless these four guest writers decide to say something while I’m away. (hint, hint) I plan on returning FULL FORCE on Monday, October 11th with all new stories to entertain all of my faithful visitors. Even better, sometime before the new year I will be doing some major remodeling right here on The Mighty Geek. And have no fear; I promise I won’t be using the contractors who are currently destroying my kitchen when I redesign TMG. So stay tuned true believers, the GeekMan you’ve all come to know, loathe, pity and despise will return.

And maybe this time someone will notice.

Some Of The Things I Dream About

• by GeekMan • In Experiments •   3
Unpacking
Six weeks of living out of filthy, plastic covered cardboard boxes is about all I can take before the bodies start to pile up. Right now we’re doing laundry once a week because all we have handy is one week’s worth of clothing. Just yesterday, as I rode the train, two people put spare change into my cup of hot chocolate and a homeless bum took pity on me and gave me directions to a shelter. Funny thing, the soup was really good.
 
Cooking
Never thought I’d miss making a mess on the stove and washing dishes, but by golly, I do. Every time I think about how wonderful a home cooked dinner would be I just have to glance over at the giant pile of rubbish that was once a kitchen and all my hopes and dreams come crashing down around me. Sometimes, when I’m home alone, I even ‘play chef’ by walking around the “kitchen” and pretending to cook. I even make my own chopping and sizzling sound effects. BAM!
 
Furniture
We’ve sold just about all the big furniture items we used to own and now we don’t have a chair to sit on, a table to eat at or even a TV to watch. Which brings me to…
 
Television
We haven’t watched TV at home since the week before we moved into this apartment. I’ve missed the final weeks of The Amazing Race, the whole fricking football pre-season and the opening three weeks of football. Some nights we get withdrawal so bad we actually wander the streets and spy on other people in their homes as they sit on their couches and watch TV. Hey, here’s and interesting tidbit you might not be aware of. Did you know that entire neighborhoods could get a restraining order against someone? Well, now you know.

Tomorrow there will be pictures for you. Please, be gentile with your mockery.

Poor Choices

• by GeekMan • In Quickie •   2

I must be losing my mind.

Against all common sense and good taste I have decided to go see “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow” this evening. I know that it’s going to both suck and blow at the same time, but I just can’t seem to help myself. I normally find Angelina Jolie almost irresistible in a sleazy/scary way and in this movie she’s going to be strutting around the screen wearing a pseudo-airforce uniform and an eyepatch…

Woah! Now I need a towel…

Anywaste, I plan on enjoying this horrid little train wreck of a movie if only for helping me take my mind off of the mess the contractor guys are making of my kitchen. I mean, call me crazy (crazy) but if I were working on a job where I had to build and install cabinetry in a kitchen THREE TIMES because my workers never learned how to use a measuring tape, I think I’d kill the workers and use their bodies as wall insulation.

But maybe that’s just me.
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I’m Not Dead… Yet

• by GeekMan • In Home Ownership •   1

But I’m pretty darn close.

HoBiscuit and I have finally finished running around like headless chickens and have kinda-sorta moved in to our new apartment. I can’t really say that we’ve moved in yet because we’re still living out of cardboard boxes that are covered in plastic sheets which in turn are covered in dust from the contractor’s minions who are, as I write this, remodeling our kitchen. The same kitchen they said would be finished last Friday that they now say won’t be done until sometime in October.

Maybe November.

I hate living like this. I hate waking up every morning looking like a mummy emerging from a sarcophagus in the middle of the Sahara. I can’t stand having to put on fuzzy slippers every time I want to use the bathroom or get a drink of water. It irks me that I have to take a shower both when I wake up and before I go to bed because I’m covered in construction dust from the moment I walk in to my apartment. I really can’t stand having to wrap my toiletry items in Saran Wrap every morning to protect them from being buried under a foot of dust during the day, but even worse is having to unwrap them every night so I can actually use them.

Have I mentioned that I hate dust?

Well, aside from the whole remodeling fiasco, there have been a few other things going on. Obviously, I now have some form of internet access, however since my computer is currently located in the back corner of the second bedroom under a plastic tarp (and guarded by a feral dust bunny the size of Godzilla) I feel I should warn my faithful readership that I may not be updating this site as often as you, or I for that matter, would like. In fact, if I manage to write more than twice a week for the next two weeks I think I should be rewarded. With an expensive dinner and a medal. And maybe a Broadway show.

But not Chicago. I hate Chicago.

My brother finally tied the knot and married a woman far too good for him. I’ll tell you all about what happened at the wedding another time, but for now let me tease you by giving you a bit of advice. If you happen to speak a language other than English and are serving food and drink at a wedding of primarily English speaking guests, do not insult the guests in your native tongue unless you are absolutely positive no one there will understand what you are saying.

Otherwise, there may be trouble.

That’s all the time I’ve got to write right now. It seems that I’ve got to go back out to the kitchen to “discuss” the countertop situation with the contractor again. It’s funny, but apparently contractors might hear you tell them what you want for a countertop, they might see it written in the contract, they might have received the product samples you sent to them, and they might even have seen the countertop material specifically pointed out on a special page of the architect’s plans but, unless you’ve actually gone out in person with them to buy the damn thing they don’t actually believe it’s what you really want.

Sigh. Anybody know the early warning signs for an aneurism?

The Market is Rumors Isn’t What it Used to Be

• by JadedJu • In Guest Writer •   Comments Off on The Market is Rumors Isn’t What it Used to Be

The GeekMan may make himself known this coming week, so this could be my last chance to hijack his weblog.

First and foremost:

Five-Year Old Goddaughter: Hi Auntie Jill, will you come over today? I’m not really sick.

JadedJu: Not really sick? What does that mean?

Goddaughter: Weeeeeeell, I threw up before, but I’m really okay now! You can come over!

JadedJu: So you’re all better?

Goddaugher: Yes! I’m all better! I’m only…ummmmm…[long pause] 1/8th sick now!

JadedJu: Excellent, because my absolute limit on exposure is 1/4th. I’ll be right over.

Second of all:

There is no second of all. It rained this morning, the first such weather in many months. On a freeway on-ramp, driving slowly in accordance with the conditions, I momentarily lost control of the car, fishtailing right and then left. I’m pleased to report that I had both hands on the steering wheel at the moment of occurence, and was therefore able to regain control without incident. This is only worth reporting because it is so rare for me to have both hands anywhere near the wheel. Just moments earlier I had been holding the newspaper in one hand, reading headlines while driving. Before scanning the paper I had placed a few calls on my cell phone. You might not be surprised to hear that I’m often drinking some iced decaf coffee or diet gingerale while I’m reading, gabbing with friends, and just incidently, driving.* The events this morning chastened me, however. I kept both hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road, and I’m happy to report that the rest of the trip was completed without incident.
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First of All, Where’s the GeeK?

• by JadedJu • In Guest Writer •   6

Dear GeekMan:

Blah blah blah, you’ve got a new place to live. Whatever. Like that makes a speck of difference to me, here in California. The fact is, the internetisphere has slowed nearly to a standstill during your rude abandonment of your site and your readers.

We’ve tried to a. be patient, and b. make meager attempts to keep your site updated in your absence (and I do emphasize the meagerness of our efforts–but hey, I’m not updating my own site at all, so that makes it seem that I’m posting nonstop with yours.) But the truth is, not a single one of your readers (and we seem to be certain that there are at least seven of them) cares one whit about your guest posters. They come here everyday with the desperate hope that you and your past(r)y minions will have returned.

Anywaste, as you would say if you were here (but you’re not, and why is that exactly?), I’ve got a few other things to talk about while I’m logged in. Like the woman I had a work meeting with today who said that she “dibbled” in writing, when what she meant was that she “dabbled”. I proceeded to buy her book (because I’m a sucker like that,) and I can tell you now that she was correct in calling it dibbling. Indeed, it’s dibbling down my chin right now.

Then there was the guy I met with this week who thinks I’m going to kiss his feet and hand him an empire, in order than he be able to build on the empire he already stole. I’m going to pretend to hand him my empire while I simultaneously go about undermining his. I can’t wait to witness his surprise, though my dastardly plan will take some time to execute. There’s never a rush when you wish someone ill, however. Like Tony Soprano, I believe that revenge is like serving coldcuts.

In closing, I would like to say that if I call your house and ask to speak with your five year old daughter, I am not interested in a return phone call from you. I have no interest in you, unless you can prove that yesterday was your first day of kindergarten, and not your daughter’s.