I’m At My…

• by GeekMan • In Wedding •   8

I can't believe I'm here already!This is me after only one day of wedding planning.

Saturday was our first official day of searching for a wedding reception site. By the end of the day I had driven over 100 miles, been on the receiving end of The Look™ six times and been informed by no less than three reception site marketing weenies that money comes and goes, but marriages last a lifetime. The last was usually followed by, “So a loving husband, like yourself, would of course opt for the deluxe package for only [astronomically large sum of money] more.”

Proudly, I only went into cardiac arrest due to sticker shock once.

Sunday was more of the same, only we went to more places where I was either ignored completely or ‘subtly’ prodded to spend more money to prove my love. By the time Sunday night rolled around, I was so starved for any kind of social interaction regarding anything other than weddings and/or money that I actually called my mother and asked her to tell me about her weekend at the Stamping Convention.

Can you even begin to imagine how low I had sunk?

Yesterday, instead of doing anything constructive, like post something here, I sat around and played video games until my eyes bled and then I watched Ocean’s Eleven, The Matrix and Desperado on the VEHTS. I’m sorry I didn’t post anything, but sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to regain his masculinity. Tomorrow I’ll be back to top form and I might even write a song parody for the holidays, just like last year.

Anyone have any song suggestions?

And They’ll Be Thankful

• by GeekMan • In Experiments •   8

I was spoiled as a child.

I’ve decided that I’ll never spoil my kids the same way I was. That way they won’t turn out to be rotten and repulsive human beings like me. Instead of being babied and taken care of until they’re in their teens, I think I’ll make them go to work and start paying their own bills early on in life.

For example, I think they should get jobs at… oh, let’s say three years old.

When I was a kid, I didn’t have to work for my food. I was spoiled rotten, what with all the hamburgers, macaroni, soda and other crap that just magically appeared on the dinner table every night. Well, my little demon spawn won’t be spoiled like that, no sireebob! They’ll be too busy working in the coal mines as shovels to eat that rich people food. Their payment for a job well done will be licking the roof of their mouth clean every day to obtain sustenance from the natural nutrients found in coal dust.

If they’re lucky, on holidays and birthdays they’ll get a stone to suck on.

As a kid, I was never whipped or beaten either. Can you imagine how soft and simperingly wimpy I was? How frickin spoiled? Well, you can be sure that my child will grow up knowing that actions have consequences! Every night before they go to bed, they’ll receive a ritualistic beating administered by homeless men wearing Mardi Gras masks and wielding raw meat clubs. Then, just to make sure the lesson sinks in, they’ll receive one lash from the ‘Thank You Cane’ for every time they cry out in pain.

They’ll grow strong, like ox.

And can you believe that I was allowed my own bed as a kid? My own frickin bed?! That’s crazy! My kids will know the value of a good nights sleep and they won’t be spoiled by stupid things like soft pillows, sheets or mattresses either. Oh no, my kids will make their own beds from daddy’s leftover broken beer bottles and their pillows will be a couple of two-by-fours lashed together with twine. In the morning, they’ll take lemon-juice baths, using dry ice soap and rusty steel wool as a washcloth.

One day my kids will thank me. I just know it.

This Is Worth The Beating I’ll Receive Later

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit •   4

Last nights actual conversation as I finally join HoBiscuit in bed at 1:30am.

“Goodnight, Sweetie.”
“Hmmmm? GeekMan?”
“Yes?”
“Did you click the right option?”
“What?”
“We need… option, or we won’t work. Crash.”
[snicker] “Honey, are you sleeping?”
“I don’t know.”
“Go back to sleep, Honey. You’re not making any sense.”
“But I am sleeping. The frog’s email said so.”
“…”
“I think I’m dreaming.”
“Ribbit, ribbit.”
“That’s right.”
[HoBiscuit begins to snore lightly as GeekMan shakes uncontrollably with suppressed laughter.]

I think my girl’s been working too hard.

The Geek Needs You… Again

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   12

Today’s humor content can be found over at Big Pink Cookie.

As for me, I’m in need of some advice. I’m currently looking for the best music jukebox software for my PC and, since I’ve never used my computer for listening to music before, I’d like your input. The things I need sounded pretty simple to me, but after looking around the web I’m no longer so sure.

And that’s where you come in.

I want you to tell me which jukebox software you use and WHY you use it. I’m looking for software that will let me rip my WAV files to MP3s at 256kbps or better, have multiple play lists (jazz, rock, dance, etc.), keep track information (artist, title, album, year, BPM, etc.), NOT take over my computer, NOT install spyware and be inexpensive or free.

It should also do dishes and be willing to rub my feet.

Leave your suggestions in the comments below. I’ll tell you all my decision later this week because I know how anxious you get when I don’t tell you about every little thing that happens in my pathetic life.

Yeah mom, I’m talking to you.

Leftover Angst

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Rants •   5

I don’t like to eat leftovers.

To my male friends this is perfectly acceptable; to the lovely HoBiscuit however, this is a crime of such heinous proportions that flogging would be too good for me. She feels that if I cook a meal for the two of us and we don’t finish the entire thing in one setting, that we MUST save the leftovers and eat the exact same meal the following night.

Even if all that’s left over is one frickin taco.

It’s even worse when we go out to dinner. It’s gotten so bad that I’m actually frightened to ask her if she wants to eat out. It’s true! If I order some food and don’t finish everything on my plate HoBiscuit will give me *The Look™ and I’ll find myself quivering in a corner begging for forgiveness for the rest of the night.

*The Look™ is a skill passed down to women, from Mother to Daughter, ever since the first caveman pissed off the first cavewoman. The Look™ has one single use, and that is to put the FEAR OF GOD in any man or child who pisses off said woman. If you have never been the recipient of The Look™ then count yourself lucky and join a men only monastery before it’s too late.

I’m not kidding. It’s frickin scary.

Now, I don’t know exactly where it’s written, but somewhere within the Holy Books of Immaculate Foodology there must be a passage that says something like;

And spaketh He, “Ifith thou dost not cleaneth thy plate at every meal, whether it be at thine own table or upon the table of stranger or friend, thou shalt burn in the fiery pits of the netherworld and forevermore be forsaken from the gates of my kingdom.” So spaketh He, so it is written and so it shall be done.

Can I get an Amen?

Anywaste, we fight all the time about leftover food. I don’t like to eat it, no matter how artfully it’s concealed under sauces, cleverly mixed with other leftovers or shockingly re-spiced. Meanwhile HoBiscuit gets angry with me whenever I suggest eating out or ordering in if we have even one plastic container of leftover mystery meat. I’m scared to eat in my own home unless HoBiscuit gives my choice of food the nod. And now, she’s getting upset with me when I won’t make food decisions without her input due to my fear of The Look™. She’s beginning to think I’m a helpless moron, but I’m not. I just don’t feel safe eating anything anymore unless she tells me I can.

For some reason, that makes her even angrier.

Oh well, I guess this is all part of learning to live together and getting married. Fighting over leftovers will just be one of those things we’ll do as a couple that will drive us, and everyone around us, crazy. We’ll just have to learn to live with it. That reminds me, Honey? Can I make myself a sandwich for lunch, or should I eat the leftover taco first?

Call me, I’m hungry.

Gobble, Gobble

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News •   2

Save me the wishbone!

Happy Thanksgiving to all the Americans. Happy Chanukah to all my Jewish homeboys and girls. I’m off to the GeekMan Annual Strum Und Drang Family Gathering Of Infighting, Screeching, Insults And Other Assorted Schoolyard Drama.

Otherwise known as Thanksgiving dinner.

I don’t expect to post again until Monday, so in case I don’t see you, have a good one. Or two, or three, whatever the legal limit is for you to reach the ‘I’ve had so much to drink you could set my piss on fire’ level of inebriation.

Yeah, that good.

Why Doesn’t It Happen To Me?

• by GeekMan • In Breaking News, Geek Life, Rants •   1

I’ve got a headache this big, and it’s got Format C:\ written all over it.

So, since I had to rebuild my entire PC today, thanks to the amazingly comical-in-hindsight fiasco of yesterday, I decided it was about time to install and set up my wireless network, Wacom tablet, voice recognition software and soundcard (the fabulous Terratec DMX 6Fire 24/96 for those who will care) on my new computer. I’ve spent the entire day making sure everything was installed properly and running smoothly, taking great pains to hunt for and download all the latest drivers and software updates for everything I installed. Even though I was very careful and meticulous, I fully expected that something would go wrong.

But, miracle of miracles, nothing bad happened.

And now I’m really pissed off. My computer is running perfectly, the only signs of change being the brand new, front mounted, Terratec sound recording module and the Wacom tablet. I was fully expecting something to happen, something significantly horrible to warrant a scathingly satirical post here. Something that would allow me to write such a creatively funny and vindictive diatribe that somewhere in the world the software programmer of whatever was the object of my ire would spontaneously burst into flames at the exact moment I hit the ‘post’ button in Moveable Type. But now, as I sit here typing into my perfectly functional and completely non-crashing computer, only one thought is running through my head.

I have absolutely nothing funny to say today. This frickin sucks.

Note To Self

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Rants •   2

You are a frickin Moron.

When next you get the urge to install Sony Clie versions of the Palm desktop onto your computer at 11pm on a Sunday night, do your level best to resist the temptation. If you are unable to resist and you actually begin the installation process you will not be surprised to find that problems arise causing your computer to freeze and then refuse to boot. At that point in your horrid, sorry excuse for a life, you must try your frickin hardest to accept your own stupidity and simply turn off the computer and wait until a more reasonable hour to troubleshoot.

For example, 3:00 pm on Doomsday, the Day of Ultimate Judgment.

Whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not use Windows System Restore to try and save your Geeky anus. Especially at 1:30 in the morning the day before a very important conference call during which you abso-frickin-lutely know you will need to use your computer. Doing so will only lead to heartache and pain.

And cursing. Lord forbid we forget the cursing.

In conclusion, the next time HoBiscuit politely asks you to install something on the computer, think carefully before attempting to help her. Should you somehow find that you have inadvertently gone ahead and installed the Palm software, leading to the System Restore fiasco, and culminating in a frantic attempt to rebuild an entire computer’s software installation and preferences overnight, allow me, that is, you, to offer these last few words of advice.

Don’t be frickin stupid. Buying her a new Clie sure beats going to jail for murder.

Cue ‘Deep Thought’ Music

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life •   3

My life needs a sound track.

Wouldn’t it be really, really cool if, right after you say something particularly witty, a laugh track would play? You know, like in a sitcom? Just so everyone around you would know you had said something funny? Like when your girlfriend/fiancée/wife tells you she thinks she lost some weight and you say, “Turn around, I think I’ve found it.”? If there were a laugh track, you might not get hit so hard.

Well, at least when you did get hit someone would be laughing.

Or better yet, how about a personal theme song? Not the kind that follows you around or plays every time you enter a room, no. That would get annoying real fast. What I’m talking about is the kind of theme song that plays right after you say or do something that will undoubtedly lead you on some sort of wild adventure around the world. Or perhaps as a prelude to a mystery, international crisis, or a torrid love affair.

You know, something cool like in CSI or Amazing Race.

Imagine how much easier life would be if, right after saying, “I’ll study for that test tomorrow.” you heard your theme song start up. You’d know right then and there that some sort of mixup, leading to a misunderstanding about stolen test answers and culminating in a cross-dressing fiasco at the dean’s house party would be happening in your future. 9 times out of 10 you’d turn your sorry butt around and hit the books.

But man, that one time out of ten would be HELLA cool!

I Hate Laundry

• by GeekMan • In Geek Life, HoBiscuit, Rants •   9

Can anyone explain this to me?

When I was living alone, doing laundry was a simple task. Put all my clothes into a laundry bag, take said bag to the Laundromat and then pick them up the next day. Overnight, my laundry would be magically cleaned, fluffed and expertly folded so that the only thing I needed to do on my own was put them into the proper drawers in the dresser.

And then came HoBiscuit the Taskmaster.

Now, not only am I supposed to do my own laundry, but I have to do hers as well. And let me tell you understanding the finer points of washing sweaters ( ‘delicate’ cycle only, extra spin and then medium dry) versus delicates (‘gentle’ cycle, low dry) versus blouses (‘gentle’, hang dry) is enough to drive anyone mad. But what makes it even worse is that apparently my clothes don’t warrant such attention. The only excuse she seems willing to give me is that my clothes are somehow ‘stronger’ than hers when it comes to washing care.

Why her jeans need to be carefully and meticulously turned inside out before washing while mine are simply thrown into the washer as is, is beyond me.

But all of that is peanuts when you take into account the horrible affront to my clothings’ civil liberties that HoBiscuit enacts each and every laundry day. It is horrible, simply horrible. Do you know what she’s doing? She’s teaching me to segregate my laundry, you know, separate the colors from the whites? Wasn’t that made illegal with the thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution? I tried that argument with HoBiscuit, but she simply ignored me and went about her business telling me that I should stop my whining and grow up.

Well my friends, I have a Dream.

[begin Martin Luther King, Jr. voice]

I have a Dream.

I have a Dream that one day every Washer shall be exalted, every Bleach and Softener shall be made low, the Dryer Sheet will be made unnecessary, and the Single Loader will be made Double, and the glory of the Laundry shall be revealed, and all Fabrics shall see it together.

I have a Dream that one day, White clothing, and Dark Clothing, and clothes of all the colors of the rainbow can be washed together in peace and harmony.

This is my hope. This is the faith with which I return to the Doing Of Laundry. With this faith I will be able to hew out of the Mountain Of Dirty Clothes a Sock Of Hope. With this faith I will be able to transform the tattered remains of my favorite T-Shirt into a beautiful Sweater. With this faith I will be able to work, to pray, to struggle, and to stand up for righteousness, knowing that my clothes will be free one day.

That will be the day when all of Geek’s clothing will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My clothing, ’tis of thee, sweet clothes that are dirty, of thee I sing. Wash where my colors died, wash of the Snuggles pride, from every Cheer and Tide, let freedom ring.”

Let Freedom Ring!

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every Sit-N-Spin and every Wash-N-Go, from every Bubble Heaven and every Spot-Less, we will be able to speed up that day when all the world’s Clothing, black clothes and white clothes, silk and cotton, nylon and rayon, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Laundromat spiritual,

“Clean at last! Clean at last! Thank God Almighty, we are clean at last!”

[end Martin Luther King, Jr. voice]