I Need A Haircut

GeekMan is sitting in front of the TV in his underwear playing Unreal Championship. He’s not doing very well and is spending more time cursing the screen as he waits to re-spawn than he is actually playing. Bread enters the room.

“Hey, Bub.”
Aaaargh!
“Man, you suck.”
“Sigh. What do you want Bread?”
“Nothing really. I was just wondering if you’re feeling depressed or something?”
“Uh, no. No more than usual, why?”
“Well, me and the girls are a little worried about you. You ain’t been yourself lately.”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, we’ve all noticed that you’ve been taking longer and longer showers, but you haven’t shaved in over a week.”
“Listen, I’ve told you a thousand times to knock before coming in! And I was… uh, washing my privates, nothing else. I just like to be really, really thorough, is all.”
“Riiiiight. ‘Washing’ your privates. And I guess all that moaning was your reenactment of the ‘Herbal Essence’ commercials, huh?”
“…”
*snicker*
“I really hate you sometimes.”
“Well, forget the showers for now. What about the lack of shaving?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I just haven’t felt like shaving lately. I wanted to see what I would look like with a beard.”
“So you want to look like a Neanderthal with the plague?”
“It’s not that bad!”
“Listen to me, you putz. It looks like the roadkill remains of a black badger with Atopic Dermatitis has been stapled to your face.”
“Really?”
“Really, really. And your hair is even worse. When’s the last time you had a haircut?”
“Uh… I don’t know. Maybe last year?”
“And it hasn’t occurred to you that maybe, just maybe you should get it cut? Unless, of course, you enjoy scaring small children at the mall or being mistaken for a dark-haired Yahoo Serious?”
“Egad! I look like a two-bit, Aussie, washed-up-before-he-ever-got-started actor?”
“Not really, no.”
“Whew! You had me scared for a minute there.”
“You remember what Harrison Ford looked like in ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’?”
“I look like Indiana Jones?”
“No. You make Yahoo look like Indiana Jones.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“So, you’re saying I need a haircut?”
“And a shave. Don’t forget that.”
“OK. Damn, I didn’t think it was that bad. I guess I should go to the barbershop then.”
“Damn straight, you should.”
“Right. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Wow, worse than Yahoo. Man, I’m ugly…”

[GeekMan leaves room]

“Hey, Sugah?”
“Yeah, Miss Ex-Boxx?”
“That was real nice of you. I never would have guessed you would care enough about GeekMan to look out for his personal appearance.”
“Are you frickin kidding me? I just wanted to be able to play Unreal Championship. That schmuck’s been playing it for three days straight and I haven’t even touched the damn game yet. At this rate he might actually stand a chance against me when we play against each other on Saturday!”
“Ah.”
“Damn right, ‘Ah’.”
“Bread, you’re one rotten loaf. You know that?”
“You know it, toots. Even got ‘NASTY’ tattooed on my ass. Wanna see?”
“No.”
“Then quit your yappin and load up my ‘Geek Killa’ character so’s I can frag me some virtual losers. I got a reputation to protect!”

Annoy The Geek Day

Sunday was one of those days.

It started out innocently enough, HoBiscuit and I were going to visit the GeekMom, GeekGrandparents and then check on the Ho-Parents house, since they’re away on vacation for three weeks. And, even though it was a cold and rainy day and we didn’t really want to go; we got up early in the morning to pick up MotherGeek. Of course, being the Geek that I am, I knew that my day would involve at least one person I saw demanding that I ‘fix’ something before it was over.

What I didn’t expect was everyone to ask me to fix everything.

GrandmaGeek greeted us at the door with the heartwarming phrase, “That stupid man. He’s driving me crazy!” Quickly followed by the traditional Geek welcome of, “GeekMan, you need to look at the computer…” This soon degenerated into a screaming match between Grandma and GrandpaGeek as they blamed each other for ‘breaking’ the computer. Of course, their idea of a broken computer meant that the shortcut to Mahjong had disappeared and they hadn’t been able to play it in the last 12 hours.

Tragedy.

After ‘fixing’ the computer, I was offered a frozen steak as a reward and then asked to fix their radio, fire alarm, answering machine and telephone. When they began asking if I thought the couch might look better on the other side of the room I grabbed HoBiscuit and MotherGeek and beat a hasty retreat. Just as we were leaving however, GeekMom informed HoBiscuit and I that we just had to visit a friend of hers before we went to HoBiscuits parents house.

That’s when this giant vein on the right side of my forehead began throbbing.

On the way to MotherGeek friends’ house Mom explained a little problem she was having with her cell phone and asked me to take a look at it. Well, by ‘asked me to take a look at it’ I really mean she demanded I fix her phone right then and there, while I was driving and before we got to her friends house.

Throb. Throb.

When we got to her friends’ house we were invited inside under the pretense of seeing her new kitten. And, as if she were the lead in a really bad high school play, she “suddenly” remembered a few computer questions she had conveniently written down on three, legal-paper-sized, college-ruled pieces of paper.

THROB. THROB.

After managing to escape that sub-basement of the lower regions of Hell, HoBiscuit and I drove through almost two hours of traffic to her parents’ house. On the way there, I received two phone calls for tech support from my Uncle and one from a friend. Seeing my growing distress HoBiscuit suggested we stop off at a local Worst Buy and pick up some CD-Rs that were on sale. As we were paying for the CD-Rs I had to explain to the cashier how to scan in the coupons so we would get the proper discount!

Throb. Throb.

Finally, HoBiscuit and I reach her parents house where she needs to check the mail and water the plants. Just as we walk in the door HoBiscuit turns to me and sheepishly asks that I look at her parent’s computer because it’s been giving them some problems lately. And, just as my throbbing vein was about to burst from my skull and drench her with my life’s blood as I collapsed to the floor in a convulsing heap, she kisses me and says,

“You’re the best, most patient and loveable man in the whole wide world. I love you.”

Oh sure, I knew it was a ploy to get me to fix her parent’s computer without getting angry at her. And I also knew that it meant the computer was probably FUBARed and it would take me hours to fix as I sat in their ice-cold home wondering if both my testicles would freeze solid, or just the weaker one as they fought for the squatting rights to my body’s gonad cavity. I knew all this and yet I still found myself smiling back at her and agreeing to fix the computer no matter how long it took or how cold I was. And do you know why everyone treats me this way and why I always find myself fixing things for people no matter how annoying inconvenient or time consuming it might be for me?

That’s right. Because I’m stupid, that’s why.

THROB. THROB.

Happy, Happy. Frag, Frag.

Note to self: Remember to shower

Two weeks ago I went to my local video game store and reserved a copy of what will most surely become the abso-frickin-lutely best video game of the year. It’s got guns, huge landscapes, blood, gore and even internet enabled, voice activated insults.

That’s right fellow Geeks, I’m getting Unreal Championship.

Miss Ex-Boxx is all hot & bothered and literally moaning in anticipation of having this game filling her slot. My handwritten note of challenge has been accepted by Bread and we’ve cleared our calendars for the next two to four months. So we won’t be bothered by mundane things such as working, eating, sleeping or paying attention to HoBiscuit while we slaughter each other in virtual mayhem.

Unless HoBiscuit’s wearing that cute little outfit I like so much. Rowr!

Of course, nothing will stop me from updating this site, so you don’t need to write me hundreds of thousands of “Where are you? Please update or I’ll die!” emails. I’ve got my priorities straight; I know what I have to do to keep you happy. And no matter what, I plan on doing my best to make you happy. So, without further ado, here’s some guy eating pussy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to frag some friends. Boo-Yah!

Ending The Toilet War

What is it with women and toilet seats?

Why is it so hard for women to understand that men pee standing up? Don’t they realize that if the seat is down that a man must make the effort to pick the seat up before he can relieve himself? The extra 3 seconds that takes can be crucial to proper bladder release. The basic law of gravity makes it clear that it takes less energy to put something down than pick it up, so I can only conclude that women are selfish and unreasonable when it comes to toilet etiquette.

But I have a solution.

I propose that from this day forward men and women must put both the toilet seat and the toilet cover down after every use. This will end the war once and for all while also having three clearly beneficial results.

  1. Regardless of whom makes the stinky, closing the lid will help contain the smell while being flushed. Men, you are allowed 30 seconds in which to admire the size, shape, construction and possible weight of that spectacular anal bomb you just burst a vein forcibly expulsing from your sphincter. If said poo is truly noteworthy, you are allowed one picture to show friends and family at reunions, family gatherings and the like.
  2. Everyone will now need to lift at least one item before they can actually use the toilet. Women and men will thus be on equal footing and further arguments will be avoided.
  3. Closing the lid will help cure the universally disgusting affliction of, Oops! I just dropped the ______ in the toilet! syndrome. Finally, bathroom items such as toothbrushes, soap, razors, eyeglasses, books, lipstick and such will be safe from a death worse than fate. Drowning in a pool of rancid water as a human looks down pondering whether the item is worth getting their hands dirty to retrieve or would flushing solve the problem. What a horrible way to go.

In conclusion, from this day forward, I decree that all toilets in the world must be lidded when not in use. Anyone found breaking this law will suffer the consequences, which have not yet been determined but will be suitably nasty enough that merely mentioning them will result screams of terror, or at least a momentary loss of bladder control.

Oh, and here’s a picture of some naked Boobies.

No Ordinary Wednesday

I’m not dead, yet.

It has come to my attention, through various IM chats, email with my virtual friends, and the tumbling tumbleweeds rolling through my server logs, that I’m not famous. No, no, don’t look so shocked. I know it might come as a surprise to some of you, but trust me when I tell you that it’s true nonetheless.

I know, I know. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Anywaste, after talking it over with some people this morning, and thinking about it for a few hours this afternoon, I have finally come to understand what it would take for me to become a bigwig blog-type person. So, without further ado, here’s a list of what I need to do;

  • Write shorter entries
  • Post pictures of naked Boobies
  • Write more angry diatribes about unimportant minutia
  • Upload pictures of Breasts
  • Open up and tell people more about me
  • Show some Cleavage
  • Let Bread speak more often
  • Show really big Knockers in tight-fitting, wet t-shirts
  • Accept that I will not be funny all the time
  • Take pictures of small, fist-sized Boobs with erect, pencil-eraser-sized nipples and post them
  • Turn gay, or at least bi, and write about my sordid sex life
  • Boobies, Boobies, Boobies, Boobies!

Now, while I don’t have Boobies to take pictures of, or a sordid sex life to talk about, I think I might manage the other things on the list. Like making shorter entries, letting myself get angry and accepting the fact that I won’t always be funny. Like the time I peed in my friend’s pool and told everyone that the areas of warm water were due to global warming.

Sure, it’s funny now.

So, beginning tomorrow you will see a slowly evolving GeekMan website here. I’ll write shorter entries, try to reveal a little more about myself, and even do some ranting, bitching and moaning via Bread. Not everything I write will be explicitly for laughs anymore, but it will all be at least tongue-in-cheek. Things I won’t do are curse, discuss work (due to NDAs), or turn gay. Not even bi. HoBiscuit would not be amused. However, I will see what I can do about that Boobie thing.

Because, you know, they’re Boobies.

Dealing With The Devil

I really hate Micro$oft.

I was hoping to avoid using Micro$oft products as much as possible with my new computer, but today I had to crumble and purchase Office XP in order to secure some work coming up in December. It’s not that I have anything against Micro$oft per say, it’s just that I have this allergic reaction to the covert collection and dissemination of my personal and private information without my permission by large, faceless, big-brother type corporations via invasive ‘product registration’.

Makes me break out in hives, it does.

Anywaste, after doing a quick search online, I found that the cheapest price for Office XP Standard was around $390. I paid $350, thanks to a discount, and should receive my copy of this thinly disguised attack on my private information and personal identity tomorrow. To me, the price isn’t too unreasonable especially since I make a living using this stuff, but ever since the economy started spiraling down the toilet I’ve noticed that a lot of people are trying to save money however they can.

So I’m going to offer the world some free advice.

When you next order a computer do not have it pre-loaded with Micro$oft Office. Instead, try OpenOffice.org’s office suite, which is free, and see if you can live with it instead. As someone who is a power user of Micro$oft Office, I can honestly say that I didn’t miss a thing when I used OOO’s version of Word, Outlook and Excel and I doubt anyone would really notice the difference after only a single week of use. If it weren’t for the fact that my clients depend on PowerPoint slideshows for their meetings, I probably wouldn’t have ever even thought about buying Office again, so I heartily recommend the OOO product.

But wait, there’s more.

You see, hypothetically speaking, if someone were to discover that they absolutely, positively, needed to have Office in order to live, then I would still say to them, do not get Office pre-installed. Instead, still hypothetically speaking of course, go to your local software shop and purchase the Student version of Office. Now, I would never do such a thing myself because that would be ‘wrong’ and ‘deceitful’, but I have heard whispers of other, less virtuous, Geeks who have done this very thing. These scandalous characters have let it be known throughout all of Geekdom that the Student version of Office is the same full featured set of applications one gets when purchasing Office Standard, but at a massively discounted price of only $130.

Makes one wonder why Standard costs so much, no?

I’ve Lost My Tiny, Little Mind

I think I need help.

As I was walking down the street this afternoon, going to Gamespot to pre-order Unreal Championship, I tripped and fell down. Yeah, yeah. Bread asked the requisite, “Did you have a nice trip?” Followed by the inevitable, “See you next Fall!” I glared, he guffawed and the world continued to turn on its axis so the law of gravity could find its next victim.

I curse thee, Issac Newton. Curse.

Anywaste, the act of falling down in public is nothing new to one as Geeky as I, but what I thought to myself as I got up does help illustrate just how low this Geek has sunk. You see, as I got up and dusted myself off the only thought running through my puny skull was, “Ctrl+Z”.

Yeah, I wanted to undo my fall.

How weird is that? But then, that’s not even the worst part. You see, immediately after thinking about undo-ing my fall, I realized how silly it was. That I couldn’t undo something that happened outside of the computer in the real world. So I got up and, just as I was going to continue my walk and without realizing the irony, I thought to myself, “Guess I better ‘Ctrl+S’ before I crash again.”

Man, I think I need a shrink specializing in looney Geeks.

The New Deal

Not being a great follower of the political climate in Washington DC, I still managed to summon the energy to do my civic duty and even managed to suppress my gag reflex long enough to watch the election coverage on my brand-spanking new digital cable enabled TV.

Oh yeah, 346 channels and TechTV. Geek Heaven, indeed.

Anywaste, I have my political beliefs and I’ve found through the years that although I sometimes agree with one party or the other on certain issues, neither party really reflects the totality of my political beliefs. It’s been irking me for some time now that there doesn’t really seem to be a political party that truly cares about what’s best for common Americans living their daily lives first, and then the big corporations and foreign governments, in that order.

And so I’m introducing a brand new political party. The Geek Party!

The Geek Party is a brand new political party and as such, we recognize the need to explain what we stand for to our small, but growing, constituency. Below are just a few of the key issues facing the people of America today and our proposed solutions.

  • The official symbol of the Geek Party is the Scorpion. We’re nice enough when left alone, but piss us off and we’ll sting you to death and then make a nest in your empty eye socket.
  • The Geek Party believes in edjumication, because the future depends on our chill’in bein smahtah den da udder chill’in of da whorld. That’s why we support corporate sponsored schools, because although the government might not be able to pay our teachers the salaries they deserve or create smaller classes for our children, we all know deep-pocketed and morally ambiguous corporations can. Drink Coke.
  • We also believe people should support themselves after retirement because lord knows Social Security is a crock of poo. That’s why, when elected to office, our party members will put forth the ‘Cut ’em Loose’ bill. In essence, this bill states that anyone born before December 31, 1950 will receive Social Security, but those born after that date are on their own and get no help from the government. Don’t come crying to us, moron. You’re the one who didn’t save for the future.
  • We recognize that most Americans hate taxes, but we also know that without taxes we wont get rich paid. Which is why we promise that we will introduce legislation that will abolish taxes. That’s right, no more taxes, ever. That’s because we’ll be changing the name from ‘taxes’ to ‘Mandatory Government Donations’. MGDs will begin at a nationwide flat rate of 45% with a 2% increase every three years until reaching the maximum of 85%. Their are no exemptions or write-offs for anyone earning more than $250K a year and we believe that Bill Gates’ MGD alone will pay off the nations debt. See? Everybody wins.
  • The Geek Party understands that small businesses are the heart of the American economy because they drive innovation and create new jobs. This is why we promise to regulate the crap out of any company with more than 500 employees and/or generating more than $1 billion a year. The first new law; upper management only gets paid if the company turns a profit. Period. Second law; all middle managers are to be publicly executed by rubber-band-gun wielding mailroom clerks and then chopped up and fed to the homeless.
  • The Geek Party is against the departments of Defense and the Office of Homeland Security as they are now known and wishes to disband those offices and create a new, improved department for dealing with the defense of America. This new office will be known as the Department of Retaliation and Annexation. It would be the DRAs goal to kick the ass of any country or group who ever threatens the US or our interests and then take over that country or group and rule with an iron fist. The DRA’s first order of business would be to annex Canada and Mexico, rename them Hockey and Greater Texas respectively and then turn their attention towards the Middle East. It is our belief that after seeing what we’re willing to do to our allies and neighbors, those countries with a ‘beef’ against America will be properly frightened and do their very best not to piss us off. If that doesn’t work, we’ll simply send some Bloggers out there and let them decimate the countryside with their vitriolic verbosity. Pack your bags Michele and Sekimori, your country needs you.
  • We acknowledge that health care in this country is horribly ineffective, so we will introduce bills to abolish the current health care system and create a brand new system in its place. First, any drug that treats the symptoms of a disease or illness must be made freely available to any and all patients, free of charge. Only those drugs or treatments that actively cure the disease or illness may be charged for by the drug companies. Secondly; all doctors must perform a certain number of free procedures or do a certain number of hours of community health service a year based on their yearly income. This is mandatory, so suck it up, Mr. Fancy Doctor with the brand new Porsche.
  • The Geek Party also believes in saving the environment, which is why we will invest heavily in the space program. The sooner we build a space station or moon base and get all the humans off this planet, the better. Right, Mister Bigglesworth? Riiiiight.

If a specific issue that’s close to your heart hasn’t been addressed by the preceding list of the most common issues facing American voters, then please write us and we’ll do our best to ignore your question and entice you to donate to our party anyway. If you wish to join our new party then leave us a comment and a small donation of 33,529,999,999.75 Romania Lei via PayPal and we’ll be happy to keep the money.

Thank you for your support.

At Least I Tried

“Hello.”
“Hi. My name is GeekMan and I’m calling to find out some information about hosting a wedding at your facilities.”
“Certainly, Miss GeekMan. And congratulations. What would you like to know?”
“Uh, my name is GeekMan. I’m not a miss, I’m a mister.”
“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, sir. For a moment there you sounded like a… Ah, what I meant to say is that I’ve been dealing with women all morning and I just went on autopilot there for a moment. Ha. Ha.”
[Dr. Evil voice] “Riiiiiight.”
“Ahem, so, how can I help you, sir?”
“I’d like to know how many people you can accommodate, the estimated price per person and whether you’re available on [date] next year.”
“…”
“Hello?”
“Yes, I’m still here. I was just wondering, are you sure you’re not a girl?”
“What?”
“Well, it’s just that the guys usually avoid this tedious task of calling around to get the price lists of reception sites.”
“So?”
“And, well… You really sound like a woman.”
“I do not! I’ll have you know I have a very manly voice. It’s just this cheap phone…”
“So you don’t really sound as nasal and whiny in person?”
“Whiny?!? Nasal?!? I do not whine!”
“See? Right there. That was a definite whine.”
“Was not!”
“Yes, it was. Now tell the truth, you’re a lesbian couple, aren’t you?”
“No! I’m a man and I’m marrying my fiance! Now stop with the insults and tell me your prices so I can turn you down and hang up already.”
“You’re really not a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Swear?”
“Yeah, I swear. I’m not a girl. I’m a guy, with a really big penis, ok?”
“…”
“Oh for crying out loud. Now what?”
“Have you ever seen ‘My Cousin Vinny’?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You sounded just like the woman from that movie. You know, ‘My biological clock is ticking like this…’?”
“Marisa Tomei?”
“Yeah! Her! You sounded just like her. All nasal and stuff.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“She’s awesome. I loved that movie. Come on, say that line. Say it.”
“I will do no such thing, you wacko!”
“Oooo! I love the Sopranos! Tell me you’re gonna whack somebody. Do it!”
“Listen, I just called to get the price list. If that’s inconvenient right now, I could always call again after you’ve seen a shrink or something.”
“Now you’re Woody Allen! You’re great!”
“No! I’m not doing impersonations! I just want the frickin price list, you psychopathic woman!”
“You want the price list?”
“Yes!”
“No price list until you do De Niro.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You want the list, I want De Niro.”
“That… That’s blackmail!”
“Whatever. Come on, say something like De Niro does in Analyze This.”
“This is crazy…”
“Come on! Ooo! I know! Do that line from Taxi Driver!”
[hangs up phone]
“Hello? Hello?”
“Did he hang up?”
“Yep.”
“Not bad. Three minutes and 28 seconds, the longest time a guy’s put up with your crap. He must have really needed this price list.”
“Ha! I bet he gets into deep crapola with his fiance for not getting our price list.”
“Poor schmuck.”
“Yeah, I almost feel sorry for him.”
[both together] “ALMOST!”
“Hahahahahahahahaha!”

Your Honor, I Can Explain

The life of a Geek is never normal.

Let me give you an example. Saturday night a whole bunch of friends came over to visit HoBiscuit and I in our new apartment for the very first time. We had food and drink and a massive X-Box Halo bloodfest. By the end of the night there was a whole lot of garbage that needed to be disposed of, including the battered and bloody egos of some of my friends when Bread showed up unannounced and trashed us all using only the wimpy Needler. It wasn’t until everyone had left that I remembered garbage collection day was not until Tuesday night! That meant I would have to hold on to the three large & smelly bags of trash for three whole days before I could throw them away.

This was absolutely unacceptable to the dainty and cleanly HoBiscuit.

In a fit of devilishly clever brilliance my sweet woman not only devised a method of throwing out the trash on our non-trash day, but also figured out how to do it without getting her own hands dirty in the process.

“Honey?”
“Yes, my sweet HoBiscuit?”
“Are you going to bed now?”
“Well, seeing as how I’m in my pajamas in our completely dark bedroom and lying next to you in our soft & warm bed, I would think the answer is obvious.”
“Aren’t you afraid that the garbage will attract bugs?”
“There’s not much I can do about it right now, sweetie. It’s not our garbage night.”
“…”
“…”
“Honey?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you the Man?”
“…”
“Well?”
“I’m wondering if my answer will improve my chances of getting lucky tonight.”
“That all depends on your answer.”
“I see.”
“So, are you the Man?”
“With the understanding that I know I’m digging a hole for myself, even if I don’t know exactly how yet, I have to say ‘yes’. I am the Man. Why?”
“Because real men take out the garbage.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen of the court, explains why I was wandering the streets at four AM on a Sunday morning in the rain, wearing nothing but my pajamas, holding three giant-sized, black trash bags and cursing my ‘Ho’. Now, if it will please the court, I would like to take a moment to pound these shards of broken glass into my own gonads using a rubber mallet while chanting “I Am Not The Man” to the tune of the Lumberjack Song.

I am not the Man
And that’s OK
I treat her right
Till I go insane…