What’s a Geek to do?
I want to Blog almost every day, but every day something new crops up that demands my attention and I need to put off updating my site for just a bit longer. It’s almost like a conspiracy. A massive government cover-up to thwart my every attempt to corrupt the minds of the world with my amazingly inane and pathetically un-humorous drivel.
I can just imagine what the secret meeting would be like.
“OK Dick, thanks for coming to my office.”
“What are we doing today Dubya?”
“Well Dick, it seems that GeekMan is trying to write another one of his silly little posts and we don’t want to let him do that. National Security and all that.”
“Why the hell not? He seems pretty harmless to me. He’s not even that funny.”
“No he’s not. But he’s not harmless, either. He tries to hide it, but we now know he’s really an agent working for the elite forces of the New Guinean National Bureau of Super-Duper Top Secrets. How else can you explain how he knew I was using Miss Cleo?”
“Ok, so what should we do? You want he should ‘disappear’?”
“Nothing like that. Let’s just keep him so busy that he can’t take the time to write anything.”
“OK, so I gather you want me to get him hired for work somewhere or have some of our ‘people’ show him some promising new apartments and then snatch them away at the last minute?”
“That sounds good. And also, you should make sure his girlfriend, the one he calls biscuit-something…”
“HoBiscuit, you moron.”
“HoBiscuit?”
“Yeah, HoBiscuit.”
“That’s a stupid name.”
“No worse than Dubya.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge, Dick.”
“Listen you idiot…”
“Whatever. Just make sure that his girl has a couple of really bad days at work so she can be cranky. That always makes him forget to post.”
“Ok. Fine. Is that all?”
“No, Dick. That is not all. I also think I should do another speech or something. You know, something about the evil people over there in Saudi Afghanistanabia. Or Al Kay-duh.”
“Yeah right, Dubya. As if anyone actually listens to you and your little speeches.”
“That’s enough out of you, Dick. I’m the President of the YOU-nited States of ‘Merica and you’d better listen to me or you’ll be in trouble.”
“I’ll listen when you can spell ‘President’ without a teleprompter.”
“You think you’re so smart. Let’s see you out-think the back of my hand you old, ugly sum-bitch.”
“Bring it on you dumb, monkey-looking daddy’s boy.”
“Don’t talk about my daddy!”
“Or what? You gonna call him and cry, sissy-boy?”
I don’t need my pappy for the likes of you, Dick!”
[Dubya slaps Dick]
“Your daddy’s not here to bail you out this time, Dubya!”
[Dick slaps Dubya]
“I’m calling my daddy!”
“I’ll kick his ass, too!”
[begin sissy slap-fight sequence]
Dear god, what has become of me? I promise, my next update will be more entertaining than dumping a bucketful of live prawns into your pants.
And who doesn’t love doing the Prawns-In-My-Pants Dance?
ah … dick and dubyah … you’re on their list *now* for sure. you have even have a check by your name.
Lichtenstein would have been funnier.
GeekMan? You’re fired! Due to the excellent unemployement benefits, you can now write all day long. Something Dubya didn’t anticipate.
Not very realistic… do you really think they let Dubya make any decisions on his own? C’mon! They probably don’t even let him go in the Oval Office unsupervised…only for photo shoots under Ari’s close supervision.