Paper beats rock and diaper

I love everything about my son.

Everything but his butt-hole.

I know I’m not the first father to complain about his kid pooping. Kids poop. Fathers complain about it. It’s the circle of life.

But I adulted up and did what I had to do. Pretty soon changing diapers became just another thing I did. Like paying taxes, but slightly less demoralizing.

Potty training became a priority once he started talking. I didn’t mind cleaning up after him, but I didn’t like him asking questions while I did so.

I must not have done much research though. It turns out even after they start doing their business on the potty chair, you’re still in charge of paperwork. And now they’re talking better so they’ve moved on from asking questions to criticizing your technique .

But now, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, fiddler of fiddlers (I think that’s how the song goes), he’s started wiping himself! I know that I only get 5 exclamations point a year, but this is totally worth using one.

Now granted, he doesn’t have the decades of wiping experience that I have, so he just goes with what feels right. I can respect that, but what feel right appears to be all of the toilet paper. He must figure, if there’s that much butt stuff there, he must be supposed to use it.

And of course, he can remember every time I ever said he could have a cookie but didn’t give him one but he can’t remember to flush so basically every time I walk into my son’s bathroom it looks like a mummy took a dump in there instead of a three-year-old.

And of course, buried under this massive wad of toilet paper is a couple of the smallest, most well behaved poops I’ve ever seen this kid produce. Where were those during diaper time?

So now - for the most part, there are still times he forgets - my waste management responsibilities have been reduced to flushing up afterwards and occasionally chasing a giggling, pantsless kid with a fist full of toilet paper.

It’s been nice.

So that’s where I am. There’s a light at the end of this long stinky tunnel.

I just hope I can make it before he turns 10. Neither of us want that.

Be so prepared your butt hurts

There’s a reason I always have a spoon and camera in my backpack.

I’m an Eagle Scout. I’m legally obligated to always be prepared.

In my case, I’ve just decided to be prepared for coming across a supermodel stuck under 400 pounds of pudding.

This isn’t the only fortuitous event I’m totally ready for. So far in my late night adventures in the Lost Temple of the Dumpster behind Walmart, I’ve never come across a lamp, ring or day-old donut with a genie contractually required to give me anything my heart desires, but just incase it does happen and there is some sort of time limit involved, I already know what I will wish for.

I want a baseball bat that makes people smarter on contact.

Think how liberating it would be be arguing with some moron, be obviously winning, get to the point where all he’s doing is drawing verbal wieners on your well-crafted arguments and then WHAM instant agreement.

Oh, I’m getting nerd-chills just thinking about it.

This is the reason I want my Louisville Slugger of Discourse, I’m a nerd and nerds will argue about anything. Not just anything, the dumbest kind of anything.

Here are some actual arguments, that I’ve had with people: Who is the best Star Trek Captain? Which Indiana Jones movie is the best? Could the Green Lantern summon green food, like Jello maybe? Who is the dumbest Backstreet Boy?  What color is this truck? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you see the light was green? Do you wanna fight punk? Do I look fat in this?

I think you’re starting to see what I have to put up with.

I would never go anywhere without that thing. I would harness it’s power to usher in a new golden age for mankind. It would be my Excalibur. My Mjolner. Or my Linus’s Blanket.

Now I just need some way to make it work through the Internet.

Crapknuckles, I probably could have wished for that.

Regular Shenanigans Resume on Thursday

I’m posting this on a day other than Thursday night because this isn’t really a Geek Beat, or a Farting at Geese or whatever I end up calling this. This is just something I saw today that’s had me thinking all day.

Obviously a large portion of my thoughts today have been on the bombings in Boston. I’m sure many of yours were as well. This combined with the tragedy in Newtown, the tensions in North Korea or whatever else the news has to throw at us can be pretty overwhelming. It seems like the world if full of people whose actions, for whatever reason, have turned this world into a dark and scary place.

This had me in a less happy place than I was hoping to be today. Until I saw a quote on a blog that I check out from time to time from Mr. Rodgers (a personal favorite person of mine).

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

That’s some powerful mothering right there.

And it’s true. In every story we read about some horrible thing someone did, you’ll see people doing incredible things. Police, firefighters, Red Cross volunteers, random strangers. It doesn’t matter how terrifying something is, it is nothing compared to the bravery, compassion and charity that will spring from the tragedy.

There will always be people whose actions, for very good reasons, have turned this world into a much better place.

The power of good is in too many people for me to get too worried.

We’re going to be OK.

Ducking is good advice; Goosing is sexual harrassment

I am a torn and conflicted man.

I live in a self created world of lies built upon contrast and a bed of confusion.

I’m a walking contradiction on a lonely road to becoming a basket case.

I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I’m not even sure of when. And yet, it’s just the way I am.

I love ducks, but I hate geese.

Now I’m sure some of you who grew up more than a mile away from the nearest tetanus hazard are probably thinking “Hey Steve, aren’t geese, just a kind of duck that somehow got crossed with a balloon animal?”

If only it were that simple.

I don’t know exactly how to explain this, but ducks are a proud and noble bird. One that is an example of true fidelity, outsmarts countless men with guns every year and somehow - despite their lack of opposable thumbs - always manages to put their recyclables in the proper bin.

Geese, on the other hand, drop turds all over any grass they encounter, push all the buttons when they get off an elevator and I’m pretty sure all that honking they do translates into some pretty racist stuff.

Plus there’s just something about an animal that bites that hard and has a head at the exact level as my junk that makes me really nervous.

Oh and don’t get me started on swans. Those guys think they should get all the bread. Listen buddy, you may have been an ugly duckling, but you’re even uglier now, on the inside.

So I’m thinking of renaming my blog. I don’t talk about geeky stuff as often as I used to and I’ve played enough Rock Band to prove once and for all that I don’t have the beat. I’m thinking something along the lines of “High Fiving Ducks” or “Farting at Geese” or something classy like “SwansAreDicks.com”.

Let me know what you think.

That part isn’t a joke, I really want a new domain and would really like feedback.

6 things you should never say to me

None of these will be about flabby butts, I promise.

Chances are, you have someone in your life you love, but can’t help thinking about them and using words like “nerd” or “geek” or “dork” or “numbnuts.”

These people could be a family member or a dear friend who’s just seen a bit more Ninja Turtles than an adult should have. Whatever the case may be, I’m here to help. Here are six things you should never say to a geek.

I just don’t get Star Wars. No you don’t, and you never will, because you’re stupid. You probably don’t know Luke Skywalker from Han Solo.

All these Pokemon/Doctor Whos look the same to me. Remember just now, when I said you were stupid? This is why. You think a red fire breathing lizard and a yellow electric mouse look the same. Or worse, Tom Baker and David Tennent.

I love Star Wars. No you don’t. I love Star Wars. Don’t think you can bond with me just because you saw the movies a couple times and you know the difference between Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. Get real.

Will you fix my computer? What kind of thing is this to ask someone. Just because a person has a skill you think they should use it for your benefit? You make me sick.

Wow, you must really like ___. You can put whatever you want in that blank. Just because I like something, doesn’t mean I want to talk about it. You probably wouldn’t be interested anyways.

Will you teach me about computers. No way Jose. Computers are how I make my living. I’m not going to show you how the trick is done just so you can take jobs away from hard working nerds.

*End Scene*

And so people don’t go all “Modest Proposal” on me, this was satire. I won’t get mad if you say any of these things to me. Heck, I’d be glad if you said anything to me. There’s a good chance I like you.

You see articles like this on the Net all the time though. Just yesterday I read one directed at one group of people and a couple week ago I read one from the other side. They both expressed the exact same fears and insecurities, and even had some of the same “things not to say.”

These people should have been friends, instead they did nothing but stir up animosity through the Internet.

Seriously people, grow the fetch up.

Don’t make the same mistake I just did of listing off things people can say to you that will unknowingly piss you off. Don’t setup and emotional minefield around yourself and arch your back and hiss like a cat whenever someone slightly different than you comes around. We’re all people. Heck, we’re all losers who spend way too much time looking at pictures of a walrus and a bucket. We should really be looking for things to bring us together, not rip us apart.

Life is too hard without adding problems to it. Give people the benefit of the doubt, they just might return the favor.

Wow, that was the most serious I’ve been in a while. Next week, flabby butt jokes return, I promise.

Oh, and yes, I am happy to try to fix your computer.

Just make sure you delete your porn first.