Friday, May 1, 2009

NERD SON AND FATHER: stereotyping, a history, an encounter

I made my way to the checkout line at my local Bloom grocery store, and much to my chagrin a nerd son and nerd father were in front of me.

I immediately identified the nerd family by looking at the nerd son. When I approached the line, a bag of grapes was being swiped across the beeping machine and into a bag. The nerd son immediately, and without hand-eye coordination, grabbed a handful of grapes and shoved them in his mouth, all while looking at the girl bagging them like, “Don’t tell my nerd father that I’m sneaking healthy food.” The nerd son was wearing jeans with a dress belt that fastened his pants securely onto his rib cage. His button down shirt tucked in. As mine eyes observed the nerd son a we bit more, I came to his face. He had glasses of course and a buzz cut. Wait…he turned around, and it appears to be a mullet. A buzz cut mullet. Our eyes locked and he knew he was guilty of being a nerd son. I imagine it is the same look he uses when he receives an A-.

I turned my attention to the nerd father. He was smiling and very pleased with life in general. His nerd attire matched his patented 1984 hair cut and glasses. Don’t be deceived. His looks in no way reflect the amount of nerd money he had in his pockets. As his nerd son continued to shove grapes in his nerd mouth, the father exclaimed, “Quit eating grapes!” Nerd son, frightened, turned around once again revealing his nerd mullet. The father was still smiling. “I just can’t stop this kid from eating healthy food,” he thought. I have never been yelled at for eating too healthy.

The cashier was having trouble processing the check and was looking for something. The nerd father, KNOWING what the cashier was looking for, rattled off a few numbers with a sinister grin on his face. Then with a, “HA! Beat you to it” look on his face, he said, “The state code. That’s what you’re looking for. It’s Utah.”

“Ultimate pwnage,” the nerd father thought to himself in his own nerd culture’s language. The cashier, enraged with his recent pwnage, regained his confidence when he asked me if I had a Bloom card, which I didn’t, and had to pay full price for my items.

The entire time the nerd father was smiling. I believe it is because his pockets were full of nerd money, and because he knew he didn’t have to worry about his son dating for a long time. This is why he raised him as a nerd son, and why he allowed the ultimate nerd mullet to adorn nerd son’s head. Also, he knew that his son would never get into trouble with his friends, because they were all make believe characters on a computer game. He also knew no matter what his nerd son did in the future, he too would have vast amounts of nerd money. He literally has no worries.

And without even knowing it, we have all been pwned by the nerd father’s wisdom.

please feel free to share your nerd thoughts, stereotypes, and encounters

Sunday, April 5, 2009

How to: Pee Your Pants in 1st Grade

I remember it very well. I was just a child in first grade. I was a cool kid. I spent my first grade years impressing women with my strength by lifting their desks, constructing log cabins with pretzels on construction paper and being an unstoppable force in checkers. I had it all.

That day I had to pee. So pee I did. I raised my hand like any upstanding gentleman and asked my teacher if I could go to the bathroom. She said, and I quote, “No.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I have never heard the word “No.” I was undefeated in checkers, maybe she didn’t know. I knew I had to pee. I had to pee so bad my knees were shaking. I could barely focus on my math speed drills.

The teacher in all of her unstoppable, tyrannical power had already said “No.” There was no changing her mind. She knew what she was doing. She couldn’t wait to tell kids no so they could pee their pants. Despicable. I was panicking now. Contemplating peeing in my pants. Would the other kids see the pee stain in my khakis? Yes. It is very obvious when khakis have been peed in. I looked down, and let it go. It was such a relief. But after those sweet and glorious 30 seconds were over I was left with a puddle in my pants and a giant wet spot.

Time passed and my teacher came up to me and whispered in my ear, “Why didn’t you tell me it was an emergency?” Really, teach? Has a first grader ever had to pee without it being an emergency? Of course not. I was in the early stages of procrastination. I waited to the last minute to do things, including asking to pee. So when I had to pee, I had to pee. She tried to get me to wear some extra pants she had in the room. Forget it teach, your time of redemption is over. You will look at my pee pants, and you will remember this day for all of time. And also I hope some got on your floor and that you have to smell it when it dries.

I devised a clever plan to get me out of the room without the other kids noticing. I walked straight towards the chalkboard and was standing inches away from it pretending to read as I shuffled over towards my backpack. Once I got my backpack I wore it in the front. In addition to checkers champion, I was also a trend setter. An impressive resume. I walked through the halls with what could now be considered a frontpack and my grandma picked me up from school. I got to her house where I had a set of “play” clothes to wear. I changed into the dry pants. As I was stepping out of the door to go play, my grandma picked up my pee pants and said, “Kyle, why are your pants wet!?” I ran out the door without an explanation and satisfied that only my teacher and my grandma were in the know. It was a good day.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

February 10th I moved into my friends townhouse so I could be closer to my internship. I am currently sleeping on a couch for two months. I have a space heater pointed next to me because there's no heat, my pants are hanging on a curtain rod in the kitchen, my shirts are hanging above a trash can in a closet downstairs and the rest of my clothes are on shelves in the bathroom or on the floor somewhere.

Every morning I wake up, take a shower, get my pants from the kitchen, get dressed, make 2 identical peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, place them in a brown bag, turn off my heater and walk to my car. It is always cold so I sit there a minute…wake up, and repeat.

I head straight towards traffic like a fat guy towards a donut. I devour traffic and submerse myself in it. After an hour of almost slamming into the back of cars, I arrive at Ft. Myer military base. I pull up to gate, get out of my car, open every car door, my hood, my trunk and they search my car and mess my crap up. I come to work at the USO of Metropolitan Washington. I do some stuff like type this story. Everyone thinks I am homeless because I eat 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day and sleep on a couch.

At 5pm a military bugler plays his bugle, and somewhere in the middle of his song, a giant canon fires and makes me jump. This is my cue to leave. I go to traffic. When I get back to my couch, where a Newt Gingrich cutout hovers over me, I wait for Joe. We then go to Metro Diner where we have been eating for free for two months on coupons that were supposed to be for thousands of people. We took them from a basketball game. They love us.

Recently I sat four rows from the stage of the Kid’s Inaugural Concert featuring Miley Cyrus, the Jonas Brothers, and some other people I cant remember. I am not proud of it, but I did it…and it was fun. There are some pics.

Also, here is a video of my roommates and my current house. It was actually a piece on the DL Hughley show on CNN. A crew came and filmed it, etc. I was at work so Im not in it. The shower you see is where I now shower, and the couch the black lady is sitting on is where I lay my head every night. Enjoy.