I was once known to repeat the word Asslips over and over again.

I got nothing.

;-)

I watch and enjoy both "American Idol" and "Smallville," a fact that at times fills me with self-loathing.

I remember the show "Misfits of Science."

I used to wear boat shoes with no socks and rolled up the cuffs on my jeans.

Members Only jackets? I coveted one, but never realized my goal.

My D&D character was a halfling.

I used to wear boat shoes with no socks and rolled up the cuffs on my jeans.

Ha ha. Loser.

Oh, wait...are we laughing at people or being supportive?

As for me, I'm personally most ashamed of the fact that I am once again letting myself get all worked up about an upcoming Star Wars movie. I was able to keep my cool until about a week ago. Now, six days out, I'm going insane. When will I learn?

I guess I could also mention getting into a lightsaber fight last weekend with my wife at a nearby Borders and breaking one of the lightsabers...

I'm 5'10" so I never learned how to walk in heels. My ankles twist and turn and people laugh.

All my pants were flood pants.

I out-dorked Ben Stein on his quiz show.

I guess I could also mention getting into a lightsaber fight last weekend with my wife at a nearby Borders and breaking one of the lightsabers...

I think the dorkiest thing I ever did (I really hate to even think about it) - was to sing a song from Annie in my middle school talent show. I wore ALL GREEN (who dressed me? I don't know.) As if this isn't bad enough, I lived, and went to school that year, in Detroit. It was the HEIGHT of Michael Jackson's "Off the WAll" frenzy. I was -maybe one of two white kids in my whole school. And, there I was, dressed all in green, singing "The Sun Will Come out Tomorrow." There, You have it.

I killed a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

Back around 1980, I had a haircut like Bert Convy.

I once had a first date where I spent the evening wowing the girl with my graceful, passionate dance moves. When we were walking back to the car at the end of the night, I slipped on the sidewalk and broke my leg.

Bob...I'm with you on the Star Wars thing.

I already bought tickets, for crying out loud. I hate Lucas for doing this to me.

Can I also tell the dorkiest thing my bil ever did? lol, Ray Midge reminded me. Once, when he was drunk and picking up on a friend - he told her that he once had to kill a man (while in was in the army- supposedly stationed in S. America.) LOL. My hubby and I still chuckle about that (since, at this point, he had never served in active combat). Of course - right now he's in Baghdad.

I love stage and movie musicals (not that there's anything wrong with that) especially old ones from the beginning of movies to the early 60's.

How much more embarassing can that be for a straight, conservative Catholic?

I remember the show "Misfits of Science."

I read this blog.

Not only do I write a blog, I read this one.

I was in the marching band. (But I never played D&D)

I still like Milli Vanilli and Journey.

I wore my high school letteman's jacket into my second year of college (purple jacket)

Rather than considering myself "dorky", I instead like to think of myself as a "renaissance man".

1) I enjoyed the four-part A&E showing of "Pride and Prejudice" so much that I bought the DVD set and watch it once or twice a year.
2) When I was thirteen or fourteen, I went on a romance-novel binge when I found out that the "bodice ripper" ones had a lot more sex than the Harlequin ones.
3) When I was little, my mom not only dressed me in plaid pants, a yellow shirt, and powder-blue blazer...she took a picture of me in this freakshow getup and sent copies to the rest of the family.
4) At one time I thought The Superfriends was the greatest cartoon ever. (Even in those dark days, however, I still thought the Wonder Twins were dumb.)
5) I voted for Bill Clinton not once, but twice. (Although I have somewhat redeemed myself by voting for W. twice as well.)
6) I own the Gordon Lightfood CD called Gord's Gold and have been known to listen to it when I have the blues.

...and the list just goes on and on.

The more of these I read, the more I realize that I was not just a dork, I was an uber-dork.

I was in marching band.

I like musicals.

I have never, though, once uttered the phrase "let's kick bunny." That's got to count for something.

I suffer from Richard Nixon-like paranoia and refuse to treat it. I also quoted a "millie and vanilli" song in my high-school yearbook (Girl I'm going miss you). The horror. I've done other things too...like lip sych in front of 500 students as a GDI in a university-sponsored talent show...and no, I didn't lip sych millie and vanilli.

Monty, I'll match your plaid pants and raise your powder-blue blazer to a maroon one. I think the picture is still on the wall in my mom's house.

I only voted for Clinton once, so you beat me there. However, when I was ten years old I did shake hands with Ted Kennedy.

I jerked off to Miss Piggy and my mom caught me.

PS: I let Rush tell me what to do because I'm a stupid fascist dittohead. Hail Bush@!!!!

Once got snookered into playing with some guys I didn't know and a chick singer guys at a private party in the Hamptons, unbeknownst to me they had not rehearsed and we sucked so bad they actually paid us to pack up and leave!

Ken and I made the same dorky joke at the exact same time.

I jerked off to Miss Piggy and my mom caught me.

Glenn, can I post this on your website?

I once got busy in a burger king bathroom...

6) I own the Gordon Lightfood CD called Gord's Gold and have been known to listen to it when I have the blues.

Oh no.

Do you live in the Great Lakes area? Do you feel everyone in the Great Lakes area should be familiar with Gordon Lightfoot's "Ella Fitzgerald" song? If you find people that live in the Great Lakes and are not familiar with that song, do you loan them your "Gord's Gold" CD and make them listen to it?

None of this applies to me of course, but I was victimized by such a person. This same person also one day hysterically told me that they'd found out there was a Gord's Gold 2 and they had ordered it and would have it any day now! Then they gave me updates until it came and told me how great it was once they had it. The funny part is the stupid thing came out in 1988 and it took them until the mid-1990s to find out about it. I guess "Gord" fans are a little slow on the uptake, eh?

I once threw up on a stripper during a lap dance. I can quote the movie Top Gun practically start to finish. I have Journey's greatest hits in my car. I wore heavy metal band tshirts in junior high, until they got banned. Fun times

Does it count if you're so dorky that you don't realize that you should by embarrassed the dorky things you do instead of just calling it another Saturday's night entertainment?

Confessions? I made a dorky post making fun of Ace being a dork. I thought it was funny - but it was dorky. I tried to use Paint like P'shop and I will never be an artist. I thought Ace would get a kick out of it but it just pissed him off until he forgot about it and started giving me links again. It was relegated to a draft post way back when and you can't find it unless you know the link.

More ammo for my enemies to use to mock me with:

1) I was only only a D&D player in the 1980's, I was actually a Dungeon Master and had several binders full of dungeons I designed myself.
2) I actually canceled a date in high school because I didn't have enough money both for the date and a computer game I wanted. (You can see the bind I was in.)
3) In the third grade, I paid Rose M. twenty-five cents to see her underwear and was too timid to complain when she welshed and stole my quarter.
4) In the fourth grade, Ramona S. beat me up because I wouldn't fight back. (Oddly -- or sadly -- enough, she was also the first girl I dated when I got to Jr. High. And she never apologized for beating me up.)
5) Old Yeller made me cry.

There. I said it. I said it and I'm glad.

In jr high school I entered a breakdancing competition with a friend. It took place outside of a shoe store.

I wore a headband and one of the two parachute pants I'd bought at Chess King earlier that year.

And we lost.

Oh, the horror.

I was always too cool to get involved in this dorky shit all you guys chuckle over, but that bit me in the ass a few times.

I was on the HS yearbook staff ( sports editor, the straight guy gig) and I thought it was such a pose to list all your activities beneath your yearbook picture. So I refused to fill out the form, being the anti-BMOC poser I was.

So the guy compiling the page looked and said, "That ain't right. I know he's on Yearbook." so he lists that alone beneath my senior photo. That's even though I was in track and tennis and a lot of music and drama stuff.

Anyway, it looked pretty stupid and taught me a lesson about posing.

Maybe this post is a dorky a thing as I've done in a while.

PS: I let Rush tell me what to do because I'm a stupid fascist dittohead. Hail Bush@!!!!

It's "Heil, Bush". What kind of fascist dittohead are you anyway? Oh, that's right, a stupid one.

When Karioke clubs first came out, I tried to sing a song only to find that they had raised the key by at least three whole notes higher! And to make it worse I tried gamely to hit the notes!!!

Wow. I think Monty's in the lead.

I got nothin' to compete with the date versus computer game thing.

at May said:

Do you feel everyone in the Great Lakes area should be familiar with Gordon Lightfoot's "Ella Fitzgerald" song?

I'm no Lightpodiatrist, but I think it's the "Edmund Fitzgerald."

Uhhh.... That's "Edmund Fitzgerald" Jackass.

Scott from Grand rapids, MI

Glen, was Miss Piggy a hand puppet?

The song is called "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald", and it is indeed on the "Gord's Gold" CD. It refers to a real-life incident on Lake Superior (?) where an iron-ore hauler broke up and sank in heavy weather with the loss of all hands. I prefer Gord's rendition of "Don Quixote", however: just the right amount of literary frisson coupled with pseudo-hippy folk music.

Hondo didn't do that last one; I did. Not sure why his name showed up....

When nobody else is around... I still sometimes listen to The Cure.

As for dorky events from my youth... ugh. I'd rather just let the painful memories stay buried. :)

Ella Fitzergerald, Edmund Fitzgerald, whatever...

It's all a bunch of Gordon Lightfoot hippie crap to me.

all this outpouring demands a haiku/flame thread

Faux-Hondo saith:

The song is called "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald", and it is indeed on the "Gord's Gold" CD. It refers to a real-life incident on Lake Superior (?) where an iron-ore hauler broke up and sank in heavy weather with the loss of all hands. I prefer Gord's rendition of "Don Quixote", however: just the right amount of literary frisson coupled with pseudo-hippy folk music.

Please note that I didn't write this.

I would never use the word "frisson." Except for right there in the previous sentence.

I once paid actual, American money to see Gordon Lightfoot in concert.

The first group I ever saw live was Air Supply. I hated Air Supply, but I was trying to impress a girl who thought Air Supply was really neat.

I hereby declare my new name to be "Faux-Hondo". That is the coolest alias I have ever heard.

My Terrible Burden: A Haiku

For a while in sixth
grade I carried a cardboard
square to break dance on

Ok, more seriously, and more dorky (kinda):

!. Mullet. In H.S, I saw some sax player in a Pink Floyd (i think) video sportin short top/long back and said 'must have.' In my defense, this before I'd seen anyone else with one, and it wasn't any sort of 'thing' then. I seriously believe I may have been the first, at least in MI. Also, it looked fantastic on me.

2. Also in H.S., for a few, all too public months, I was loudly certain 'Huey Lewis and the News' were just the hard rockin, rockinest bastards and were gonna change music as we knew it. Absolutely change everything. I was mistaken.

3. Adult Dork. For several weeks, I was way, way into Everquest. Getting bout 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night on worknights. Got over it (to the point of haven't played in years) but not before I made the mistake of discussing it at work with friends, trying to convice them to join up with me and my dark elf necromancer on a certain server. Deserved everything I got over that.

utron:

The first group I ever saw live was Air Supply. I hated Air Supply, but I was trying to impress a girl who thought Air Supply was really neat.

Amateur. I once paid for four tickets to see...wait for it...Donny Osmond! My girlfriend at her parents were Mormons and thus big fans, and we were all at some ski resort near Salt Lake City where he was playing. I had to leave about a half-hour after the show started; I just couldn't take it any more. I complained of an upset stomach (which wasn't entirely a lie) and went back to the room and watched Bullitt on television. So in essence I paid almost two hundred bucks to watch a butchered-for-television version of Buillitt. Which was still better than watching Donny Osmond sing.

I used to own a "Captain and Tenille" album. My girlfriend gave it to me. So I guess the dorky part is having a girlfriend dorky enough to give her boyfriend a Captain and Tenille album.

ultron:

but I was trying to impress a girl

I not only watched but vastly enjoyed Hee Haw.

MC - I made a dorky post making fun of Ace being a dork. I thought it was funny ... but it just pissed him off...

ACE has no sense of humor when it comes to ACE. It is funny!

My first concert? Shawn Cassidy!

Monty wins

I:

have read all of the Hardy Boys books. (and a couple of Nancy Drews)

wore a WHITE leisure suit with pearl SNAPS.

once forgot I was in a crowded theater and shouted "Wowwee! What a cool car!" when a Stingray Corvette appeared onscreen. (Best part of the film, for everyone else) (I think the movie was Corvette Summer or something)

used to read encyclopedias, for FUN.

I once paid for four tickets to see...wait for it...Donny Osmond!

Not bad, Monty, but I think I can beat it. When I was... oh, 17 or 18, a friend and I drove to San Francisco, where we were determined to have a wild time. We hadn't actually checked to see if anything was happening, because San Francisco's always exciting, right?

It turned out there was nothing going on, except at clubs we were too young to get into. The only event we could get tickets for was a Barry Manilow concert in Concord. So, to make a long story short, I drove 800 miles to see Barry Manilow.

I read Fark and Something Awful (and this crapblog).

Regularly.

that's about it.

oh, and I like a few Neil Diamond songs

I don't know if you should count things like mullets and breakdancing.

Mullets in the 1980s were a cool hairstyle. It was not something the local dorks would have. The dorks usually had short hair, or the out-of-style, all-one-length, 1970s-type long hair. A lot of the cool kids had long hair in back, with shorter sides that were feathered back. And they were not called "mullets" (or "neckwarmers" or anything else like that) back then.

Breakdancers were also cool, at least in my school. They'd often draw large crowds of admiring onlookers while doing their thing. It was seen as a cool skill that only some people had mastered, so even kids who couldn't do it well or hadn't even tried still admired the ones that were good at it and would take risks.

Obviously mullets are considered very dorky to have now. Breakdancing, well, I wouldn't say it's dorky as much as you just don't really see it anymore, so I guess it's more played out.

I guess when I think of dorky things, I think of things that were dorky even for their own time. D&D has pretty much always been a dork thing, as has sci-fi obsessions, etc. And Gordon Lightfoot is eternally dorky. And cancelling a date to buy a computer game? Priceless!

Had a bumper sticker that read "This isn't a Dungeon. This is an underground defense installation!" on the back of my 10 year old Volvo.

Had a wardrobe from Chess King, including a grey denim acid washed trench coat.

Just recently bought the Britney Spears music video dvd.

Owned three members only jackets, one black, one white, and one leather.

I had a sex dream about Ace, except it wasn't Ace, but some cool chunky bearded guy who I wound up with, and Ace finally showed up, and he was some skinny guy with a beard and with some Asian chick. That's the truth. And he got an award of some kind, which was why I was waiting for him. Ok, it was a dream.

I once posted my fair share on American Idol's website after Latoya got voted off... not my proudest moment.

I cried when I spilled grape juice on my Millenium Falcon.

Own the official scripts for Episodes IV thru VI as well as a $70 Darth Vader helmet.

First live concert was Nsync.... (god I can't believe I just typed that)

And it took me 45 minutes to get down the begginer hill first (and last) time I went skiing.

Open season....

At the time Doctor Who went off the air in the late '80s, I had seen every extant episode. (Some old episodes have since been discovered, but I have not seen them. I have been downloading the new series every Saturday night.)

Not only did I play D&D, but a half-dozen other RPGs - Gamma World, Traveller, Twilight 2000, Champions, Villains and Vigilantes, Paranoia, and others.

I started reading comic books because of my Champions and V&V gaming. This led to a 15 year long comic book addiction, at the height of which I was spending $30 a week on comics.

I once got busy in a burger king bathroom...

with yourself?

My fiancee and I are very excited that the new Harry Potter book will be out in time for our honeymoon.

We'll each have our own copy.

Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew and Barbara Cartland.

Just recently bought the Britney Spears music video dvd.

please tell me there was nudity

First live concert was Nsync.... (god I can't believe I just typed that)

wow, that's even better

At college I saw this guy on a motorcycle with his girlfriend on the back smoothly bump the curb and hop over it onto the sidewalk to park. Since I had my girlfriend on the back of my motorcycle at the time, I thought I'd try to impress her and do the same. But I hit it sideways and way too hard and it sent us both tumbling into the air to the derisive catcalls and laughter of many of my fellow students.

In high school, I didn't know what a dildo was. I raised my hand in class and asked my biology teacher.

there are several other stories like this...oh, the things I learned in college!

Almost forgot: I quoted Genesis in my High School yearbook. (The band, not the book.)

I can recite from memory the lyrics for every song from Amy Grant's "Heart in Motion."

And I will sing them upon request.

I married the Dusty girl though I knew she was a slut, and she ran off with a tatooed felon who looked like Harvey Keitel in TAXI.

I'm embarrassed that tink didn't recognize my lyrics.

One of my embarrassing *years* was that for all of 4th grade I wasn't allowed to eat lunch with the rest of the school b/c I would regularly beat the shit out of my classmates.

Nice guy I was.

I have multiple copies of the entire Dune series, the movies, and both Sci-Fi channel mini series.

Lord of the Rings? I have multiple copies of the books, the old cartoons, and extended and theatrical versions of the movies, and the BBC radio production cd collection.

I believe I still have character sheets from the days of Star Wars RPG.

I own and use three computers. I built all of them on my kitchen table.

I saw all four episodes of the most obscure sci-fi series in history on the Sci-Fi channel and would totally buy them on DVD. It's a damn shame they cancelled The Phoenix before I was around to appreciate it.

I was addicted to Days of Our Lives for more than a year in high school. I recorded it daily and refused to hang out with my friends after school until after I had gone home and watched Marlena and John.

Once participated on a thread about zombies with a bunch of other dorks.......

Oh. Wait.

Aaah, the highschool yearbook quotes - I think I threw a "Silverchair" reference in there somewhere (maybe two). Those are always good for a laugh... what was everyone's little horoscope in that? Mine was "Will most likely become a wild man" - whatever the hell that meant.

I....... um set the old gonads on fire. well not exactly but they were burning in the middle of a class in college. I still shudder everytime I think of it. All in the name of being cool. I directly linked to it in my URL in this comment. I wrote on it as embarrassing as it might be. Nothing like setting the nads on fire to make you appreciate them.

One time I was installing some Dart 2.02 heads on a 383 stroker mill, and I under-torqued the #3 and #6 bolts by 15 pounds. Man, I don't think I'll ever live that one down!

Okay, I whacked off to Endless Love.

/making shit up now that being a freaking dork is somehow cool

Oh yeah.... Cried when I finished reading Return of the King.

Maybe not "dorky", but certainly something most would consider a tad "pathetic".

You stroked and did an undertorque on a 15 pound man-Dart, iowahawk?

that's not dorky, that's just teh ghey

I dunno -- I can't say that stuff like breakdancing back in the 80's was "dorky" because lots of cool people were doing it then. Breakdancing now is dorky (or cool in a very retro kind of way -- I'm out of step with the whole cool/not-cool thing, in case you hadn't noticed). Ditto parachute pants, Members Only jackets, and so on.

Being a dork means having "YOU MONG!" shouts echoing in your ears as you scuttle through the hallways between classes. It's high-water pants, bad haircuts, no car, and a dumb food-service job. It's being too fat, too skinny, too pimply, too tall, too short, or some variant of all the above. It means knowing the names of all the Star Trek crews in both the original series and TNG, and having an opinion on whether Picard or Kirk was the better captain (Kirk, by a mile).

When you think about it, being a dork meant having to be a pretty interesting person -- even if "interesting" meant bizarre, eccentric, or even kind of scary. Dorks had to have full inner lives and vivid imaginations. Some of us went on to well-adjusted adulthood; others went on to live in their parents' basements; still others became serial killers.

All part of life's rich pageant.

utron

The only event we could get tickets for was a Barry Manilow concert in Concord. So, to make a long story short, I drove 800 miles to see Barry Manilow.

I actually chose to go see Barry Manilow and took the train 100 miles to do so!

I saw all four episodes of the most obscure sci-fi series in history on the Sci-Fi channel and would totally buy them on DVD. It's a damn shame they cancelled The Phoenix before I was around to appreciate it.

Justin,

I'm guessing you'd be down with 50 classic Sci-Fi movies for $20.

ACE has no sense of humor when it comes to ACE. It is funny!

Sfs - He must have had something akin to humor to post that D&D movie.

I still can't quite understand why "Lightning Bolt!!!" hasn't reached mythical status in blogdom - I mean I still think "Lightning Bolt!!!" every few days and spew my coffee. Oops - guess that's another confession.

oh, now i remember something.

when I first went to public school my mom bought me shoes from payless.

I felt dorky.

ultron:

but I was trying to impress a girl

So much folly explained in so few words.
=======================
Actually, this is a much more interesting subject.. what dorky and outlandish things have you guys done trying to impress the opposite sex? What happened afterwards?

Wait a minute.. is this is that one website with all of the pimply D&D sci fi choads? I guess I'd have to say "posting here."

(psst, MC, that's not really ace.)

sponge-

i think we've moved beyond "dork" stuff into just general funny/embarrasing things, which is much better

sometimes i think i miss half the stuff on this blog b/c i know nothing about dungeons and dragons....which is probably a good thing

"sometimes i think i miss half the stuff on this blog"

you're not alone, brak.

When I was a junior in high school I had a boyfriend who was 20. One night we went to a horrible movie with some friends, (Less Than Zero, I think) but ditched it halfway through to go parking.
We weren't even kissing or anything, we were holding hands and listening to a Grateful Dead song. One of the modern crappy ones, I don't remember which.
The cops showed up. My boyfriend had updated the registration on his car by merely taking the old plates off his Galaxy and putting them on his Mustang and notifying no one.
So he got arrested, the cops made me stand around forever in the fricken bitter cold waiting for the tow truck to come, then they took me to the police station and had me call my mother.

At 1am in the morning. And she refused to come pick me up until I told her the entire course of events on the phone first.

I heard from our friends later that we were smart to have left the movie. It sucked.

Marching band. High school and college.

Thought it would be funny for me and a bunch of my drunk frat brothers to protest a decision by the president of the university by taking a leak in his front yard and singing a song.

Yes. I was arrested. I was wrong about thinking it would be funny.

Thought I could do a cool jump-kick manuever while playing a lead part. Dropped the guitar (and from then on used only Dunlop Straplocks).

wonders which one of you goobers will make a "strap-on" joke with that parenthetical remark?

And Old Yeller still makes me cry.

'hawk, I'd be shocked if you could even torque it to 15 lbs.

Dweeb.

Warden: I just had a series of flashbacks. I haven't thought of the Hercules movies in years. Hercules Against the Moonmen was great.

I won't consider my life fulfilled until I have that collection.

Traveling on business, I boarded a plane at the last minute, started reading a book, ignored all announcements, and didn't realize anything was amiss until I got off the plane and found myself in a terminal I had never seen before. It's kinda awkward to ask a total stranger in an airport what city you're in. And then to desperately beg for help at the American Airlines ticket counter because you flew to the wrong place.

Things we do for love...

I once, with my guitar, sang outside a girl's window.

It worked out for the best, as we're now married, but she never lets me forget how stupid I was.

Oh:
-Very tight white corduroys with a plaid flannel shirt
-Pulling your hair back with giant hairclips with big fabric bows on them
-finding a folded, tied bandanna on the steps and realizing it must have slipped from a freshman's ankle
-Long hair that is so feathered back, it makes a feather butt on the back of your head

(psst, MC, that's not really ace.)

Not really Ace? OMG - I am so crushed. Crushed I tell you...

I married wretched refuse even though he weighed 300 lbs, had a Body-by-Pillsbury and sucked in bed, so I ran off with a tatooed felon who looked like Harvey Keitel in TAXI who became a dot.com billionare and we live in our own paradise in Aruba where he me rings my bell every night.

I won't consider my life fulfilled until I have that collection.

Well the price is certainly right.

This one time I totally got fooled into fucking a horse.

On a more serious note, when I was in college I dated a high school girl for a while. It's still somewhat embarassing, but I don't regret it, because this girl was a real whore.

Seriously dirty.

God, that was fun.

For unstated reasons no one f'd with me in high school or college though they must have behind my back for liking bubble gum music like the Bee Gees and Bay City Rollers. Still do which explains my purchase of Ashley Simpson's cd. f'm.

Slublog- that's not stupid, that is sweet.

I had a guy try to impress me by mimicing that scene in Cocktails (with Tom Cruise) where he dances around, thows bottles up in the air while making drinks....and he threw a bottle up in the air, landed right across his nose, and spent the rest of the evening in the emergency room.

Thanks, tinkerbelle.

The "stupid" part is that it was February.

I live in Maine.

The things we do for love?

Well, I don't know if it counts, but...

One time in HS I was sitting in pre-Calc Algebra mooning over a pretty girl who sat nearby. Her name was Rochelle, and she was quite the beauty. I was having one of those daydreams that all dorks have, where I am the gallant suitor who has somehow overcome her resistance to my total lack of looks and she consents to all kinds of dirty dirty stuff, all in the name of thanking me for my heroic deeds. Needless to say, I was sporting some pretty heroic wood.

Anyhow, some a-hole on the other side of me catches me mooning at Rochelle, and further sees that I am shifting uncofortably in my seat due to the condition I mentioned above. He took it upon himself to announce loudly to the class that Monty was ogling Rochelle and furthermore was sporting wood.

Taunts, laughter, hot-faced shame...ah, the memories.

I was on of those weird girls in high school who played D&D. I also was in the orchestra ... viola. Well I had a crush on this other dorky guy (i thought he was so cool he built his own computer way back in 1980) but alas nothing came of it. with the dork factor neither of us really could figure out what to do. Fast forward today ... dorky d&d guy is a left wing moonbat who has written "plays" about why we should not be involved in the Iraq war. thank goodness nothing happened I would be able to live myself if i had given "it" up to him.

I was more of a bystander on this one, so I don't know if it counts.

I was at a bar once with a friend who was seriously into bodybuilding. A woman approached us, and since it was very quickly apparent that she had the usual vulgar fixation on toned guys with huge bulgy muscles, so I figured my friend was set for the evening. She kept commenting on his physique, so he jokingly offered to arm-wrestle her. After a few seconds of hilarious grunts and groans on his part, his upper arm snapped. It sounded like someone had broken a broomstick in two; you could hear the noise the length of the bar.

After he got out of the hospital, my friend told me he'd been trying to impress her by tensing his muscles as hard as he could. Essentially, he'd strained so hard that he broke his own arm. Reason #187 not to get too serious about bodybuilding.

And no, he never saw the woman again.

hobgoblin:

when I first went to public school my mom bought me shoes from payless

Alessandra:

what dorky and outlandish things have you guys done trying to impress the opposite sex?

What happened afterwards?

You want soul-crushing rejection?

One year, I was dumped on my birthday.

Over the phone.

I'm not a dork! My mom thinks I am cool!!!

Slublog:

That sucks. I hate to admit this, but I did pretty much that exact thing to a girlfriend. Argh. If you want to hate me on her behalf, feel free; I deserve it for that.

Yeah, the payless thing mystifies me too.
But then, I always went to public school.

Change your name to snobgoblin.

Monty:

Ouch.

This was back in hs, I had been dating this girl several months and wanted to drive over and hang out at her house. It started snowing pretty hard and my mom refused to let me have the car, so I took matters into my own hands. I walked 8 miles in 4-5 inches of snow to get to her house. I don't remember how many hours it took, but about a half an hour after I get there, my older sister shows up and drags me home. I showed them.

After a few seconds of hilarious grunts and groans on his part, his upper arm snapped. It sounded like someone had broken a broomstick in two; you could hear the noise the length of the bar.

After he got out of the hospital, my friend told me he'd been trying to impress her by tensing his muscles as hard as he could. Essentially, he'd strained so hard that he broke his own arm. Reason #187 not to get too serious about bodybuilding.

Wow, that's hilarious. So let me get this straight: He could easily have won, but he was pretending it was a struggle so he could show off his muscles by flexing them as hard as possible, and he broke his own arm? Ha ha ha, that has to be the funniest one yet!

There must have been something wrong with his arm for that to happen. I don't care how serious you get about bodybuilding, you're generally not going to build muscles strong enough to snap your own bones! Was he taking some serious steroids or something? Or was he on asthma medication (which can make bones weak)?

Slu:
You want soul-crushing rejection?

One year, I was dumped on my birthday.

Over the phone.
==================
Ouch, I've had some of those too (although not on bday, but it's just as crushing) :-(

laura and Kevin,

Junior High, having never gone to school with anyone in the building, coming in with what amount to plastic white high tops is simply an invitation for teasing.

snob? dunno

sure I'm an elitist, (and I do enjoy quality, tho price is irrelevant), but when you're in 9th grade, it's nothing to do with snobbery and everythign to do with finding a chink in the armor.

I still don't buy shoes at payless, but I do get them on sale at the department store. couldn't care less about what brand (except hiking boots and workout shoes)

Bob, so far as I know steroids and/or asthma medication weren't involved. I grant you it sounds pretty implausible, but I was sitting two feet away when it happened.

All that I can figure is the tension caused by straining his guns combined with the torsion of arm wrestling in exactly the wrong way, just for a second. According to his doctor, similar accidents (fractures where flexing overdeveloped muscles is a contributing factor) are freakish, but not unknown.

Best friend comes out of class looking like someone just kicked his kitten.

Me: "What up?"
BF: "Karen, the girl I really like, has a boyfriend."
Me: "How did you find this out?"
BF: "I saw her writting on her desk so after class I went over and read it."
Me:"So who is her boyfriend?"
BF:"Some guy named Robin Zander."
Me:"You idiot, that's the lead singer of Cheap Trick!"

Hey, sometimes you have no choice but to dump somebody over the phone. Like this one girlfriend I had, who I was planning to dump, nicely, and in person. She called me on the phone and for some reason wanted to make all sorts of plans for the future. She just kept pushing and pushing until finally I said, no, we're not going to be doing any of these things together. Then of course she wanted to know why not, so I had to sadly inform her that our relationship had come to an end.

I had already decided to break up with her before but we had a concert we were going to, so I toughed it out for a few weeks, pretending everything was OK, so we could enjoy that one last thing together. But it was pretty horrible experience, and I couldn't risk getting caught in that situation again with her.

I own two Ace-of-Spades t-shirts.

it's nothing to do with snobbery and everythign to do with finding a chink in the armor.

Yeah, but you should still change your name to "snobgoblin". That is a totally cool name.

Quoth utron:

All that I can figure is the tension caused by straining his guns combined with the torsion of arm wrestling in exactly the wrong way, just for a second. According to his doctor, similar accidents (fractures where flexing overdeveloped muscles is a contributing factor) are freakish, but not unknown.

I had a buddy who broke his humerus while pitching baseball.

That last one was me.

When I was in college, this guy asked me out, so we went on a date. Then second date comes around, he shows up with another car. I just figured he took his Dad's car for some reason. Third date, another car... by this date, I was like, this can't be what I am thinking this might be... is it possible this guy is trying to impress me by coming each time with a different car his family owns? I didn't want to ask and if it was another reason, have the guy think I was thinking he was a dork. But it was true, he admitted with a little embarassment awhile later after we found out there wasn't much compatibility. His parents owned 6 cars and he was planning to show them off each time :-)

He was a nice guy though, very sociable. He started dating this very dainty, well-manered, thin girl shortly afterwards. I remember them sitting next to each other at this party, he would talk, she would just sit there, and wouldn't open her mouth, except for some polite thank you, prim smile. They got married and I lost touch. A couple of years ago I met them again and found out they had had a very nice marriage which continues. The funny thing is that the quiet, sweet girl blossomed into a VERY bossy wife, mid-level corporate exec, a complete reverse of the young couple persona.

OK, hobgoblin, I'm with ya.

No way in Hell ws my mother going to spend the money on skin tight designer jeans that I'd grow out of in two weeks...she got us the pants we'd grow into, nice and baggy. I had to apply a belt and the fabric puckered all around me.
Not cool. I never heard the end of it from the other kids whose parents had money to spend on that kind of thing.

I once, with my guitar, sang outside a girl's window.

Slublog, that is so NOT dorky. It is probably the entire reason she married you.

Ok, ya'll are the dorkiest bunch EVER. I have been racking my brain trying to think of a dorky thing I did. Now I have done stupid things. I have done dangerous things. But the only thing I can think of that comes close to dorky is one time in college I was out with friends and a guy I had a crush on joined us. I REALLY REALLY wanted to make out with him THAT night, but I didn't want him to think I was ..you know...aggressive or anything ( I was a good girl , you know) So I pretended to be drunk so I could "be agressive" and then I had an excuse the next day to say "ohhhh, I cannot believe I did that! I never do things like that. I never come on to guys and kiss them when we aren't even out on a date! It was the alcohol I tell you!!!!!"

Oh well...it worked anyway.....;-)

RWS:
"Oh well...it worked anyway.....;-)"

And in February, in Maine, it was major falsetto singing :-)

I have bought several shoes at Payless... ah the horror of poverty... :-)

Fat Kid and I once got busy in a Berger King bathroom.

I also have two Ace of Spades t-shirts. And I pretty much bought em to impress the chicks.

And in February, in Maine, it was major falsetto singing :-)

I'm a tenor, so it's really hard to tell the difference sometimes. But damn, it was cold.

Went on a job interview and nearly tripped when I saw the guy who would be my boss, he was so drop-dead gorgeous and attractive, I couldn't say anything hardly, I had the feeling I had walked into a movie set by mistake.

So the interview is rolling along, emotions convulsing inside me, my brain was fuzzy, and when he said.. So, next question...

I thought, "When do we get married?"

*that* is the question! :-) who cares about the f'n company...

Needless to say I did not get the job, he probably sensed there was something seriously wrong with this candidate...

I voted for George McGovern and Jimmy Carter. My cheeks burn with shame.

I also have two Ace of Spades t-shirts. And I pretty much bought em to impress the chicks. Dave in Texas

Wow Dave in Texas! And I thought marrying a tramp like the Dusty girl and having her run of with a tatooed felon who looked like Harvey Keitel in Taxi and who later became a dot.com billionarare who lives with her in their paradise in Aruba and rings her bell very night was lame and humilitiating, but this?

So around the age of 20 I'm riding a chairlift somewhere in Colorado (I don't remember the resort) next to the hottest woman I had ever gotten with fifty feet of. I'm making conversation and trying to sound cool, thinking that maybe she will actually ski down the slope with me.

Yup, I botched the dismount, probably because I was weak in the knees due to the fact that she was actually talking to me. I caught an edge and fell down, knocking her down and falling on top of her in the process, we both broke out of our bindings, and the lift was closed until we could disentangle, recover our skis, and slouch off to the side.

The look of contempt and revulsion on her face (as I pushed myself off of her) is etched in my memory these many years later. I've never again seen anything quite like it.

Well, at least not until my daughter became a teenager. She's got that look down cold.

OK - I can't believe I am actually going to admit to this story...

When I was in college, I thought falletio involved only blowing - hence, the given name. My roommate showed me the proper *ahem* technique on a hair mousse bottle. When she was done with her demonstration, my other roommate said, "can I push the button and make it come".

My roommates thought I was from another planet. I'm just a nice girl...like RWS.

Few years back, I started the day by eating a lot of fast food and washing it down with half a gallon of Coke. Fast forward to a couple of hours later, when I'm sitting on the sidelines watching my daughter play soccer in mid 90 degree weather. All of a sudden, my ass is to the point where it's going to explode like Pom-flippin'-peii! I look around and see only two port-o-pots that are literally a quarter mile away.

So I start walking, slowly at first, then faster. As the johns draw nearer, the more my colon feels like there's a live midget in there straining to burst free.

I'm about 50 feet away, walking all doubled over and funny, not caring what the fuck I look like, just desparately trying to clench when I feel something slide between my already sweaty ass cheeks and plop into my boxers. Dammit!

I make it to one of the pots, which is pre-heated to about 400 degrees, rip my shorts down, spin and sit down as fast as I can just as the dam bursts. You need no further details at this time. My boxers are gonners so I take them off and throw them into the tank. With a sigh of relief, I step out and feel the cooler air hit my sweaty face and my now underwear free ass.

You'd think that would be the end of the story, but nooo! Twenty minutes later, I'm back on the sidelines when I have the very distinct feeling that I gotta go again and I mean right damned now!

So I take off in a fast walk and before I'm even half way there, my already worn out sphincter flat out says "screw this" and releases the hounds! With every step I take, mud is flying out my ass. Keep in mind I am no longer wearing any underwear, thus there's nothing to catch the shit that's now falling out the legs of my shorts. I start fucking sprinting, shit is hitting the backs of my legs, my shoes, and flying everywhere.

This whole time I have my eyes on the john, making sure no one is in it (I had seen someone exit prior). I burst in and before I can even get my shorts down, all self-control has vanished and I'm crapping all over everything, including myself.

I finally manage to sit down. How in hell there was so much more volume the second time is beyond me, but I guaran-damn-tee I lost at least 5 pounds.

There I am, covered in my own shit, baking in a stinking oven of a port-o-pot, trying to regain my composure when I realize there is, you guessed it, no toilet paper left. Fuck me. I wasn't wearing socks either.

I remember saying out loud, "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Then I start giggling. And I start half laughing, half crying because I am sooo fucked! My wife is a quarter mile away and my vehicle is parked in a busy high school parking lot and to get there, I have to walk beside a busy road and through a four-way stop intersection.

I clean up best I can with my t-shirt and lay it to rest with my boxers. I pull up my shit-stained shorts (thank God they were black) and exit the john. I start to walk toward my van and I can still feel shit falling out of my shorts and onto my legs.

By this time, I don't give a rat's ass who sees me. All I want to do is get to my van and see what I can do to clean up before my wife and girls arrive. I managed to find paper towel, baby wipes, some plastic bags and one pair of purple satin girl's soccer shorts. Another thank you to God for my wife's always being prepared.

When my wife gets back, she's with the team's coach and there I am with nothing on but a pair of very tight girl's shorts, sitting in the driver's seat trying to look as non-dorky as possible, smelling like ass and baby wipes.

She laughs herself to tears every time I talk about this story. Up to this point, she was the only one who knew about it.

So I start walking, slowly at first, then faster. As the johns draw nearer, the more my colon feels like there's a live midget in there straining to burst free.

Sounds like a terrible time, but egad, that was funny.

In my pre-jihadi days, when I would post here as Eric (the other one), I already competed against bbeck for the uber-geek awards. This is superfluous in that regard.
It also no longer applies, since I am now washed clean of who I once was.
Forward the Jihad!!!

Buying shoes at payless is not dorky! I buy sandals there all the time and I am in no way poor. They are just as cute as more expensive ones and then I can spend my money on other things.

And if we are talking about shameful things, then that is a different story---I voted for Carter too...Bleah.

Tinkerbell, when I was in college I don't remember BJ being a term. If I had heard it I would have thought it meant blowdrying your hair.

Geez, no wonder I won the Geek-Off!

Dorkiest concert tickets? Can anyone beat the Bee Gees? How about Liberace? Went to them both.

Dating? I taught my current husband how to fence while we were dating; I was captain of the OU Fencing Team as well as state champion (first in foil, second in epee).

Shoes? The most expensive pair I own are leather hip boots I wear with my historical garb. The next expensive are my Reeboks.

Books? I have a number of hardbacks autographed by writers like Roger Zelazny, David Weber, Frederick Pohl, John Ringo, Stephen R. Donaldson, Kim Stanley Robertson...and of course Larry Niven. I'll be getting George RR Martin's in a couple of months.

But then, Ace has enough ammo on me.

Later,
bbeck

RWS, BJ wasn't known as "that" while I was growing up...fortunately, as BJ were my initials.

Later,
bbeck

Goddam, compos mentis, that was some hilarious stuff. Why are I just shit myself stories so funny anyway? I mean, it sure ain't funny when it happens -- I have my own nightmare tale about a stomach virus, a late-night run for Immodium AD (no wimp-ass Pepto Bismol for this boy), and a slow-as-molasses Wal-Mart checkout girl who found out first-hand that when I said hurry up I wasn't just whistling Dixie.

bbeck, as far as having dorky autographed books, I have a book autographed by William F. Buckley. He was doing a book signing at UC Boulder back in the late 1980's during the "I hate Reagan" years, and I got the book & autograph just to piss off this leftie chick I was with at the time.

Once during my misspent youth, I got up from the bed my girlfriend and I were screwing in to adjust the bed as we had rocked the mattress so that it precariuosly hung over one side (yeah really). I picked up the metal corner bed post and it slipped through my hands and landed on my toes with a bang! I loudly farted a good one I had been holding in, and hopping around on one foot holding my other foot I fell onto the nightstand and lamp and we went over with bang and a clatter. Needless to say she found this so hilarious she kept repeating the sounds: bang, ppptttttt, bang pppttttttt, ahhh for months and I'll bet she still thinks its funny.

Oh Monty, Buckley is COOL! I'd much rather have his autograph than O'Reilly's (I have his THOSE WHO TRESPASS signed).

Hmm, I guess it's dorky to think that Buckley is cool. :)

Later,
bbeck

I'm named after a vegetable.

I have two books signed by Stephen King. On my copy of "It," he drew two balloons. In one, he wrote "Have a balloon." In the other, he signed his name. It was cool.

I've already told you about the bassoon. What more do you people want from me?

And as far as D&D dorkiness goes, I can still tell you hit dice and armor class on just about anything in the Fiend Folio. Dungeon Master? But of course. Even at Scout Camp.

bbeck:

Hmm, I guess it's dorky to think that Buckley is cool. :)

It sure was dorky back then, even at the University of Wyoming (my alma mater). Even at that hilarious cowboy college, there was enough liberal sturm und drang to make a relative moderate like me grit his teeth. I was an English major (another dork-point in my favor), and in order to get laid I had to pay lip-service to many leftie canards since all the females of my acquaintance were liberals. (Well, there was that one gal who was into SCA and Wicca, but although very nice was also a lesbian.)

Autographed books? Pfah.

I had an autographed photo of Tiffany Minx, erstwhile porn star, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at the booth sponsored by the Spice Channel at a National Cable TV Association convention, including not only her signature but the coquettish inscription "Michael, lawyers make me wet."

That's not the dorky part, of course. The dorky part is that I lost it. I can't find that photo anywhere.

Furthermore, I object to the conflation of "dork", "geek", and "nerd". Although there is (or can be) a union between the sets, they are not the same set. Example:

A geek estblishes a cladistic relationship between geeks, nerds, and dorks, and uses set-theory to describe their relationship.

A nerd spends time exploring this cladistic relationship, perhaps even turning it into a hobby.

A dork assumes that this avocation is interesting to persons of the opposite sex, and tries to use this knowledge as a pick-up line in an inappropriate venue (like a TCBY or movie theater).

Well, there was that one gal who was into SCA and Wicca, but although very nice was also a lesbian.

lol, It's a real shame we can't be historically accurate and burn the witches at our SCA events. :)

Buckley was a little before my time, but my sister did have a crush on him (which makes me dorky by association).

So did you make fun of the way he talked to get the girls' attention?

Later,
bbeck

Monty, a Venn diagram would nicely illustrate the differences in the terms. That should be an option on Ace's text lines: link, bold, Italicize, or Venn Diagram.

Later,
bbeck

Monty:

A loser uses words like cladistic, which the rest of us have to look up.

And which you never heard before until you learned about it at Politburo Diktat a couple of days ago so now you want to show off.

bbeck:

So did you make fun of the way he talked to get the girls' attention?

I am a lifelong registered (D)emocrat.

[Weeping]

There... I've said it...

Now I'll just go to my room and cry for a while...

Michael:

Jealousy is an ugly thing. If you wanted me to explain, all you had to do was ask. Then I would have pointed, laughed, and called you names; then we could have moved on.

A friend told a story (and I believe it) that we was performing cunninglingus upon his girlfriend and chewing gum at the same time (smart huh?). He said he suddenly noticed that the gum was gone. He had dropped it somewhere inside her. Not knowing what else to do he stopped and said, "uh I dropped my gum in your cunt." As they were both very young and inexperienced it took awhile to fish it out.

My best technique was to pretend to care about some stupid leftie cause -- save the whales, eliminate the nukes, US out of El Salvador -- and commisserate with some cute leftie chick while feeding her liquor. I celebrated many drunken, vaguely-guilty eroitc episodes that way.

Monty, any second something is going to click in Cedarford's brain and he's going to post, "So that was YOU! And you never called."

Later,
bbeck

Monty:

Jealous of you? Oh please. I don't have the time to give you a second thought. I'm too busy stewing in my juices about a certain someone who won a landmark case before the OREGON SUPREME COURT.

Michael:

Oregon Supreme Court? Pfft. I once saw a movie based on a book by a guy who claimed to know someone who was prosecuted in a court in Oregon. Or maybe it was Georgia. Or Texas. Anyway, the upshot is, the movie sucked.

Ugh. Could we maybe not get gross here? (looking at 72 maniacs)

Fair Flower of Southern Womanhood:

You're gonna hafta roll with the punches, sister. Give us some credit, at least we're off the subject of your daughter.

As they were both very young and inexperienced it took awhile to fish it out.

I wouldn't consider myself "inexperienced" by any means, but in this case, I'm baffled.

LOL

sparkle:

Ugh. Could we maybe not get gross here? (looking at 72 maniacs)

Just for the record, I want to make clear that all that embarrassing shit I mentioned about myself...all that was completely fabricated.

Yeah, fabricated, that's the ticket.

Pray tell, what's the easy way to get the gum out.

A vacuum with a hose attachment.

Later,
bbeck

Oh, and I dunno if this is necessarily embarrassing, but it certainly testifies to a deeply-ingrained dorkiness:

My favorite television show of all time - in fact the ONLY television show I was ever really into the way, say, Ace digs on Kim Richards - is/was Mystery Science Theater 3000. I have every episode on tape.

You don't understand. I mean EVERY SINGLE FRIGGIN' TWO HOUR EPISODE. I regularly drop random lines from the show (esp. the "Joel Years"), most of which are pop culture references to things I never experienced directly. I've seen each episode at least 15 times, some more than 50.

including the sour old Russian judge who usually gives only 9.5 tops.

Fat kid, don't encourage him. Please!

Michael, I think I have proven I can take it here, but that was just too...descriptive, gross, and probably not true anyway.

You could be right about the compos post, but I didn't read it once I saw where it was going. ewwww.....

Most of my dorkiness was back when I was in elementary school. To wit:

-I had an incredibly stupid blond bowl cut until I was in the fifth grade.

-I had an imitation Members Only jacket.

-Shoes from Payless? Boo-f'n-hoo. My mom bought my shoes from K-Mart.

-One word: Toughskins.

Looking back on it all, I realize that most of this stuff was due to the fact that my family wasn't very well-off for a while, and buying nice clothes for a little kid who'd probably ruin them anyway wasn't a big priority. But I really hated those cheap-ass K-Mart shoes.

I want to make clear that all that embarrassing shit I mentioned about myself...all that was completely fabricated.

Uh-huh. Me too. Just goofing. Would a cool guy like me play clarinet in a Boy Scout marching band? No way. Would I be a make-up artist in the Theatre Guild in high school? Get real.

I did lose Tiffany's picture.

Oh, and while we're on the topic of cynically feigning interest in left-wing causes to score some play, I once participated in an overnight "sit-in" invasion of the Johns Hopkins University main administration building (Garland Hall) to protest for a living wage. And - it gets better! - the next afternoon, whilst still lodged in the lobby of Garland, I gathered with the other unwashed protest kids to genuflect before the feet of none other than...that's right Noam Chomsky. He was speaking that night on campus. And yes, I acted extremely respectful.

All for ass. I'm proud to say that it worked, too. And the sex was good. Only the Chomsky bit makes me feel ashamed today.

Jeff, I would just think the hairy legs would be a turn off though....;-)

True confession: I wore drawstring sweatpants almost every day throughout middle school. Nobody ever told me that they made you look loathsomely slovenly and unkempt, and I didn't figure this out until high school. Also, I had long hair and didn't realize that one needed to comb it.

Gee, thanks Mom and Dad!

I used to love the Dave Clark 5, even telling my school chums that they were better than the Beatles.

That was before Rubber Soul, of course.

Michael,

You are married. The explaination is simple. Tiffany got thrown out during spring cleaning. Trust me.

Christ, I never should have started on this subject.

I've inadvertently broken the seals on doors which were never meant to be reopened. My conscience is now drowning under a torrent of heretofore repressed embarrassments. Oddly enough, they all date from middle school. The truly regrettable years.

A vacuum with a hose attachment.

bbeck:

Is this advice based on experience? I mean, otherwise, it seems a little irresponsible.

That last one is me, by the way.

Although come to think of it, maybe it's a good idea to remove my name from any further revelations about my awkward, clumsy past.

I just got off the phone with my sis. I told her about this thread, and she said, "Did you tell them about the time you used the toilet as a wading pool?"

Apparently, when I was a toddler, I had a habit of getting into the toilet and splashing around. My mom had to use a latch doohickey to keep the seat down so I wouldn't get in there and drown my stupid self. No word on whether my toilet-bowl shenanigans involved any foreign matter.

Is it still dorky if I don't remember doing it?

Is this advice based on experience?

I'm a housewife, Michael, my solution to anything usually involves a vacuum with a hose attachment.

Later,
bbeck

I'm a housewife, Michael, my solution to anything usually involves a vacuum with a hose attachment.

Yes, but oral sex? I mean, doesn't your husband get fed up with your, er...rather clinical, uninvolved approach?

Then again, you probably can't beat the suction.

In all serious, do not use a vacuum cleaner to get anything out of your, uh... Anyhow, that would be a bad idea. Just fish it out by hand, or else douche.

But how on earth would it end up there in the first place? Some guys think that going down on a girl is the same as sex, so they try to get up inside of there. That's a mistake. When it comes to oral sex on a woman, the action is up top.

Why am I posting this?!! Well, at least I'm not signing my name...

I used to have a roommate named Dum-Dum. Me and the other lads would avoid him as much as possible. One night I was sitting on the porch, reading by the light of a Citronella candle to avoid the attentions of this waste of protoplasm, and my creatively re-appropriated/stolen barstool broke. This pitched me forward into the bucketed candle, which I had placed on a half-barrel planter to get the light a little closer. The porch itself was just outside my arm-length. The candle bucket hit me in the eye and throat, the hot wax happily leapt to my face, and I ended up rolling in great pain on the ground and hoping that no errant drivers had witnessed my humiliation. I realized sometime later, after peeling wax off of my face, that I had not only saved my page but had driven my thumbnail into the sentence that I was reading for quick reference. This would have been OK if'n I were reading something deep. Unfortunately, it was an Alan Dean Foster.

Sean M.:

Yeah, my childhood was all about the Toughskins.

I've never done anything dorky in my entire life.

Until now.

Oh, yeah, I bragged about my IQ Test scores at PW.

Away we go:

I attempted to seduce women by teaching them how to play Magic: The Gathering.

My best friend in junior high was my pet guinea pig.

I wore a homemade Kermit the frog outfit in an elementary school talent show(I will not tell the talent. It was musical).

I was a CB radio dork with a 8' whip antenna attached to my Ford Econoline van that had tons of lighted toggle switches.

During high school, instead of looking for girls, I would argue about philosophy and religion.

My fishtank was a laboratory, in which I tested what design of the environment was best for the fish.

I ran away from home to buy Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comic books.

I still think that the Marvel Comics Infinity Gauntlet storyline should be made into a movie. The Silver Surfer was my favorite comic book character.

I thought Jurassic Park was so profound that I spent many months studying genetics.

There's more but I can't go on.

Then again, you probably can't beat the suction.

Well, Hubby doesn't need a vacuum for that. :)

And on a more serious note: owning every copy of MST3K is....wow, I think you're my new hero.

Later,
bbeck

Jeff B. wrote:

I've inadvertently broken the seals on doors which were never meant to be reopened. My conscience is now drowning under a torrent of heretofore repressed embarrassments.

I was the CO of my high school JROTC unit for both my junior and senior years. I was a computer operator (sytem communications) in the Air Force too.

I'm the treasurer of the local aquarium society. That's about as dorky as you can get. I have about 20 aquariums.

I'm the treasurer of the local aquarium society. That's about as dorky as you can get. I have about 20 aquariums.

Hmm, that sounds very fishy to me.

Later,
bbeck

(You MUST have expected that.)

Hmm, that sounds very fishy to me.

You can never be forgiven for this.

Even though I'm a dorky white boy, I once shaved the Malcom X 'X' onto the back of my head & had my hair like that for a couple of weeks. Where may I collect my prize?

Is this a "dork" episode?

A few years back I was meeting in my cubicle with a very nice-looking lady from another department. We were sitting pretty close together, and up close she was only only very pretty but also smelled very nice. I didn't see any wedding band on her hand, and she didn't seem to find me too hideous, so I was about to ask her out...

...when I noticed that she had a snot-bubble in her left nostril. A lime-green, pulsating snot-bubble. Every time she breathed, the bubble would grow and then shrink. She snuffled once or twice and apologized for being congested, but I was hypnotized by the pulsating snot-bubble. I mean, I babbled for about five minutes on various and sundry things, trying not to stare, desperately trying to think of a way to tell her about this problem without killing any chance I had for a date.

Finally I just grabbed a Kleenex and pinched the booger out of her nose, the way you see a parent do with a toddler. She was startled and embarassed; I was just embarassed. I tried to explain, but she started crying and left. I never heard anything more about it, but she never came over to my cube either. Later she married some tool who worked in the finance department.

But for that pulsating snot-bubble, we might have been living in conjugal bliss right now.

Jesus Monty, you picked a strange girl's nose.

That's pretty unique.

Jeff B.:

Man, what was I supposed to do? Tell her, "Hey, sweets, ya got a boog hangin'?" Oh, sure, that would really have improved my chances.

And ultimately, it was almost like fate: the boog-picking was not done by me, it was done through me. Jesus commanded me to wipe that booger away.

Ya'll have COMPLETELY grossed me out now.

I'm leaving and I'm not coming back until Ace posts again.

*slams door*

I didn't play D&D in high school. I *aspired* to play D&D in high school. All the geeks instead wanted to play Magic or debate whether the Enterprise or a Star Destroyer would win in a fight over a game of Euchre. Long story short, I got really good at Euchre.

I was on the track team and a member of the chess team as well. What is kind of funny is the disdain I see being heaped on the Theater people in this thread. I went to an all-boys Jesuit school, and theater was about the only time girls (from other Catholic schools) were ever seen. The theater guys got laid constantly, the bastards.

In more recent history, I spent somewhere around a $150 for all four seasons of the Sci-Fi channel's Farscape series on DVD because I think it is one of the best things I've ever seen.

For my high school prom, I selected this ugly green-ish tux with yellow trim because I thought I was supposed to try to match my date's dress.

I missed wide-open layup in JV basketball by banging the ball under the rim.

That was me above. Loose shit. Though I don't know why I want to lay claim to that pathetic personal statement.

Nobody asked me to the senior prom :(

OK, I'm catching on on these, but before I finish reading them, I have this proclamation to make:

With all the good real stories here, the idiots posting fake stories are, with a very few exceptions, coming across as very lame.

One exception would be the guy who claimed he was tricked into getting it on with a horse...

By the way, Ace, nice trick -- getting us to post a ton of content while you're off living your "famous radio star" lifestyle. Very nice.

To those with kids: it might help to share some of your embarassing episodes with them. I can laugh about a lot of my "dork stories" now, but they were pretty damned painful and embarassing then. It would have helped for someone to commisserate with me and give me a little bit of the "I been there".

That post by compos mentis should have killed this thread on the spot.

I mean, how do you top that?

And compos, dude, your daughter.

Your poor, sweet daughter.

My old man used to embarrass me by jogging around the neighborhood in a pair of white shorts that were so sheer that you could see his sweaty ass and jock strap through them after a mile or two.

But he never shit himself (twice) at any of my football games.

I hereby dub thee, "compost mentis."

I didn't go to my Senior Prom because I was bitter over the fact that I never got anywhere with my Junior Prom date.

I ended up watching hentai at a friend's house instead.

Used to keep the old ADD Dungeon Master's guide on the night stand. Before going to sleep, I would role a few "random dungeons" for my character to go through solo.

Spent a lot of time trying to decide what my personal strength, intelligence, charisma, etc. were (I don't think I was too honest with myself about that last one).

"Uhmm, you have something on your face...(point to your own nostril and HAND HER the kleenex)..."

And continue your conversation. This is better than robbing her of her dignity.
Not that there's a chance of this ever happening again.

Top 10 reasons I'm a dork [deep breath] :

1. I've got a story similar to compus's, but I was the one playing soccer. It was practice, thankfully.

2. Shoes from Payless? Pffft. Shoes from KMart? I wish. Try shoes from the PX (the grocery store on military bases). The only new clothes I had for the first day of my junior year in high school were hand-me-downs ... from one of the kids in my neighborhood ... who was younger than me.

3. I would rush home from swim team -- still decked out in my speedo -- to play D&D.

4. Friends and I used to sing a capella to girls. You know, to impress them.

5. The first time I ever had sex was in the back seat of a friend's car at a high school party. Naturally, the cops came to bust up the party at the same time that I was losing my man-cherry. We never finished. (I still count that as a half.)

6. My first car was a Volkswagon vanagon. It had fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview and a zebra striped blanket covering a mattress in the back. (This was the 90s.) To call it a piece of junk does a disservice to junkyards everywhere. One time, I was messing about with a girl in the back, propped my leg against the sliding side door for leverage, and the door fell off the car.

7. My date to junior prom had to pay for the pictures because I hadn't brought enough money.

8. This may not count because I was too young, but after enough begging to choke a horse, my mom finally relented and bought me a pair of ultra-cheap, knock-off parachute pants. I was so proud I wore them right away to a birthday party at the skating rink. Needless to say, I fell and scraped a hole in the knee. My mom was so mad, she sewed the hole shut with a soccer-ball patch and made me wear them. Add the parachute pants with the soccer-ball patch on the knee together with my Michael Jackson from Thriller jacket, and you have my 4th grade class picture.

9. I have 3 unabridged dictionaries that I keep at my house ... in case one doesn't have a particular word I want to look up ... and so I can compare definitions ... [sob] ....

10. [swallows hard] I once turned down a menage a trois (both girls from one year ahead of me, and one was an exchange student) because I was scared.

lauraw:

You must understand that I was trying to angle for a date; pointing out the booger situation seemed at the time to jeopardize that. Now, wiping the booger was (I grant you) a bad idea in retrospect; but I must say I didn't consider all the pros and cons at the time. I just could not take that pulsating little bubble for one. more. second.

All I can say in my defense is that I honestly meant well. Which is the perfect definition of "dork", I suppose.

tinkerbelle wrote

OK - I can't believe I am actually going to admit to this story...

When I was in college, I thought falletio involved only blowing - hence, the given name.

OK, seriously, why is it called a "blow job", since you suck, not blow?

Comish,

Number 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10

Oh, Heavenly Father, please forgive him.

10. [swallows hard] I once turned down a menage a trois (both girls from one year ahead of me, and one was an exchange student) because I was scared.

As a representative of a group of men who have had to use every form of guile, flattery, cajolery, and outright bribery to gain access to the Holy of Holies, I can only say this: Damn you, sir! Damn you!

Dear sweet Jesus, he was offered up the dream!

Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10 Number 10

I was a dorky outcast type girl. Not a geek or a dweeb or a nerd. Just...out there in my own little world.
I owe my sister my life many times over for grabbing my arm right before I walked dreamily into the road in front of an oncoming car.

One time I remember being in my room reading a book and hearing singing outside. Looked out my window and there were five or six kids from the neighborhood, with my sister, singing "Laurie come outside and play, Laurie don't read all day..." or something to that effect. My good friends from around the block, wanting me to come out and play. Naturally I pulled the shade and continued reading.

At the bus stop on trash mornings, the other kids would sometimes pick me up (I was littlest) and carry me kicking and screaming and throw me on top of the neighbor's pile of garbage bags.

I had a crush on this one kid and kissed him in a game of truth or dare. I kissed his cheek but it was too wet and I was mortified to see him grimace and wipe his face.
First kiss. Total failure. Loser. Can't do anything right.

Sigh...good times, good times.

It's like tearing up a winning lottery ticket in front of a bunch of starving homeless people!

Oh, God. Number 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Warden, wait, calm down, wait, wait just a second before you judge, now;

Comish;

Were they two fat girls? Because that's a safety issue and you would have had a right to be scared.

I didn't go to my Senior Prom because I was bitter over the fact that I never got anywhere with my Junior Prom date.

Now I understand why I didn't get asked to the senior prom...

You know, and what if one was hot, but the other was coyote-faced? That could create some logistical/ethical dilemmas.

(Takes a breath) I'm only forgiving him if they were fat.

Really fat.

Right...so let's just say they were really really fat...and he just didn't think he had enough flour.

I'll say it: fat is no excuse! I don't care if those two chicks worked part time as circus fat-ladies; it doesn't lessen the tragedy. If you must die while being the meat in a man-sandwich, then it is your duty to go to your reward.

God does not send gifts such as these our way often. When we scorn a gift from God, we scorn God himself.

Is there some truth serum thing going on here?

If so, then I have to admit the German girl looked like a curvier, shorter version of Natasha Henstridge, only with softer features. Definitely beatiful.

The American girl wasn't beautiful; she was ok. But if it's any consolation, she later became fat. But at the time, the worst I can say is that she had that Molly Ringwald "pushing maximum density" thing going on. And one of those hairsprayed poofy things in the front of her hair that all the girls were wearing at the time.

On the other hand, if there's no truth serum thing going on, then they were both hideously ugly, I had already lost a shoe after it got stuck in one of their gaping maws when I was trying to kick them away, and I never lose any sleep over it. Ever.

You are married. The explanation is simple. Tiffany got thrown out during spring cleaning. Trust me.

I hereby dub thee, "compost mentis."

Jesus Monty, you picked a strange girl's nose.

Just got back from taking my daughter to dinner. You guys are killing me.

Warden, Monty-

What if they were circus freak fat, had smelly breath, and open sores were they souldn't be. Is he excused? Because I am sure that was the situation he was faced with.

ok- never miond...he fessed up.

I was trying to help you out, Comish

'preciate it, tinkerbelle, but frankly, these guys aren't saying anything to me that I haven't said to myself hundreds and hundreds of times.

As Roy Hobbes said: "Some mistakes you never stop paying for."

This post jumped the shark for me back when bbeck mentioned vacuum hose attachments. I'm hesitant to admit my dorkiest moment occurred last night when I admitted I have an infatuation with Ian of Survivor fame.

Hey!! I thought we were never going to mention that thing that we promised never to mention again, uh, again.

Self-deprecation, or in my case, defecation, is darned funny stuff. You all have me cracking up!

Number Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen! Aaaaaaaargh!

With all the good real stories here, the idiots posting fake stories are, with a very few exceptions, coming across as very lame.

One exception would be the guy who claimed he was tricked into getting it on with a horse...

Yeah, I was lying when I said that. The horse just wasn't into it.

She fuckin' wanted it, though. She had that look in her eyes.

Practically begging. You know what I'm talking about.

This is just a well that never runs dry.

One time I took my four-year-old nephew with me to the hardware store to pick up some stuff. I was in the bathroom fittings section and he kept bugging me that he had to go to the bathroom. I told him to hold on a minute, that I was almost done.

I got busy talking to the salesperson and when I looked around, my nephew was nowhere in sight. I started rushing around, terrified, afriad that he had wandered off. Then I saw him...sitting on a floor model toilet taking a squeege. With sound effects and odor.

I just booked it: I picked him up like a fumbled football, yanked up his drawers, and fled. My sister almost fainted with laughter when I finally got him home (although she quit laughing when she saw the mess in his pants).

I never entered that store again, and I've always wanted to apologize to whatever sad sack had to clean out that floor-model toilet. I'm sorry, man!

P.S.--In case anyone was wondering, I saw her again a few months later, right after she'd broken up with this stud mare she'd been seeing. Broken her heart and all that.

Long story short: I shagged her raw.

I just booked it

There's a gas station in rural Georgia that still wants to beat the crap out of the Yankee that plugged their toilet and left that mess behind.

After reviewing this thread, even with all the funny stories, the one line that still hits my dorkfunnybone is :

I cried when I spilled grape juice on my Millenium Falcon.

I know, baby. I know.

The problem is that you always think one more flush will clear the bowl, and then it overflows . . .

At age 26 I was (and still am) the most feared elven assassain in a live-action role-playing game.

"I call forth a flame bolt!"

Downtime -- the correct usage is, "Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt!"

I wore my Ace of Spades shirt to a little league baseball game tonight. I noticed some of the mom's trying to read the back of the shirt, but didn't get anybody asking about the throat slitting.

My boy got a nice single, then the real lightning bolts started up and we had to call the game. Pansies.

Number Ten, baby. I'm all over number ten.

The bonus is, I still got in trouble for having my dad's car for much longer than I should have.

On the other hand, while one of the girls was very attractive, the other was.....well, I'll be kind and say beautifically deficient. But there was a significant amount of chickening out involved, none-the-less.

Monty,
I had a college job in a little retail shop. One time there was this lady and her little girl in the store. Lady shops, pays, leaves with the kid.
I walk across the store to straighten shelves and right where this lady and her kid had been, on the carpet is a small, tight-spiralled cone of poop. Looked like it was plastic but it was the real thing alright.
I picked it up with a plastic bag and cleaned the floor with carpet cleaner.
The plastic bag went out to the back room with the other trash & cardboard going out to the dumpster.

By the end of the day, I forgot all about that little plastic bag which I should have thrown out right away.
The next day I'm working with my manager friend, and unbeknownst to me, she's trying to find the smell in the back room.
I walked in on her as she was opening the bag. I suddenly remembered about it, but it was too late.

The look of combined horror/vomitous disgust/incredulity on her face was PRICELESS.
I nearly died laughing.
Retail is interesting.

When I started discovering about sex, which happened in stages, it got to one early experience where for the first time I was, in daylight, together with a boyfriend and we had no clothes on. It was then I noticed something, since he didn't have a hard on. He was lying down, face up, and his thing was lying to the side on his stomach. And I just could not believe it, I thought it was hillarious, because in my totally inexperienced mind with just about no details about male anatomy/nudity, all I knew was that men's penises usually hung *down* and they would get hard and point up. I had thought that's how they were hinged, on a vertical axis, just up and down and it would never flop to the side. I found my discovery so funny, I started giggling non-stop, to see it was like a wobbling pin.

He wasn't so amused. Someone laughing at his cherished anatomy... really...

Oh yeah? In college I entered a break dance competition... AND came in third! The topper? There were only 4 contestants. Bada bing bada bam.

Those and more embarrassing truths can be found on my About Me page.

I saw her again a few months later, right after she'd broken up with this stud mare she'd been seeing.

A "mare" is a female horse, exclusively. Are you saying you shagged a butch lesbian horse? That's not dorky, it's just fuckin' BIZARRE.

Monty,

that's that kid's game. We had to use the entire verbal for the effect. LARPers that fumble the verbal are spazzes that cheese and I'd just have to call "no effect".

The full verbal on a lightning bolt was "I summon forth a lightning bolt." Besides, Lightning Bolt was second level and only 8 points of damage. Flame bolt was fourth level.

(and if the Special Forces guys I was hanging out with earlier tonight heard me talking like that, they'd disown me. I'm cool now. I swear.)

I've walked inadvertedly into men's bathrooms 2 or 3 times. Thank heavens and all the stars above, no Burger King ones.

They were luckily empty, but once, as soon as I noticed my mistake and spun around to head out a guy came in and had that startled "a woman here!" look...

And I had that "no,no, she was here, she is no longer here" look... don't get thinking anything...

- I drew up a GURPS character sheet of myself and gave it to my girlfriend, now wife, so she could get to know me better.

- My mother got her fashion sense from Life Magazine. I went to 8th grade, off of 11 Mile Road outside of Detroit, wearing wide vertically striped yellow and blue bell bottoms and a wide horizontally striped yellow and blue crew shirt. "Hey, vonKers, who fucked up your vertical hold. Fuckin' fairy."

It is Friday night and I am reading this blog. Does that make me a dork AND an loser?

I've walked inadvertedly into men's bathrooms 2 or 3 times

Everyone has done that. You want embarrasment, imagine a social gathering at the pastor's house. You head for the powder room to take a much needed whiz and walk in on the pastor's wife.

Wouldn't you think she could lock the door when there's company?

(... and the fact that the first time I saw that video my thoughts were "negative points for costume, fumbled verbal, and how many lightning bolts did he call? Anyone who spent their build on a spell pyramid that wide deserves to die."... defines me as a dork, even if I haven't played in 6 years.)

wretched refuse, glad to have taken that burden from your shoulders.

tinkerbelle, I am reminded of the punch line to an old joke. it ends with "blow is only a figure of speech".

compos, COMEDY GOLD. Mine involved about to catch a plane for Chicago. Worked out better than your story, but it's the first and only time I've ever flown to Chicago commando.

bbeck, boots with historical garb? that requires context. or photographs.

Someone asked for a story involving their children. I step up to the plate.

I have two teenage daughters. Being a guy, married to a gal, I naturally assumed any discussion or details involving physical, uh, maturity, come from mom. That's just the f'n' way it is.

So I wasn't afraid of the moment... mom coached them. Yeah!

She didn't coach me on taking my eldest to the drug store, while we were on vacation at the beach, to purchase the necessary version of the necessary sanitary product, of which there are three hundred and FIFTY friggin versions of, NONE of which I was finding in aisle 4 next to the anti-perspirants and toothpaste. You ladies speak the language. "Wings". "Night-time". "Wide". "Narrow". "Slender". "Reed-like". AUGH!

I'm standin there with a 13 year old girl, kiddin around trying to get her to quit huffing and puffing like 13 year-olds do, wearing 2 days of beard, shorts, scruffy t-shirt, asking her "which one baby"?, and of course she doesn't know, not to mention doesn't even want to speak to me..

and these older women in the store are lookin at me with a look that says "you pervert BASTARD! You child molester. You sick monster you"!

Realizing my mistake, I pull out trusty cell phone, and say in a loud voice, "honey, let's call your MOTHER and ask her to help us, because your MOTHER will know what we need to do, ok little one"?

You know the Southwest Airlines ad slogan? "Wanna get away"?

Oh God, did I ever.

Enough of dorkiness Past. Why not focus on dorkiness Present?

A confession: out of 4000+ CDs and hundreds of bands, my favorite rock group is...Genesis. And not just the mildly credible Peter Gabriel era, but most of the Phil Collins stuff too.

I still remember the day I was paging through my CD collection and I realized that I had become the very thing I had always hated: a prog-rock dork. With the complete discographies of Genesis, Yes AND King Crimson. And an ELP album or two.

Someone hand me a ladder.*

*Where?

Alessandra - once, while traveling, I was so tired that I walked right into the women's bathroom. I remember being really annoyed and confused by the lack of urinals.

Then a woman walked out of a stall and yelled.

Egad, that was embarrassing.

aaaahhhhhh -- in the court of the Crimson King!

The Comish (sic) :
9. I have 3 unabridged dictionaries that I keep at my house ... in case one doesn't have a particular word I want to look up ... and so I can compare definitions ... [sob] ....
-----------------------------------
1. I have multiple language ones.

2.I could never solve those teenage mystery books, except for the really retarted "all the clues in your face" stories.

3.I've never played D&D, but I played hundreds of hours of Tetris (which doesn't count because it is neither dorky nor nerdy, but very cool)

4. But I just adore Barry Manilow's "Mandy"

I remember all my life...

Wouldn't you think she could lock the door when there's company?

I don't know what kind of barn you were raised in, Michael, but I was always taught to knock on a closed bathroom door in someone's house before entering.

Odd that you would not mention Procol Harum.

I've actually seen King Crimson in concert, but I had no idea who they were. One of my friend's had an extra ticket and bs'd me into going. I think I was the only friend he had that had a car.

Michael:

If that's an attempt to answer my trivia question, then WRONG. Waaaay less cool and artistically credible than that.

And while I've always respected In The Court Of The Crimson King, it's never been a favorite. No, the era of Crimson that I'm a shameless, obsessive dork about is the '72-'74 era KC, the Larks' Tongues In Aspic/Red era heavy metallish stuff. I still think "Starless" is one of the greatest songs ever recorded.

Present dorkiness:

I have four or five books on grammar. I've read "The Elements of Style" at least half a dozen times.

We have a copy of "My Fair Lady" on DVD. I purchased it.

I have three different versions of the original Star Wars trilogy. The original and special editions on VHS and the DVD version.

There are action figures in my computer room. I hide them in my wife's plants.

Michael:

Procol Harum is not prog-rock. Procol Harum is art-rock. And yes, there's a fucking difference. Same with Pink Floyd: art rock, not prog-rock (with the except of Atom Heart Mother, their one prog work, and a piece of shit at that).

In fact, Pink Floyd is one lame fucking band.

More Confessions of a Dork:

I'm fascinated by Indo-European languages and Indo-European language change. So much so I'm working on teaching myself Old English.

What an utter tool I am.

I don't know if this counts as present dorkiness, but I can't stop reading Gravity's Rainbow. Seriously, I read it like twice a year.

Sean M: You're not the only one. It's one of my favorite books.

Not an attempt to answer your trivia question (and Google is not helping me now). I just figured that if you liked King Crimson, early on, you had to like Procol Harum, the group that really inspired Sgt. Peppers, Their Satanic Majesties Request, and the whole 'album rock' thing that reached it's peak with Tommy.

I make it to one of the pots, which is pre-heated to about 400 degrees,
--------------------------
You know, I've never understood why they don't make the things ventilate more. It's like a microwave, those pots are hell...

and the smell...

I like king Crimson. And Pink Floyd. I like Pink Floyd a lot.

So you, Jeff B., are this anti-Christ I've been hearing all about.

Well, well.

Slu:
There are action figures in my computer room. I hide them in my wife's plants.
------------------
:-) at least it's not Bambi figures...

I have four or five books on grammar. I've read "The Elements of Style" at least half a dozen times.

Can't believe you said that. Top 3 publishing events in human history:

1 The Gutenberg Bible
2 The Wealth of Nations
3 The Elements of Style

I love Strunk and White.

"Fumblerules" by William Safire is also one of my favorite books.

Slu:
There are action figures in my computer room. I hide them in my wife's plants.
--------------------
Oh, and I play Snakes on my cell phone. One time I annoyed the heck of a guy sitting the in the seat in front of me on a bus trip, because I had the sound effects on, including the buzzing...

It's just not fun if it doesn't buzz... :-)

So you, Jeff B., are this anti-Christ I've been hearing all about.

Well, well.

Funny, I get that a lot. As far as I'm concerned, Pink Floyd released maybe 5 songs worth listening to twice: "Point Me At The Sky," "Summer '68," "Fearless," "Shine On You Crazy Diamond Parts I-∞," and "Dogs." Notice the absence of any fucking bricks in any fucking walls.

But let's talk Genesis! "Supper's Ready!" "Firth Of Fifth!" "Dance On A Volcano!" "Duchess!" "No Reply At All!" "That's All!" WOOOO!

Or even better, let's talk about my dorky, lonely obsession with art-punk and post-punk. Wire, Joy Division, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Cure: you name the band, I've probably attempted the lead singer's hairstyle.

Inspired by The Comish, I offer the following, in the form of a Top Ten list (there's no menage in it, though):

10. I, too, am embarrased at the fact that I'm getting excited over a Star Wars movie.

9. I made my own lightsaber once.

8. Like Slu, my main D&D character (during the heyday) was a halflng. (Though I have never cast a lightning bolt.)

7. I made the lightsaber the year after I graduated from law school. This was in 1999. I was 31 at the time.

6. I own the following: Natalie Merchant's Tigerlily, Tori Amos's Little Earthquakes, George Michael's Listen Without Prejudice, Sarah MacLachan's Fumbling Toward Ecstacy and the The Sign by Ace of Base.

5. In junior high, I had a yellow Izod polo shirt. The first day I wore it to school, I spilled exactly one drop of chocolate milk on it. That drop happened to land in a location where it looked as though the alligator had deposited a moderately-sized turd. This was pointed out to me by the girl on whom I had a major crush at the time and had, just that moment, worked up the courage to talk to.

4. I have plans for a new and improved lightsaber, and I've got nine bucks on a Home Depot card that I've already earmarked for this purpose.

3. I so loved Excalibur that I bought a copy of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. I listened to it so often that, to this day, I am known to sing along to the lyrics. In Latin.

2. There is a trombone in my past.

1. I once lost an opportunity to go on a second date with a girl because I failed to call her within a reasonable time. I'm not saying who she is, but let's say her last name starts with "Zellweger."

In fact, Pink Floyd is one lame fucking band.

C'mon, Jeff, stretch a little. Admit that you like "Welcome to the Machine".

[Period outside quote marks violates Strunk & White rules.]

I have the complete recorded discography of The Monkees.

On remastered CD.

With bonus tracks.

C'mon, Jeff, stretch a little. Admit that you like "Welcome to the Machine".

Bah. A fetid, steaming pile of tripe.

Though I will add to the list: "Us And Them" is a pretty great song.

I have the complete recorded discography of The Monkees.

OK, Jeff, you have gone too far. Ace is apparently absent, so it's apparently up to me to enforce some standards. Stories about exlposive shitting are OK. Discussions about vacuuming gum out of vaginas is OK. The Monkees, that's not OK.

You've gone too far. Someone had to tell you.

Yeah, Jeff. Damn. Monkees ... Jeez.

I may have more Jewell and Fiona Apple CDs than I should, I admit, but there's no need to get like that. Talk about a killjoy.

I have the complete recorded discography of The Monkees.

OK, Jeff, you have gone too far.
---------------------------
I am the best at Pictionary. Nobody plays Pictionary better than I do ;-)

btw, the Monkees on TV were cool... those hairstyles and jackets...

Hey, at least the Monkees took Hendrix on tour with them. Has Snaggletooth (my brother's inspired name for Jewel) or Fiona Apple ever had a comprable opening act? I doubt it.

Hey, I'm not defending it. I know it's wrong. But let's not descend into total anarchy here.

But let's not descend into total anarchy here.

Oh Phinn, your innocence is touching, really.

I don't want to be the first to bring up The Tubes, but. . . .

I so loved Excalibur that I bought a copy of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. I listened to it so often that, to this day, I am known to sing along to the lyrics. In Latin.

That's like saying "I am known to sing along to the lyrics of Brahms' Ein Deutsches Requiem: In German."

What other language are you supposed to sing in? Fucking Urdu?

I mean, shit.

What other language are you supposed to sing in? Fucking Urdu?

If John Boorman had put an Urdu song in Excalibur, I'd be singing in Urdu.

Unless you have talent, singing along to songs is pretty dorky to begi with. (No one would accuse me of having any talent in that regard.) But singing in languages you don't actually speak adds an extra dimension to the dorkiness, I think.

But it's still not the Monkees or anything.

Singing in German is OK. Camp references to the Monkees is not OK.

But I loooved Davy Jones!

Come on. Comish is lame, but he had sex? In high school? And was offered a threesome?

Not A Dork.

They had some great albums, man. I recommend Headquarter or Head, the soundtrack to the Monkees' inevitable feature film, which was written by Jack Nicholson (yep, that one) and directed by Bob Rafelson. (Who knew?)

I'm not being facetious, either. I'm not making any claim for their eternal greatness, but they did give an outlet to some great songwriters (especially Goffin & King) as well as Mike Nesmith's authentic country-rock weirdness. I don't really give two hoots about "authenticity" - the music itself is great '60's pop-rock.

Except for that godawful "cheer up Sleepy Jean" song, though. "Daydream Believer," I think it's called. Egads.

Headquarters, that is.

And you've gotta admit that "Pleasant Valley Sunday" has a pretty cool guitar riff, whoever actually played it.

Did I hear someone say, "The Tubes"? Yeah, that got my attention.

OK, personal stuff -- didn't do proms, junior or senior. Skipped a grade so I was into college at 16. Wore wide-wale corduroy, long sleeves, and long hair years before I did drugs and had an excuse. Did D&D in the old boxed-set days. Possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done sexually is an extended bout in an apartment complex sauna where I came close to keeling over -- lovely picture for the morning news if I had.

When I was diving regularly, had a penchant for knocking around the boat during surface intervals and having impromptu conversations with people. Realized later that many of them had snuck off to odd spaces under the bow to do bladder relaxation exercises.

Abased myself in myriad ways to get close to various females....but that's just par for the course.

Looking back, there's not a lot that rises to the level of some examples here.....

I blog.

Well, for current dorkiness....

1. I often mistakenly put salt instead of sugar into my tea because I keep the condiments in similar containers. Why not change the containers you ask? Good question. Let's move on.

2. I once took a dress shirt directly from the dryer and put it on, put my tie on, and hurried to work. I got some weird looks, and when I looked down I saw that my shirt was wrinkled. Extremely. It looked like I was wearing a crushed brown-paper bag. And I couldn't go home right away to change, so I had to put up with lots of cruel shots from co-workers.

3. My (now ex) wife and I went to a movie last year. About halfway through, I got up to get some soda and popcorn. I come back, my eyes on the screen, and sit down. I hand the popcorn tub to my wife, and I settle in for the next five minutes or so. Then some guy whispers, "Hey, man, you're in my seat!" It turns out that the chick beside me was not, in fact, my wife (and she hadn't noticed either). My ex just about laughed herself into a hernia over that one.

4. I had run out of shaving gel so I used some of my wife's leg stuff. Only it turned out that her stuff was a depilatory, not shaving cream. Nothing bad came of it, but I was pretty freaked out for the rest of the day, wondering what was going to happen. I did get a pretty clean close shave, though.

Like I said, this is a well that just never runs dry.

I lost a presidential election to Bill Clinton and Al Gore.

Jeff, I now have that fucking song rattling around in my head.

... and a homecoming queee-eeeeen ...

It's really unforgivable that you've done this.

Well, Anti-Christ, I was prepared to forgive you for Us and Them, which is probably my favorite PF (actually, I pretty much like the whole DSOTM.. if there was one album that my band decided to cover, beginning to end, that'd be my choice),

anyway, really, I was feeling the love,

until you brought up that damn "Daydream Believer", which is now echoing around in my head dear Jesus MAKE IT STOP!

jerk

I have spent literally thousands of hours having kinky sex with super-models.

Oh yeah, almost forgot, I also know the entire lyrics (all verses, including the slight differences from the version they play at the beginning of the show and at the end of the show), to the Mr. Ed Show Theme Song.

It's a big hit at parties. Also, I'm an Eagle Scout. And I've yet to meet someone who can do a better wookie noise than I can.

I was simultaneously president of the Debate Club and the Art Club as well as being in an improv group and singing...gulp...in the dweeby chorus of my high school. I learned to play the tamborine because of Davey Jones in the Monkees.

Gawd, that feels better. I am cleansed! But I'm still a hopeless nerd...reading articles on quantum physics for relaxation and secret delight.

Ace, there ain't enough electrons in the universe to catalog all my dorkiness in one comment. I'll leave you just this:

"Overloaded fusion cannons at a range of zero, BABY!"

You got me - just after I posted that, I remembered something worse:

Fledjar Findworm, the gnome who thought he was a halfling.

Oh, and I only do two voices, so all my NPCs sound like either The Old Man... or Fledjar.

Damn, Ace has got to be laughing himself into a fit over this thread. He's going to have to start a database.

I have been reading ace for a year? butr rarely comment however.....

I played DnD in the 80s, then went off to wnader the world until 2000

then started my own company and Castles and Crusades. I know Gary Gygax well.

And am now reveling in a misbegotten youthful geekiness of such extreme levels I am stunned and too embarassed to tell in-laws or neighbors :)

I once tried for 3 months to get a date with a girl. When she eventually said yes I was delighted. So, (this is Junior High), I was jogging all cool like (soccer) one afternoon when I saw her, I waved she waved back and I was so intent on making sure my 'jog' technique was cool, I focused on my legs and feet and did not notice the tree. One bloody nose and black eye later....

I also cut the end of a finger off 12 hours before a date and showed up with a lot of pain killers and a recently re-attached finger.

The dating scene was always painful for me.

davis

Let's see....in high school I was into Duran Duran and even dyed my bangs blonde like John Taylor's....

My first concert was the Osmonds...my older sister even made me a special outfit to wear...

I own an $80 Boba Fett helmet that Jeremy Bulloch autographed for me when I met him in a comic book store in 1998..also met Peter Mayhew at the same time and he autographed a Chewbacca print I got from the Star Wars fan club in 1980! And I still have my original 12" Princess Leia and her hair is still in the doughnut 'do!

You know what's happening to Ace?
The blog has finally achieved critical mass and he's taking a little well-earned break.

And all you jock-sniffing blog barnacles are enabling his lazy ass.
You make me sick.

I don't even know why I keep coming here.

Oh, and if Ace is one of the Huffngton post contributors;
DUDE, YOU HAVE TO PARODY ROBERT EVANS' PIECE FROM THIS MORNING!!

that's Huffington TOAST.
Jesus I shouldn't be writing at all today.

I got turned down for a Prom date by a girl who didn't even go.

Oh man... this is some good stuff. I've only read bits of the thread, but there is some great ammunition here. From Compos "Mr. Poopypants" Mentos to VonKreedon's love-letter in GURPS character sheet format...

Can't wait for the next flamewar.

I haven't read the entire thread - but I did read the poopypants one- and I had to go and tell my husband. Which, if you think about it - is pretty dorky (telling your husband what your little "pretend" acquaintances on the internet said.)

Before I was a Lightman for Mr. Paul Anka, I was a DJ in Las Vegas. I was emceeing a concert featuring Eric Burdin and his new group WAR. I went backstage to talk to him and find out the name of his group (because it wasn't on the marquee). I don't know if you've ever talked to Eric Burdin but he has what you might call.... an accent. He told me the name of his group (had to ask him twice) and then went onstage to announce to the sell-out crowd.
"Here he is... Eric Burdin and WOOL!"

I've walked inadvertedly into men's bathrooms 2 or 3 times.
Michael:
Everyone has done that.
-------------------
Not all of us can poop for hours on end at our daughter's soccer games. :-)

At least something happened when you walked into a ladies' room, you were spared a mundane dork experience...

Ok, but promise not to tell anyone. Years ago in college I was walking across the main quad area along with hundreds of others between classes. Being basically a bag of male hormones at the time, I noticed about fifty feet directly ahead there were five major babe-types walking toward me. Then I noticed they were staring at me and smiling. Sweet. Then I notice they are looking at my feet. Hmm. Curious, I look down in the general direction of my feet (in a cool studly way of course), and notice something white about six inches long protruding from the bottom of my right pant leg - and it is not my foot. I take probably three more steps before my brain processes the horrible truth: It’s my underwear. They are making a break for it via my pant leg and are within six inches and a few more steps of success.

I remember getting in this little fight with myself swearing that this can’t be happening as it is physically impossible underwear to exit via one pant leg. My brain also reported that my normally underwear-covered areas checked in and believed themselves to still be covered normally. But my eyes were swearing that as usual my genitals were in denial. My brain finally ruled that the cruel reality was that tighty-whiteys were indeed working their way out of the bottom of my pants and that it was not a hallucination brought on by too much coffee as I had hoped.

By this time of course, the babes are laughing as hard as their makeup would allow. Others, noticing the free between class entertainment, join in. Since time had slowed to a crawl in my personal space efforts to reach down and remove the offending garment took just under a lifetime. Finally reaching said Fruit-of-the-Looms, I yanked them the rest of the way out, and thankful that nothing I was going to need came out with them, stuffed them into my pocket and continued walking - right past the babes and way past my dignity.

Epilogue: My nether regions were right when they reported to my brain. The offending underwear were evidently inside my jeans that morning when I pulled them from the dryer and waited patiently for the worst possible time to execute their escape plan. Though scarred, I did graduate with honors, went on to become an Air Force fighter pilot for six years and have lived a mostly normal life to date. Mostly.

Eric Burdon and Ozzy Osbourne's accents sound like they come from the same family.

Dear God in heaven, this thread is still going? Ace may finally have discovered a genuinely inexhaustible topic: the hopeless dorkiness of his readers.

Things we do for the opposite sex: I got married in a cream-colored tux, with brown velvet piping, and a brown velvet bow tie. It was my second marriage, too. 1978. I STILL cringe when I look at the pictures.

I got married in a cream-colored tux, with brown velvet piping, and a brown velvet bow tie.

You would have fit right in at my wedding. Did you also had shoulder-length hair? Never mind, of course you did.

Personally, I just refuse to look at our wedding pictures.

My feet are so big that I have to ask for men's shoes at the bowling alley.

Lipstick Dynamite,
You better stay out of the next flame thread. You should not have fessed up to that. Seriously. You are TOAST.
I already got five lined up, Sasquatch.
OK, four.

Does one of them have anything to do with the size of her clit?

DOGSTAR!!!

Holy crap! And to think I was going to write something nice and consoling to you because of your bad prom experience!! Well forget it!

And Lauraw, flame away, it doesn't bother me and I've probably heard them all. Well, almost all until tonight.

I am now going on a date. Goodbye. Dogstar, enjoy your date--your hand.

Does one of them...

I got turned down for a Prom date by a girl who didn't even go.
Posted by Dogstar
---------------------------
Are we surprised?

Sorry- guess I'm used to writing on sites where you can take stuff back.

Oh well... Spank away.

Lipstick Dynamite:

Hope you have a great time on that date. Just be a little careful on the dance floor. Smashing a guy's foot bones can kinda kill the mood -- know what I mean?

Of course you do.

lauraw:

To be fair, you are probably failing to acknowledge the obvious advantages that LD enjoys. For example, you and I have to spend serious money on equipment if we want to go skiing.

(Now you have three)

When I was 15, I played Jesus in a half-assed passion play for my mom's church. The whole parish was there to see me get fake-nailed to a piece of wood.

A week later, the nun in charge of the production wrote a letter to my high school principal praising my performance.

He posted the letter on the bulletin board in the entryway to the school for all to see.

And see they did.

And that's how I got to be the cool, self-confident dude you all know today.

Pray tell, what's the easy way to get the gum out.

Wrap some hair around the end of a pencil. Like a swizzle stick. It works!

I'm one of those paramilitary dorks.

Marching band in high school, but only during my JV football season. Went back to it in college as I was too small to play defensive line in Division 1, and the scholarship money went to fund fireworks and Battletech miniatures.

I've played AD&D on and off since fifth grade, and that was 22 years ago. Never upgraded past first edition either.

I blew off the senior prom for a Battletech game.

I was part of a Shadowrun game held in a four-star general's backyard when he was on vacation.

I was in on a live-action Paranoia game that got us all kicked out of the Fort Walton Beach Holiday Inn, and Hurricon shut down.

I remain accused of having shut down the high school on senior exam day with a large smoke bomb.

I have autographed Star Trek novels, Chuck Yeager signed his autobiography for me, two signed Tom Clancys, 11 signatures in my copy of "Rendesvous with Destiny", and Jake McNiece signed my copy of "The Filthy Thirteen".

I took one of my WWII hats to Iraq just so I could get a picture in it. What's worse is WWII Impressions has the pic on their web site gallery.

I volunteer at the Division Museum and had to teach them how to take a Thompson submachine gun apart because they couldn't get it right.

I took my now-wife to a rental range on our first date and handed her a M3A1 Grease Gun. I took her to the Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot for our second.

You're not a geek Sgt. Dan, you're just hardcore.

wow Allah is really the crucified Christ. I think Revelations now needs to be updated. Allah can explain all. Praise be Allah.

Traded my new ZZ Top hat for sexual relations with a lesbian; had a "Broken Arrow" moment due to coke weenie. Appealed to the better angels of her nature for another attempt which she allowed. This time, acheived Happy Penis. This all happened on a houseboat on a lake within putting distance of her life partner. Oddly enough, I would get drunker in the future...

One thing of which this thread has reminded me is that, no matter how cool someone may think he/she is or appears to be, by simply being human, the dorkiness abounds. The fact that everyone who posted can admit and laugh at themselves and allow us to laugh with them proves you to be ultimately cool in my book.

One thing I didn't add to my original post: As I sat in my van, shirtless and in purple girlie shorts, I could clearly see the john where all hell had just broken loose. I watched with a wide-eyed mixture of humiliation and growing amusement as Fritz, the father of my daughter's teammate walked directly toward the pot of which I had just 'painted' the interior.

I cringed as Fritz reached for and opened wide the door. He took a half step in and jumped back so quickly it was as if a swarm of bees had come pouring out. He stood there, door handle still in his hand, looking up and down the interior of that port-o-let, mouth agape, with a 'Oh my god what the fuck exploded in here' expression.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud as he just stood there, letting go of the door handle and watching the door slam shut, arm outstretched as if he were still holding the door, other hand now over his mouth and nose. Fritz looked around as if to ask the invisible people standing on all sides of him if they too had just witnessed the gate to hell , then cursed out loud, threw his hands up and stomped off to the other john.

And now you know the rest of the story.

okokok.... L5 member. L5 convention organizer.

I *love it* when someone can use a word that makes me look it up. I consider it a gift. [phrases, too]

I love Van Dam diagrams.

I liked John and Mike Nesmith best. [Paul?!? eww.]

My new favorite book is Eats Shoots and Leaves.

I'm always late to the cool threads.... *sigh*

Can't beleve this thread is still going.

Nobody's familiar with patheticgeekstories.com?

Used to be a feature on The Onion, now this gal has her own site. Her artwork compliments the stories really well.

compost, it was the way you told the story that made it. my sides still hurt.

late to the party ...

in middle school, i was so fat I couldn't wear real blue jeans. My mother bought me two pairs of *fake* jeans - cotton/synthetic with an elastic waistband, but the fabric was most ingeniously designed to resemble denim. I had two pairs, blue and grey.

***

I was not in the country for the crucial second half of fifth grade, when the list of what is and isn't acceptable in Big Kid School is passed around. (Also, probably, when the sex education movies get shown. Fortunately, I was hip to that scene already).
Thus, I didn't get the memo that "double-strapping" was no longer the done thing. Much public shaming ensued. I was so traumatized by the mockery that I actually bought, with my own money as far as I can remember, a backpack built with only one strap, right down the middle, to make single-strapping obligatory.

Not only was I a dork, I was the kind of dork that is forever chasing after the proper, un-dorky, fashionable thing, but never ever ever attaining it. Others just wallowed in their D&D like a pig in filth but no, I felt the hot sting of shame and envy on a daily basis.
/catharsis

Fat Kid, no, I am really not that hardcore. I can prove it. No Ranger tab.

I really am just a paramilitary nerd. I'm the first guy who gets called for the esoteric stuff ("We just found an antiaircraft gun, how do we get the rounds out of it?"), but they can't stand me lecturing for five minutes on the design as I figure the thing out.

Well, since I want to at least have the option of whooping up on some of you folks, I guess I'll give up a couple embarassing secrets so I can do it with honor:

At an earlier, less bald point in my life, I had a mullet.

Like SGT Dan, I too, took a girl to Knob Creek on a date (first, not second). Why didn't it work for me? (Oh yeah, mullet.)

Marching band geek in HS. All four years.

I was on the HS fencing team.

I was 22 years old before I realized the Bellamy Brothers song "If I Said You Had Beautiful Body, Would You Hold It Against Me" was a double entendre.

Rocketeer, saber, foil, or epee? Fenced three years in college after the SCA shire was plagued by drug busts. Saber mostly, once a hack and slash artist, always a hack and slash artist.

I once failed to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Sam Boogliodemus says:
I was in on a live-action Paranoia game that got us all kicked out of the Fort Walton Beach Holiday Inn, and Hurricon shut down.
------------------------------------------------
Ten years after the fact, it would be presumed noone would be around to refute this statement. However...

As the founder, chairman, and person who closed HurriCon, I can safely say you were not involved in a game that got HurriCon "shut down." HurriCon ran for four years, but when I and the co-chairman moved to New Orleans, the convention came to an end. There was no other reason, in fact the Holiday Inn contacted me asking if I would return to do another show.

~~~Steve

Neil Diamond's Coming To America moves me to tears, and not from the pain of it all.

Both my mother and I can quote parts of Monthy Python's Search for the Holy Grail. And do. In public.

Biggest Karmic Burden: Today, I was discussing the latest Harry Potter book in a coffee shop in a book store. I said who died. As we left, I discovered that a man sitting in a table behind me was in the process of reading the book. If I don't go to hell when I die for that one, I'll probably have to be a garbage scow operator in NYC in my next lifetime.

I've read and really, really enjoyed all the Harry Potter books.