Black Jesus Returns


     Brad was traipsing along one day, absentmindedly checking his phone when he scrolled across some distressing news!!!

     “Maaan, they made Ariel black?! That’s bullshit!!!”, he exclaimed loudly to no one in particular. “God damned social justice warrior bullshit! Fucking snowflakes! Jesus Chri…”, and before he could even finish that sentence, the sky opened up and a beam of light shone down from on high and on that beam was the Lord Savior, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, motherfuckers!!!

     Jesus was resplendent in his simple robes and his dope Nike sandals. “You called, bruh?” Brad was shocked. He wasn’t shocked because he was standing in the presence of God, he was shocked because Jesus was as brown as dark stained wood with a curly fro that was the most perfect he’s ever seen. “Wha…who are you?” “I’m Jesus, my dude! Why you trippin’ about a fictional character?” Jesus was curious to hear Brad’s answer. “Wait, Jesus is white! You’re blaspheming!!” Brad retorted. Jesus gets this a lot. “Naw, homey. Why would you expect someone born in the Middle East, in what is modern day Israel, to be Caucasian? How many crackas you know from there?”

     “I don’t believe you. You’re just fucking around! Wentworth? Is that you, dude? Blackface is wrong, guy!” Brad chuckled like someone who didn’t really think blackface is wrong. Jesus saw through his lie. “Fuck you, Brad. I’ve seen your Facebook profile. Those party pictures lead me to believe you love blackface. Blackface IS wrong, by the way.” Brad was offended. “Jesus doesn’t curse!! My profile is set to friends only!!!” Brad has begun to sweat ever so slightly, as if he is being judged, and he isn’t sure he’s getting a good score so far. Jesus noted his discomfort, and got up to his neck in Brad’s ass. “FUCK YOU, BRAD. I’M JESUS, MOTHERFUCKER. I CAN DO WHATEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE!”, Jesus said, his voice echoed, booming with the deepness of James Earl Jones and the swagger of Samuel L. Jackson. He calmed himself and continued. “Now, why you drinking so much Hater-aid? You done given yo self haterbetes!!! 

     Brad chose his words carefully. “Uh, well, cause she’s always been white. It’s integral to the character.” Jesus’ dark eyes rolled until you could see the whites clearly. “Brad, she’s fictional half fish, half human. Her color ain’t got shit to do with anything. Now, if she was say, Black Panther or someone playing Martin Luther King Jr., then sure, color would be integral to the character. This is not one of those situations.” Brad decided to get brave. “Hollywood and other people are just doing diversity for the sake of diversity!!! Women and woke snowflakes are ruining it!”

     Jesus got out his golden pic, which he did when he was really trying to make a point, puffed out his magical afro, then spoke. “So, let me get this straight. The Caucasian man has been overwhelmingly represented in all forms of media, history, and religion forever. You have played people of color such as African and native Americans and portrayed them as racist stereotypes mind you. You have forced your religion on people who were happy as they were. You have written history books in your own image making the white man the hero when, much of the time, they were the villain. You continue trying to hide behind the law to try and force your religious and moral views on women who are quite content and capable of making decisions about their own bodies. You blame your inability to find jobs on brown immigrants who are, without complaint, doing the jobs you refuse to do then in the same breath you call them lazy criminals who are a burden on the system. You are born with a built in opportunity to receive every privilege there is, yet you are pissy and moany about everything! I have a theory: Maaaaaaaaybe you feel threatened that your majority and self granted, in your mind superiority is quickly eroding. By 2050, white people will not only be a physical minority, but a vocal one. If you want to cry ’bout that go ahead. Your fate was sealed over 250 years ago when slave massa couldn’t keep his white cockship Enterprise out of all those black holes. Your people have enslaved and subjugated just about every non-white race on Earth and even some of your own people!!! So….YOU DON’T GET TO BITCH ABOUT A GOD DAMNED FICTIONAL MERMAID’S COLOR….NIGGGGGA.”

     Lightning struck close-by with a rolling rumble of deep, bone rattling thunder as if for emphasis. “Ooops, sorry Dad! I forget every time.”

     Brad listened this supposed Jesus’ rant and doubled down on stupidity. You never ever double down on stupidity. “I’m just saying white men are under attack for no reason. All this #MeToo shit and social justice agenda has me not knowing how to act is all I’m saying.” Jesus had it. “YOU DON’T ACT LIKE AN ENTITLED, MISOGYNISTIC, SEXUALLY ASSAULTING, RACIST DOUCHEBAG!!! You know what?” Jesus cracked his knuckles, “You gon learn today!!! BLACKNESS!!!!”, Jesus intoned, and there was a dark cloud that began to swirl around Brad. His skin began to turn the color of dark chocolate, his naturally wavy blonde hair curled up tightly and became like black wool, and he grew 4 solid inches….in height. “There, now you black!!! Now you will know all about how minorities live their lives in fear.”

     Brad, now black as a windowless room with the lights turned off, continued his run towards the stupidity hall of fame. “Oooooh, can I say nigga, now?” As soon as the word left his mouth a police cruiser pulled up and flashed it’s lights. WOOP WOOP! The officer got out of the car. “Hey, you live around here? Let me see your ID.” Brad had never been stopped walking before. “Of course. Sorry, officer, I was talking to Jesus here….?” Jesus had faded away like a sweet jumper and was nowhere to be found. “Jesus, huh?”, the officer said, obviously unconvinced. “Is Jesus one of your mexican gangbanging homies?” Brad was still approaching the situation as if he was white. “No, officer. Why are you stopping me? I’ve done nothing wrong. Why do you need to see my license?!”

     Now the cop was getting riled. “Look, boy, don’t question me when I ask you to do something!!! Show me your FUCKING LICENSE!!!” Brad relented, still giving attitude. “Fine! Calm down. Here is my license.” Brad hands the cop his license. The cop takes it and looks at it with a puzzled look on his face. “Is this a fucking joke? Whose license is this?!” “Mine!”, Brad chirped, his voice betraying the fact that he just now remembered that Jesus turned him black but his driver’s license still shows a white dude’s photo. Things are not going well. “I mean, uh, Jesus turned me black, but I promise that’s me. officer!” The cop remained highly skeptical. “Are you one of those crazies? Too much of the crack cocaine, boy?!!! Huh?!” The cop reached for his radio to call dispatch to prepare for an ambulance to take Brad to a hospital for psych eval. Brad’s heart was in his throat. Why was this happening? He moved towards the officer to explain…

     “DON’T YOU TAKE ANOTHER STEP, MOTHERFUCKER, OR I’LL FUCKING DROP YOU!!!”, the officer screamed as he pulled his service weapon from its holster and trained it on Brad. “WOAH!! PLEASE DON’T SHOOT, MAN!!! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”, Brad cried as he covered his face and curled up in total crippling fear. Just then there was another lightning crack and thunder roil. Brad looked up at the officer and in his place was Jesus, picking out his ‘fro again, laughing. “Hahahahahaha, you should have seen your face, Brad! You went ashy as fuck, dude!” Jesus pulled a fat joint from the nether, lit it, and took a long drag. Brad stood up and dusted himself off. He looked at his hand and noticed it was white again. He was white again!!! “Jesus….”, Brad started, but Jesus interrupted. “That’s Black Jesus, bitch. You give a shit about a white mermaid princess now?”

     Brad, shaken and thankful to be alive and returned to his normal state, measured his words and spoke, “I mean, making her black is just pandering to the PC left media….” BOOM!!!!! There was a bright flash of light! When it subsided, Brad was gone. There was nothing but a pile of ash next to a pair of smoking boat shoes. Jesus got on the radio in the cruiser. “Yeah, Uncle Beezy? What up, my smokey nigga?!!! I got another one for Hitler’s work detail.”

     Thank you for reading. I am rusty and this was meh, but it’s a story. I have been promising forever to do more stories. Now that I have a new gifted laptop, there will certainly be more of my satire and twisted sense of humor.

Sincerely,

The Geekfather

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July 12th, 2017, Motherfucker!!!


There are many dates throughout our lives that we remember for whatever reason, good or bad. The title of this blog is the date on which my life and its course changed irrevocably.  Up until July 12th, my life was difficult but it was what I was accustomed to. You see, I have congenital congestive heart failure, Left ventricular to be more specific. I have had it for 20 years and became accustomed to the limitations it put onto my life, which were some, but not many. Then I developed chronic kidney disease, which comes with the heart failure territory, sooner or later. I thought, “Ok, this is just another issue to adapt to. No biggie.” Medications kept my fluids in check and my kidneys, though compromised, still did the job they were designed by biology to do. I did most of the things other people my age did, but mostly, I drank. 

 

July 12th, 2017 was probably the worst day of my life, other than my parents’ deaths. Many days before, I was preparing to celebrate my 42nd birthday, ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ style. This was going to be the year of 42!!!! The answer to the question: Life, the Universe, and Everything. It was going to be grand. It started slowly with slight weight gain, which I just brushed off, then it progressed to a feeling of fullness, lethargy, and ultimately, extreme nausea and a loss of appetite. This was on my birthday. I remember not wanting to see my birthday movie, ‘Spiderman: Homecoming’, but you see, I have this character flaw wherein I feel great panic if I think I am disappointing people, especially my friends. So I pulled it together and went to the movie. It was a great movie, of course, but I couldn’t truly enjoy it in my condition. I was stubborn. I thought it was just a stomach bug and it would pass. I let this ordeal continue far longer than it should have. Maybe I truly, deep down realized what was happening, but I did not want to admit it. Admitting it made it true, you see. I didn’t want to admit my fear that I was in kidney failure, again.

 

After a few instances of almost passing out, I drove my stupidly difficult self to the emergency room. It was July 8th, I believe. I don’t specifically remember. They told me I was fluid overloaded. This was something that has happened before so I knew the drill; Intravenous diuretics to help my kidneys eliminate the excess fluids. Only this time, nothing was happening. NOTHING. I wasn’t urinating. I should have been pissing buckets. I was getting really scared. “What if this time was different? What if my kidneys were done?” On July 12th, that question was answered. My nephrologist at the time was a nice man named Larry Davis. Although he was nice, he was a matter of fact type of guy. He came in my room and broke the news to me: I had developed ESRD. End stage renal disease. This was it. I was always afraid of dialysis, but thought, “That’ll never be me.” Well, now it was me. I thought my life was done. Therapy three times a week forever, or I would die. This news was like being hit with a wrecking ball. It altered my life, but I wasn’t aware of that yet.

 

As I lay in my hospital bed, hooked to a large machine cycling my blood out, cleaning it, then cycling it back in, I was hit with all the things I believed I could no longer do. Drink, smoke weed (I really miss that one), urinate. You’d be surprised how much you miss peeing until you can no longer do it, cause sometimes you just need a really good piss, amirite?! I was under the impression that even though I had advanced heart failure and a newly minted diagnosis of ESRD, I could still work full time. My body made it abundantly clear that that was complete crazy talk. Who listens to crazy talk?! No one, that’s who! So I dragged my body through each day, struggling more and more. The work days after dialysis treatments were especially challenging. Challenging like climbing Mount Everest without supplemental oxygen. That means it was super hard and sucked super bad, just saying. I had filed for social security disability and Medicare coverage. I was counting the days until I was approved, then I would quit magnificently like Scarface from Half Baked.

 

Then October 17th came and my illusion came crashing in. I was denied disability because I was still earning too much money. So, the decision was made. I had to quit my job. What a scary thing to do! It had to be done, cause to get help, the government wants you to be completely destitute. Who needs to pay bills or have a roof over their head while the government takes 4 to 6 months to review your case? That’s just plain nonsense. Being homeless is so underrated!!!  So as of right now, I wait, praying that my meager 401k and driving Uber and Lyft part-time can sustain me until my benefits kick in. I would work full time, but I have an earnings limit of $1160 a month. That’s not even $300 a week. I’m on the razor’s edge here. I’ve crossed over from the safe zone into the danger zone. I’m riding the lightning. I am in uncharted territory and I am terrified. Change is difficult for me. This whole process has been difficult. There have been multiple emotional breakdowns and I imagine there will be many more.

 

 

New normal is a motherfucker.

Teenage Mutant Ninjacking Turtle!


*DISCLAIMER* THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. YOU WON’T LOOK AT NINJA TURTLES THE SAME IF YOU READ THIS. IF YOU CHOSE TO CONTINUE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. YOU’LL EITHER LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF OR NEVER COME HERE AGAIN.

 

 

 

 

Michelangelo was in his room relaxing after yet another tough street fight with the Foot Clan. He and his brothers fought Shredder and tore him a new turtlehole as usual. He retreated like a punk bitch as usual. While on the way home, Rocksteady and Beebop thought they could take advantage of the situation, but those fools got schooled too.
“No chance.” Mikey mumbled out loud to himself. Mikey was so awesome during that fight, literally yelling out “I’m righteous wicked, dude!!!!” He was chilling out waiting for the pizza guy to show (why they allow the pizza guy to see their hidden underground lair was beyond him) when his thoughts drifted to April O’Neil, the crack field reporter. She was always there on the scene, getting footage of them, helping in their fight, and inevitably needing their protection. His room was adorned with a disturbing amount of pictures of her, especially involving her ample breasts.
Mikey realized his little turtle was out of its shell. He was a teenager and the hormones were strong, even more so enhanced by the green radioactive ooze. Daredevil went blind and got enhanced senses and sonar, while all Mikey got was becoming a teenage mutant ninja turtle that got the most inappropriate monster boners. Right now was one of those times. “I got time before the pizza gets here! I can’t deny the TURTLE POWER!!!!!”
He found himself staring at all his April pictures on his wall like a horny teenager…who happens to be a six foot seven, 450lb turtle. Leo, Raph, and Donnie all thought he was crazy for being hot for a human woman. Raph was always saying “Turtles can’t bone people, ya numbskull!!! There are laws!” Well, he was a dreamer! Those titties of hers were always straining against her stupid yellow jumpsuit. “How many of those fucking things does she own?” Mikey thought to himself. Those thoughts led him to pull out “The Box” under his bed. The one that had the ‘more adult’ stuff he had of hers, which included a pair of her panties. Mikey had lifted a pair from her dresser when they were scouting her apartment after they first met her. Raph said it was to make sure she was “Cool n’ shit.” The panties were yellow. All of her panties were yellow. “What’s her deal with yellow, anyway?” He figured she wouldn’t miss a pair.
“Oh, April, let me help you out your jumpsuit…oh what I’m going to do to you…” Mikey was now in full furious stroke when April burst into his room..
“MIKEY!!! WE GOT A LEAD ON…..HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!!!” April was mortified.
Mikey recoiled in shock and embarrassment. He fumbled with her panties and was trying to put his monster back in the shell.
“THE FUCK, MIKEY?! HOW DID YOU GET A PAIR OF MY PANTIES?! WHY WERE YOU MASTURBATING WITH THEM? GOD, WHY DOES YOUR PENIS LOOK LIKE THAT ALIEN GOO SNAKE FROM ‘PROMETHEUS’?! Even in absolute horrific shock, April still asked a ton of questions.
Mikey paused, still holding her yellow panties, “Uhhhh, what answer would get you to not tell Master Splinter about this? I mean, I borrowed a pair from your dresser when we were scoping your pad, dude. They were all yellow! I didn’t think you’d miss one pair! As for my penis, I’m a turtle. I have a turtle dick. You ever see a turtle dick?”
“NOOOOOOO!!!!! EWWWW!!!! WHY WOULD I LOOK FOR TURTLE DICK ON THE INTERNET?!” April was fuming now
“Curiosity? Once you go green…..”
“AHHHHGGGGHHH!!!! NOOO!!! THOSE WERE MY FAVORITE PAIR!!!! April interrupted.
Mikey was puzzled. “How can you tell?”
“I…JUST KNOW! DON’T JUDGE ME!!! MASTER SPLINTER!!!!! COME HERE!!!” The judgment in April’s eyes was unmistakable. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re so busted.”
Master Splinter appeared as if out of nowhere into the doorway, looking very grim and serious as always. “What….is the problem, my dear April?”
“I caught MICHELANGELO plaaaaaaying with himself while fondling and sniffing my panties!!!”
Splinter looked away from April and directly at a very guilty Mikey. “Yes….your favorite yellow ones…” Splinter whispered softly to himself with a wistful glint in his eye.
April shot a glare at Splinter. “What?!” Splinter recovered like a ninjitsu  master. “Oh, nothing, nothing.” Splinter rose, back straight, “MICHELANGELO!!!!! YOU HAVE BROUGHT SHAME UPON THIS HOUSE!!! APOLOGIZE AT ONCE FOR YOUR DEVIANT BEHAVIOR!!!!”
Mikey was still trying to shrink his boner now hidden under his Incredible Hulk bed sheets. He was still staring at her breasts, which seemed to heave to and fro and almost throb on their own. How did her top remain closed. It was like she was wearing a smedium on purpose. “I’m sorry, April. I hadn’t ever planned for you to catch me ninjacking…”
“LOOK AT HER EYES!!!!” Splinter commanded. He was staring at her chest too, but he was better at hiding it. He missed being a human at times like this so much. Mikey raised his eyes to meet April’s. “I’m sorry. Do….you…want your panties back, dude?”
“EWWW, NOOOO!!!! BURN THOSE!!!!” April yelled. Then, composing herself, said more calmly “It is ok, I GUESS. Just…give me a lot of space. I don’t want to see you near my stuff again!”
Mikey looked over at Splinter, who returned his gaze with a look of stern disapproval. The stare burned through Mikey’s soul. “Ok.” Mikey said with the tone of a child who disappointed his parent.
“April, I apologize for my student’s actions. I will reprimand him accordingly. He will learn his lesson well.” Splinter was shrunken now in his standard slumped posture, as if asking for April’s forgiveness.
“Good! I’m…going to go now and pretend I never had this experience.I don’t know why I thought a turtle dick would look like a human dick.I need a drink.” The words trailed off as she rushed out the door.
Splinter stared at Mikey for what seemed like a 1,000 years before he finally spoke. “Michelangelo, what is the lesson to learn from this?”
Mikey thought hard for a moment then offered his answer, “Don’t masturbate, Master Splinter?”
“NO!!!” Splinter bellowed. “LOCK. YOUR. DOOR.” Splinter looked at him more softly now. “Now, put away your weapon and wash your hands. The pizza is here. Don’t touch mine, please.”

Mystery Dick Theater: Cock’s Last Day


This blog is about dicks; not figurative dicks, but literal dicks.

“Uh, ok.” I can hear you say it now, but bear with me. I had posted an article on my Facebook profile a few days ago about NBA player and doofus Draymond Green “accidentally” posting a picture to his entire Snapchat TL of his penis. My dear friend Elizabeth Anne Hamilton and I entertained ourselves immensely and gloriously lewdly posting comments about it as if his penis was getting a performance review from the boss.  Here now, is how, if his dick was being reviewed like they do in the workplace, I think it would go….

Big Dick (President and founder of Big Dick Pics): “Cock! Cock Johnson! Cum in here!”

In strolls Cock to Dick’s office, erect, excited to receive a stroking. “What’s up, Big Dick?! You yelled for me?”

Big Dick: “So we need to talk about your performance….”

Cock: “Damn straight! You like that Dick Pic I dropped on that girl’s Snapchat?! I was all oiled up and shiny, like a boss!” Cock was pleased with himself as he gently throbbed.

BD: “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that CJ. That pic went to EVERYONE’S TL, you penis! Which would be salvageable, but, well….you were looking listless and droopy. The Lighting was poor!  I really think you could do better. Have you considered further training?”

CK: “I don’t understand BD. I flog everyday!!! Never skip a day!!!  I’m like a rock!”

BD: “Well, by the looks of this pic, more like a soft pebble. Maybe you’re jacking too hard? Maybe you need some help? Viagra? Your medical plan covers it. You should look into it. You know how us older penises get. I take it, there’s no shame there.”

CK: “Fuck that, BD! I don’t use performance enhancers!!! That’s for those bullshit movie penises! I’m a real phallus! I go all natural.”

BD: “Can you maybe get more erect?”

CK: “Dammit boss, I am ballin’ so hard! I’m one of your best members! I mean, I know I’m not as big as Mandingo Jones, but I got moves! I work what I got.”

BD: “Mandingo is our star right now, Cock. He’s like a battering ram. He’s curiously frightening, which is good. You’ve fallen off. We hired you because of your plucky spirit and you were always ready to go at a moment’s notice. The hint of cleavage, a wisp of panty line, a breeze…and you sprung into action.  Now….you’re soft.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to write you up for a poor attitude. Please bear in mind you have been warned. The next time we catch you sleeping on the job, you’re sacked.”

Cock Johnson begins to throb faster now. Part anger and part sadness, he bursts into tears. “I’m…I’m not 17 anymore…I….I’ve been having trouble at home…and…..” The throbbing is now reaching a crescendo.

BD: Oh, no, stop crying……. OH GOD, THOSE AREN’T TEARS!!! WHAT IS THAT COMING OUT OF YOUR EYE? DAMMIT, COCK, YOU’RE FIRED!!! We can’t have that kind of a mess here! After that outburst, I’m afraid you’ll need to pack up your desk and leave the premises. We can’t have that kind of a mess here.

CK, between spurts: “Is there severance pay?”

BD: “WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT!!!!!” Big Dick hardens himself, “I’m afraid I can’t answer questions about unemployment insurance. You’ll need to contact HR about that. Also, I’m afraid our company will not be giving you a reference. Now, pack your things and security will help you pull out.”

Cock is now deflated. He feels half the size he was when he walked in the office. “I can’t believe I’ve been dicked. What will I do now?” Cock mutters to himself as he hangs a left down the exit hallway….

There you are. That’s where my brain went with that. Go find the original thread on my page. Until next time!

PILLOW, TIMMY!

The Blurred Nerds Podcast, Episode 20


BlurredNerds Logo

Lil Bit and The Geekfather, along with special guest Eric Staples, discuss nerd thangs!

Special guest Eric Staples joins us once again on the podcast where we discuss:

– Sims 4 removing gender restrictions

– Shorter future seasons on Game Of Thrones

– Meme Wars

– Walking Dead

– Reboots of Highlander & League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen

– Scary movies as a child vs now

– What makes someone walk out of a movie/stop watching a show

– Upcoming geek events and cons.

Read more at The Blurred Nerds on Facebook

The Declaration of Geekdependence


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People ask me why I am doing this. Why am I chasing down this dream of becoming a professional, paid geek entertainer, podcaster, and voice actor? Where did you get this drive to do what needs to be done to make it happen?

To answer that question, I have to go back to July 6th, 1975, when I was born to Carolyn and Donald Coe. That was a year of the rabbit in the Chinese Zodiac. Why does that matter? Well, the traits of men born in the year of the rabbit are:

“…those who always treat people politely, with a gentle smile that makes people feel that they are credible and sincere. When meeting trouble, Rabbits can handle it in an orderly way; when encountering tough difficulties they are never discouraged, but are persistent to seek solutions. So they eventually achieve enviable success.”

Enviable success?  I like that.

So I’m totally destined for greatness?

Perhaps, but having those traits doesn’t guarantee anything. I still needed the nurturing and the constant push to speak up, to do the right things by people, to make them laugh, to make them happy. I credit my mother with this, the toughest woman I have ever known. She came from South Central Los Angeles and could survive almost anything. She showed my sister and I how to take life’s punches and punch back. I never saw her complain or quit, and she had every right and reason to. I used to ask her why she never gave up. My mother always said, “Baby, I never was given the choice. I have you and your sister. You need me.” She loved my voices I made and how I made her laugh, and fed my burgeoning geekiness. She encouraged me to be me. She said if I could overcome my shyness, I could do wonders with what she says God has gifted me.

I always thought I was ugly and odd shaped. I would hide and make my voice small, freezing up when I had to speak in class or give a presentation. I sneaked silently through school, only really being myself around my trusted friends. They had always told me, “Your voice is great! You should do radio! Cartoons! Something! You could be the new Movie Trailer Guy! You are funny, seriously. You can do it!” I would say, “No, I’m nowhere near as talented as Don LaFontaine!”  They’d say, “Who?” I would roll my eyes, “How do you not know who that is?!”  I just didn’t think I was worthy of the success I craved, the goal I desired. I thought that my heart disease, low self esteem, and size wouldn’t allow me to be anything other than invisible.


After the deaths of too many friends and family before their time, including my mother and father, I realized there was no right moment. I had to push myself to believe I had talent and, most importantly, that I was worthy of success. I had to make it happen. I had to make it the right moment. So with that in my heart and the integral help of my brothers Timmy Stewart, Alex Trevino, we formed The GeekVengers. We started small with local conventions here and there locally, did some videos, and had a blast. They gave me the mic and put me out front. “Use your natural humor and charisma! Fuck the fear!” I did just that and at our very first convention we met and interviewed Jennifer “Lil Bit” Adams.  I had no idea at the time how that singular event would chart the course of my life going forward. 4 years later, with some heartbreaking subtractions and some wonderful additions like Adam Garcia, Courtney Goodrum, The Blurred Nerds Podcast, and GVTV, we are going strong and growing stronger.

This is my calling. This is my focus. This is my destiny.

No quitting.

Alamo City Comic Con 2015: Generalissimo Pwns It!!!


We’ve had such an amazing run since September when we attended this event. We apologize for the delay, but we’re only human! So now that you’ve whet your appetite with The Blurred Nerds podcast‘s newest episode, you can give your ears AND eyeballs some sweet geek loving and watch this panel! He’s The Man.

Excelsior!