GOOCHONLINE - Since 1999

My Dad corrected me on some typos on the last blog. This isn't hardcore literature. This ain't fucking Tolstoy. This is short form, short attention span reading. I'll be damned if I'm going to spend more time writing this shit than people spend reading it. From now on, I declare that I'm a competent writer and if there's any grammatical or spelling errors in the future; ignore them. I'm writing this on my faithful Compaq laptop while laying on a bed while watching porn. I don't have time for spellcheck.

I've acquired some new habits in the last few weeks.

I was in the bathroom at a bar a couple of weeks ago. It was one of those unisex bathrooms with a sink and a toilet, one person at a time. My social anxiety kicks in and sometimes I use public restrooms merely to get away from people. I remember going into the boys' bathroom in high school because there were no girls there and I lived in perpetual self consciousness and shyness at the time. I soon discovered alcohol and an artificial self confidence that I have maintained to this day.

So in this bathroom in a bar I'm standing. Contemplating life. Contemplating my lack of sobriety. Contemplating urinating in the sink, for I had to piss pretty bad. Perhaps it's an American Disabilities Act code compliance, or just a really low sink. Right below the zipper and a smaller than usual outer edge were qualities that drew me to this sink. My dick was drawn to this sink like it was a toothless midget. I whipped out all three inches of my penis, instinctly looking over my shoulder like I always do when I'm doing something that most people deem socially unacceptable. I aimed for the drain in the center of the sink and unleashed the fury that only two pitchers of Coors Light and three Jack Daniels w/ Diet Coke could store in the human bladder. I turned on the spigot and effectively washed my hands and flushed at the same time. The toilet stared at me as if it was neglected somehow. I smirked coldly at the toilet while I zipped up. I turned around, unlocked the door and went back to my pool game.

When you consolidate lifting the seat, urinating, flushing, and washing your hands into a two step process, it's the ultimate in efficiency. Watching me urinate in a sink is probably as exhilirating as watching an Indy pit crew work on a car during a race. I need a plumber to lower my sink at home. I need to invent a urinal/sink combo. I'll revolutionize plumbing/bathrooms as we know it. I've pissed in a porn store video booth, the shower, the meat preparation room at an Albertson's, various places. This has changed my life. Fuck yeah. gooch:I'm back.