GOOCH: 6AM. PORK QUESADILLA'S CONSUMED SEVEN HOURS EARLIER BROUGHT ON THE SCARIEST OF THE SCARY NIGHTMARES. THE BEST PART OF WAKING UP PREMATURELY IS KNOWING I'VE PROVIDED A FRESH BLOG FOR YOU BORED SECRETARIES, EX-GIRLFRIENDS, FUTURE EX-GIRLFRIENDS, PRIESTS, PARENTS, AND THE FELLOW UNEMPLOYED.
Currently in queued in my Windows Media Player: Gordon Lightfoot: Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot: If You Could Read My Mind, Beastie Boys: Ch-Check it Out, Van Halen: Panama, System of a Down: Sugar, Slipknot: Spit it Out, Chicago: If You Leave Me Now, Perfect in Plastic: How Deep is Your Love, Perfect in Plastic: Gold Digger, Beastie Boys: Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun...
If you drive by my condo's [open] office window at this very moment, you'll hear System of a Down's Sugar and see beer neons glowing purple and pink, visible from the outside. I have a day-care located 50 yards from my back door.
CINCO DE DRUNKO: A RECEIPT FROM MY CINCO DE MAYO THIS YEAR. I HAD A FRIEND COME OVER TO THE CONDO SO SHE COULD WATCH ME DO SOME PRE-FUNC TEQUILA SHOTS. FROM THERE WE WENT TO A BAR CALLED STANDING ROOM ONLY (SRO) WHERE I BECAME THE LIFE OF THE PARTY BY LOOKING AT THINGS (OR PEOPLE) TO LEAN ON, SLURRING MY WORDS, AND SOMEHOW REMEMBERING TO SIGN MY CREDIT CARD RECEIPT. IT LOOKS PRETTY NORMAL, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE "0" IN THE TIP SECTION. [source: goochonline.com archives]
Went to a Tupperware party last night. Margaritas were served as the girls and I sat and looked at the veritable cornucopia of plastic, burpable, one-touch-closeable wares. Am I simply comfortable with my masculinity, or a raging fag? Ask my manicurist.
I've been asked to retire my catch phrase: "I'm Gooch, bitch" which you could hear me utter ad-nauseaum after, maybe, two drinks of beer. I, of course, stole this from Dave Chappelle's "Rick James" skit. It's so hard coming up with a catch phrase. I mean, if you're the star of a blaxploitation film from the seventies? No problem. If you're a white guy from Laurelhurst, it's pretty difficult.
IF JOHN BELUSHI AND DR. LAURA HAD A KID, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ME. DIDN'T THINK I GAVE A SHIT, DID YOU? I'M COMPLEX, BITCH. THIS IS FROM ABOUT THREE YEARS AGO. [source: under ex-girlfriend's refrigerator magnet]
Birthdays this week: My hero David L. (whose birthday party I regrettably missed), Kay, Nikki, and Emily. I feel like Ramblin' Rod right now, except a little less alive.
Two per cent of the population will get that last, obscure reference. I feel like Dennis Miller right now.
Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died. Steven Wright.
I spent 1/24th of my day on this blog. Going back to bed for another hour or so. The mood is better than when I started. Gooch:OUT
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