The good thing about drinking WAY too fucking much in an evening is that you wake up the next morning still drunk. This helps when your buddy tells you the next morning about your antics the evening prior. I ran into friends that I never, ever see in Troutdale. Normally when friends you rarely see all show up at the same place it's either a surprise party or (likely to be my case) an intervention. I drank way too much... delusions of grandeur to a magnitude unlike anything seen from a straight man... I scored a date with a girl that I really like and was turned down by a girl that I really had no interest in. Excuse me... a girl in whom I had no interest. With whom? I certainly had interest in whom. Fuck it. I'm still drunk. I had another girl that I really liked tell me that I'm much more fun when I'm drunk. I had another person tell me that the night before. Way to reinforce a bad habit. Sober Gooch is nowhere near the social status that drunk Gooch has accomplished in the Metropolis of Gresham/Troutdale/East County. I'd accidentally typoed and corrected Easy County, but that's probably more appropriate than the nom de real. Instead of waking up next to an ugly chick, I again woke up next to a bunch of Jack in the Box taco wrappers. I can't tell which is worse. I've started walking/jogging for an hour every other day and then I drink four hours worth of exercise away. I think Tarzan said it best when he said "Um-gawa." I think we're going to barbecue today. Sweet. Went to the Maxim party and brought sand to the beach in the form of three hot chicks. They got in an argument and before you knew it our whirlwind evening ended with me and my friend on his couch watching Insomniac with Dave Attel wondering "what the fuck just happened." At the Maxim Party I did run into a girl that went psycho on me a few nights earlier. She sat there looking sorta hot but with that same psycho look on her face saying "are you mad at me... you probably don't want to see me again..." I do, but only in that dress. If I had a rabbit, she'd probably boil it. I'm going to throw up now... I'm ending every sentence with ellipses... Can you imagine the old days when people had to blog on typewriters? I still can't feel my face. I'm going to lie back down. GOOCH:stupid.
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