Also from the guestbook (I need to check it more often) in response to a blog discussing my pouring of appletinis:
Apple-tinis Gooch? That's not metro...it's just gay. Drink a beer and stop being such a mayonaise mouth!
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Roman Polanski is a fucking degenerate child molester/rapist who fled to France to avoid facing charges in the US. Go see Oliver Twist and support this asshole.
In other news, I've lost more weight. I don't even think I meant to. I've eaten crappy foods, just not as much. Moderation: I might learn about it before I turn 50. I'll have to learn about it before I turn 50, because if I don't, I won't see 50. Did that sentence make sense? I mean, I just typed it and now that I'm done with it I don't know if it really captured what I was trying to say.
GOOCH:out
In other news, I've lost more weight. I don't even think I meant to. I've eaten crappy foods, just not as much. Moderation: I might learn about it before I turn 50. I'll have to learn about it before I turn 50, because if I don't, I won't see 50. Did that sentence make sense? I mean, I just typed it and now that I'm done with it I don't know if it really captured what I was trying to say.
GOOCH:out
Friday, September 30, 2005
And from my Guestbook (which I never, ever check)
This is just your recent ex "ho" checking in. Thanks a fucking lot!!!!
Apparently my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend has internet access. That guestbook posting prefaced a 5:31am phone call and a 6:12am visit by her to my house where we drank wine and discussed things for four hours. She didn't like being called a 'ho' on a website. I didn't like her being one while we were together. She returned her ring. We talked, cried, had another glass of wine. It was a good visit. The conclusion was that we still love each other but I'll never, ever forgive her for the shit she did and we'll never, ever, ever get back together again. Hopefully the page can be turned on that chapter in both our lives.
This is just your recent ex "ho" checking in. Thanks a fucking lot!!!!
Apparently my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend has internet access. That guestbook posting prefaced a 5:31am phone call and a 6:12am visit by her to my house where we drank wine and discussed things for four hours. She didn't like being called a 'ho' on a website. I didn't like her being one while we were together. She returned her ring. We talked, cried, had another glass of wine. It was a good visit. The conclusion was that we still love each other but I'll never, ever forgive her for the shit she did and we'll never, ever, ever get back together again. Hopefully the page can be turned on that chapter in both our lives.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Letters to the Predator:
To John "The Gooch" Gallucci:
In the interest of creating a fair and unbiased educational tool for the mass population that is your readership, I feel compelled to take you up on your offer to post replies, commentary, and general bullshit-busting hyperbole on your blog. Usually I can find an intellectual middle-ground between my own beliefs and the ideas you so generously impart to your readers (mostly alcohol-induced, if I understand correctly?). However, I find your recent comments regarding the work atmosphere in a bar/pub/club to be wholly shortsighted and fantastically prejudiced.
In short, you dumb-ass, open your fucking eyes and give the women in the food/drink service industry credit for having half a brain when it comes to being hit on by drunken assholes while on the job. If a chick's a slut, then she'll be a slut whether she gets sweated while working at Target, the post office, Nordstrom or Congress. Just because you were idiot enough to PICK one of those sluts to date, undate, redate, an undate again does NOT mean that you can ascribe the same behavioral patterns that she displayed to female bartenders/cocktailers/waitresses in general. It's the WOMAN, not the JOB you should worry about. Okay, unless she's a hooker.
Pffffft. Tard.
'Kay, love you! Glad your work-out regimen is going well! 9 pounds!!!! That's awesome! Greek Festival this weekend..... mmmmmm.... hummus....
JNAU
Response: You're absolutely right. Apologies to my service industry lady friends. Plus, comments like mine on the blog in question really aren't conducive to me getting laid at all. Neither was that last sentence. Fuck. My postings aren't mostly alcohol induced, merely somewhat alcohol induced as of late. Dammit, JNAU writes better than me. "Fantastically prejudiced?" Love it.
And one more...
Hey! We're just trying to learn the Gooch-way! You're making out with chicks that we only dream about making out with. You're the lucky one, dude! I can't even make out with the bar bitches at Putters on Woodstock! The Gooch-way: It's the only way. (take that one to the bank!) Perhaps us not-making-out-with-hot-chicks guys can learn a few things from the Goochmeister. Oh shit, I've got a girlfriend. Damn, I knew I was forgetting some random, mildly important detail.
GREGSTER: www.thedominoeffect.com
Response: Greg is the person who questioned what good looking girls "saw in me." Please know that for every hot chick that gets drunk and makes out with me, there's like four or five that you'd never, ever see or hear about. It's the law of averages. I make out with average looking chicks like it was a law to do so.
GOOCH:out
To John "The Gooch" Gallucci:
In the interest of creating a fair and unbiased educational tool for the mass population that is your readership, I feel compelled to take you up on your offer to post replies, commentary, and general bullshit-busting hyperbole on your blog. Usually I can find an intellectual middle-ground between my own beliefs and the ideas you so generously impart to your readers (mostly alcohol-induced, if I understand correctly?). However, I find your recent comments regarding the work atmosphere in a bar/pub/club to be wholly shortsighted and fantastically prejudiced.
In short, you dumb-ass, open your fucking eyes and give the women in the food/drink service industry credit for having half a brain when it comes to being hit on by drunken assholes while on the job. If a chick's a slut, then she'll be a slut whether she gets sweated while working at Target, the post office, Nordstrom or Congress. Just because you were idiot enough to PICK one of those sluts to date, undate, redate, an undate again does NOT mean that you can ascribe the same behavioral patterns that she displayed to female bartenders/cocktailers/waitresses in general. It's the WOMAN, not the JOB you should worry about. Okay, unless she's a hooker.
Pffffft. Tard.
'Kay, love you! Glad your work-out regimen is going well! 9 pounds!!!! That's awesome! Greek Festival this weekend..... mmmmmm.... hummus....
JNAU
Response: You're absolutely right. Apologies to my service industry lady friends. Plus, comments like mine on the blog in question really aren't conducive to me getting laid at all. Neither was that last sentence. Fuck. My postings aren't mostly alcohol induced, merely somewhat alcohol induced as of late. Dammit, JNAU writes better than me. "Fantastically prejudiced?" Love it.
And one more...
Hey! We're just trying to learn the Gooch-way! You're making out with chicks that we only dream about making out with. You're the lucky one, dude! I can't even make out with the bar bitches at Putters on Woodstock! The Gooch-way: It's the only way. (take that one to the bank!) Perhaps us not-making-out-with-hot-chicks guys can learn a few things from the Goochmeister. Oh shit, I've got a girlfriend. Damn, I knew I was forgetting some random, mildly important detail.
GREGSTER: www.thedominoeffect.com
Response: Greg is the person who questioned what good looking girls "saw in me." Please know that for every hot chick that gets drunk and makes out with me, there's like four or five that you'd never, ever see or hear about. It's the law of averages. I make out with average looking chicks like it was a law to do so.
GOOCH:out
BREAKING GOOCH
Last night I had one person ask the question "what do these [really attractive] girls see in you." He's referring to the string of make out sessions I've had with known good looking chicks and the ghosts of girlfriends past. Maybe it's alcohol. Who knows. Who cares. I'm not a bad looking guy... what the fuck?
Another guy questioned how I make a living at what I do with the little experience I have in the field. "How do you have your own company with all these customers?" Answer: Google. I have an artificial knowledge base in Google. When the customer isn't looking, I do a search in Google. NTLDR is missing? What does that mean...? Google that shit, yo.
Another was telling me what a 'ho' my recent ex-girlfriend was. Um, well yeah. Got me there.
Another guy was talking about how little the person that beat the shit out of me last month was.
Hey, that's great you guys. It's hard enough being a living, breathing legend without random people questioning my livelihood, manhood, and um... screw you guys.
Last night I had one person ask the question "what do these [really attractive] girls see in you." He's referring to the string of make out sessions I've had with known good looking chicks and the ghosts of girlfriends past. Maybe it's alcohol. Who knows. Who cares. I'm not a bad looking guy... what the fuck?
Another guy questioned how I make a living at what I do with the little experience I have in the field. "How do you have your own company with all these customers?" Answer: Google. I have an artificial knowledge base in Google. When the customer isn't looking, I do a search in Google. NTLDR is missing? What does that mean...? Google that shit, yo.
Another was telling me what a 'ho' my recent ex-girlfriend was. Um, well yeah. Got me there.
Another guy was talking about how little the person that beat the shit out of me last month was.
Hey, that's great you guys. It's hard enough being a living, breathing legend without random people questioning my livelihood, manhood, and um... screw you guys.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier.
It's 5:16am, but I've just woke up and not just gotten home, which is the circumstance under which we usually find each other at this time in the morning. I'm actually waiting for the gym to open.
I woke up early. I'm not tossing and turning, as evidenced by the sheets still in place on my bed. I have been drooling a lot in my sleep lately. Work has been stressfull. Plus, the Ashlee Simpson/Jessica Simpson which-would-I-sleep-with debate rages on inside my head. I like Ashlee's heavy eyeliner; it suggests a sort of a rebelliousness that would allow her to drink a couple of Zimas and have sex with me just to piss off her psycho Dad. After I saw Ashlee's "Boyfriend" video on MTV this morning, I saw Jessica Simpson on a ProActiv acne medicine infomercial. I couldn't even get a boner to it.
Trust me: if anyone can jerk off to an infomercial, it's me.
Geez, I just checked the gym website. They opened at 4:30am. I thought they opened at 6:30. I'm out!
It's 5:16am, but I've just woke up and not just gotten home, which is the circumstance under which we usually find each other at this time in the morning. I'm actually waiting for the gym to open.
I woke up early. I'm not tossing and turning, as evidenced by the sheets still in place on my bed. I have been drooling a lot in my sleep lately. Work has been stressfull. Plus, the Ashlee Simpson/Jessica Simpson which-would-I-sleep-with debate rages on inside my head. I like Ashlee's heavy eyeliner; it suggests a sort of a rebelliousness that would allow her to drink a couple of Zimas and have sex with me just to piss off her psycho Dad. After I saw Ashlee's "Boyfriend" video on MTV this morning, I saw Jessica Simpson on a ProActiv acne medicine infomercial. I couldn't even get a boner to it.
Trust me: if anyone can jerk off to an infomercial, it's me.
Geez, I just checked the gym website. They opened at 4:30am. I thought they opened at 6:30. I'm out!