Ahhh... fucking Friday. Hung out with some friends last night. Thursday is such a wild card for me. I'm either watching The Office with a girl, drinking with a couple of friends, having wine at my ex-girlfriend's place of employment, or having dinner and drinks at Pal's Shanty and sleeping at my office. Last night yielded a trip to Vegas, as a friend needed someone to go with her to a wedding. I'm pumped. Last time I was in Vegas it was for eight days and I had to pace myself. A weekend spree should be dangerous. Dangerously fun!
Going to the Gym. Weighing in today. I wasn't good with the diet this week, so this is a punitive weigh in. Wish me luck.
Sorry for the idle, personal babble. I'm waiting to get really, really annoyed with the following topics:
Fergie as a musician
Larry Seidlin as a judge.
It'll be one cathartic blog.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
I just realized that I have several blogs in "draft" status on the Blogger console. These are blogs that I started and never finished or published because they were either too stupid, too boring, or too incriminating to publish in a public forum. Me and Britta on Fat Tuesday, a business dinner with my Father, me and a stripper or two, etc. You start writing and then after a few paragraphs realize that no one's going to give a shit. So I stop. I think I'll go through and publish them as they are for shits and giggles.
I slept on my couch last night. Again. I fell asleep at 9:30 after eating a bowl of cereal for dinner. I was effing exhausted.
Well, my lunch burrito is finished. Back to work.
goochout.
I slept on my couch last night. Again. I fell asleep at 9:30 after eating a bowl of cereal for dinner. I was effing exhausted.
Well, my lunch burrito is finished. Back to work.
goochout.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
I'm in such a happy place right now. Sometimes, I like to take a snapshot of a place and time and post it on this blog. I'm in my freshly made bed. A double shot of Family Guy has just come on. I've got almost a (if not a full) bottle of wine in my gut. My first job tomorrow is at 10am. I'm gonna sleep now.
Read the blog below and make a comment as to what you'd do in that situation. Good night.
Read the blog below and make a comment as to what you'd do in that situation. Good night.
True Portland Stories
As retold by Gooch.
A man and woman go out on a first date. Drinks, dinner, a stroll - it was a perfect evening. So perfect that the man invited the woman over to his house and she stayed the night.
The next morning she awoke. The man was getting dressed and she started to get up and do the same.
"Oh... don't worry - sleep in if you want" the man offered. "Stay as long as you want, make yourself some coffee, there's breakfast stuff in the fridge, make yourself at home. The door will lock itself when you leave."
So she did. She slept in and when she got up she went to the bathroom to take [as was told to me] a "major shit." She did so and when she flushed the toilet it clogged and started to overflow. She couldn't find a plunger anywhere so she stuck her hand into a tall kitchen bag and reached in to clear the offensive obstacle. She inverted the bag and placed that bag of excrement into another bag, tied it up and set it aside so that she could throw it out in a public dumpster outside.
She meticulously went through the bathroom to make sure that it looked as though she hadn't even used it. She washed up and walked out to the kitchen where she saw that the man left a note saying that he'd had a wonderful time and looked forward to seeing her again. She too, had a great time and was indeed eager to go out with the man again. She wrote a response saying so. Then, as it was time for her to leave, she grabbed her things and hurried out the door. The door that locked behind her, automatically as she'd been told.
She'd forgotten one thing. The bag of shit that she'd set aside. The bag of shit that she'd set aside on the kitchen counter. The bag of shit that she'd set aside on the kitchen counter next to the note. She panicked, but couldn't figure out what to do. So, she left.
He hasn't called her.
As retold by Gooch.
A man and woman go out on a first date. Drinks, dinner, a stroll - it was a perfect evening. So perfect that the man invited the woman over to his house and she stayed the night.
The next morning she awoke. The man was getting dressed and she started to get up and do the same.
"Oh... don't worry - sleep in if you want" the man offered. "Stay as long as you want, make yourself some coffee, there's breakfast stuff in the fridge, make yourself at home. The door will lock itself when you leave."
So she did. She slept in and when she got up she went to the bathroom to take [as was told to me] a "major shit." She did so and when she flushed the toilet it clogged and started to overflow. She couldn't find a plunger anywhere so she stuck her hand into a tall kitchen bag and reached in to clear the offensive obstacle. She inverted the bag and placed that bag of excrement into another bag, tied it up and set it aside so that she could throw it out in a public dumpster outside.
She meticulously went through the bathroom to make sure that it looked as though she hadn't even used it. She washed up and walked out to the kitchen where she saw that the man left a note saying that he'd had a wonderful time and looked forward to seeing her again. She too, had a great time and was indeed eager to go out with the man again. She wrote a response saying so. Then, as it was time for her to leave, she grabbed her things and hurried out the door. The door that locked behind her, automatically as she'd been told.
She'd forgotten one thing. The bag of shit that she'd set aside. The bag of shit that she'd set aside on the kitchen counter. The bag of shit that she'd set aside on the kitchen counter next to the note. She panicked, but couldn't figure out what to do. So, she left.
He hasn't called her.