I've been sick since Tuesday. Theraflu has not been kind to me with regards to sleeping. when I wake up sweating with my bedding balled up and thrown across the room during some mid-sleep fit of rage, I like to spend the time watching documentaries.

HBO has been showing a freakin' slough of drug documentaries. I've learned a lot from these films.

I've learned that you can shoot up any drug. Anything can be melted in a spoon, pulled into a syringe, and shot into your arm/foot/ass/neck. I've taken a bunch of vitamins and Airbornes during the last few days. Maybe I could shoot up vitamins? Maybe instead of dissolving Airborne, a immune system booster, into a glass of hot water, I can melt it down into a spoon and shoot it into my arm. The ultimate irony, of course, would be that I catch AIDS from a dirty needle while mainlining an immune system booster.

I'm fucked up on DayQuil as we speak. Actually it's generic Dayquil; the real stuff has mescalene in it, I think. I'm not saying that I've taken a ton of DayQuil, but I will say that I now have the urination timing patterns of an 83-year-old man. Why does it stop in mid stream? Fuck.

Well, this is bullshit. I can't sleep. The Theraflu wore off at about 2am. I was riddled with nightmares. I've learned a lot though, since I've been up: My neighbor fires up his big obnoxious, loud truck at 3:30am; Family Guy comes on at 3am, the newspaper delivery guy hucks my paper as far away from my front door as possible at 4am, and infomercials piss me off. Do I really pay this much for cable to see commercials? Am I paying, at this specific moment, to see a fucking commercial?

I've also learned that drugs are bad, Mythbusters is a kick ass show, and Theraflu isn't a substitute for dinner, which I forgot to eat last night.

I don't feel well. I'm sick again. I should be reading something educational, but honestly I'm alternating watching Curb Your Enthusiasm, Entourage, and the occassional Sopranos.

I'm also checking out different porn sites. Not to which to jerk off, but just what the hell is out there. There's all sorts of porn: pregnant, interracial, midget, etc. No small penis porn, though. Apparently there's demand for dwarf fucking, but not guys with small penises. Pregnant chicks squirting milk from their breasts, but no small penises. A complete misrepresentation. There is no demand for small penises, gay or straight. If you have a small penis, you're fucked.

Well, not likely. Anyways...

I despise personal trainers who are fat. That's the same as a mechanic showing up late for work because his car broke down or a computer technician apologizing for not sending an email because he couldn't figure out how to configure a pop account. Fat doctors are sort of as bad... but personal trainers with a gut have no business doing what they're doing. "Do as I say, not as I do" does NOT apply in the real world.

Oh, and to fat kids out there: The teasing and getting picked on does not go away as you get older. Put the bottle of Coke and the Mars bar down. I just lost thirty pounds pretty quickly (Not as quickly as I gained 60 a while back). I told my friend to stop the car and let me out so that I wouldn't ding the door trying to get out while parked in a tight spot. I also sometimes have a pang of distress when I get called to go up stairs in an office; even though I walk up eight stories of stairs a day to get to my car. It's like I forget sometimes. You think that it would be a good thing, like it would be a pleasant surprise that I can fit into a certain pair of jeans or jog or walk up a flight of stairs. It actually pisses me off that I let myself get to a certain point. I can blame it on a medication, but ultimately I am the one to blame. I guess it's some sort of Sisyphusian endeavor on my part, losing weight only to gain more than I lost and then lose that weight. It's like giving myself an ever growing goal to accomplish. It's bullshit.

I want a cheeseburger. Maybe pizza.

In the meantime I'm high on Thereflu night time, and Airborne night time. Night time stuff is good. Daytime stuff is good when you're working. It's a legal high. My eyelids are heavy.

'Lie group E8' math puzzle solved
• Team of researchers solve "Lie group E8" math puzzle
• Problem's proof took researchers four years to find
• If handwritten, the solution would cover the island of Manhattan
• The solution takes up as much space as 45 days of continuous music in MP3 format.

I'll bet those guys kick ASS at Sudoku.


Call me. Gooch.

If you're into shows like Breaking Bonaduce (like I was) or Shooting Sizemore (me not so much), then you should know that they are veritable ripoffs (Shooting Sizemore, specifically) of a documentary called TV Junkie. I caught this on HBO last night and it captured, more or less, the downfall of a television personality as his addiction to crack cocaine cost him his job, his house, and his family.

Rick Kirkham, a news anchor and news magazine host (he was once on Inside Edition) faithfully maintained a video diary. Through the most awkward times (while he's high and the cops are arresting him in front of his family, or while he's makeshifting a crack pipe) he kept the camera rolling. Three-thousand hours of footage was edited down and produced into this documentary. It's the real deal and a rare look into the duality of a successful person with an addiction.

Stalling going to the gym...

I really take issue with the new Fergie video, "Glamorous." The flashback scenes supposedly take place in 1994 where Fergie is either hanging out at a backyard kegger in East Lost Angeles or stealing food from Taco Bell. The video is apparently meant to serve as some sort of reflection of the artist's life growing up and the contrast between then and now.

So in the same year that Stacy Ferguson appears in an episode of Married With Children and ten years after she was in KIDS Incorporated, she's robbing Taco Bell? She's doing backyard keggers in East L.A. with a bunch of white chicks with multi colored headbands and black guys that can't dance?

But now she's hit the big time and she's in a private jet - actually two different jets during the course of the video; funny since she was thrown off a commercial jet last week for being too drunk.

Oh, and she "has money in the bank" and would "really like to thank" her fans, but the overly repeated chant of "If you ain't got no money take your broke ass home" is somewhat a slap in the face, don't you think? The chant doesn't even really make sense in the context of the song, but maybe she stole the line from an old rap song in the hopes that her stupid fans would repeat it to each other and create some sort of buzz. If you listen to the lyrics in any of her songs, they don't make sense - they're exercises in non-sequiturs.


If you ain't got no money take your big jaw home.

From what I've read, her entire album is comprised of loose remakes of other songs, one sampled so much that she stated in an interview:

"I'm going to get no publishing [royalties]," Fergie added with a smile. "I used too many samples! But I love that kind of thing."

No shit. She is also credited for being a writer of Black Eyed Peas "Pump It," essentially a rap over Dick Dale's Misirlou, a song made famous as the opening credit theme to Pulp Fiction. Her song "Fergalicious" is a ripoff of JJ Fad's "Supersonic."

She sucks. She needs to get a jaw reduction and talent implants. I hate her.



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Congratulations to Gregster on getting his new Toyota Camry Hybrid. I think I'm going to get a hybrid car just to see if it'll help me get blow jobs from hippie chicks. Maybe cruise the Wild Oats parking lot or something.

Heh.

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I am not a role model.

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Off to the gym.

You might be the Gooch, if...

You've given a lecture on the ills of drinking while you yourself were still drunk from the night before.

You've turned down sushi for lunch because you already had it for breakfast.

You've urinated in or on any of the following while you were drunk: washing machine full of clothes, the entryway in various buildings, on a surge protector in a stranger's house, a sink, a bush, and/or a car.

You've been too drunk to DJ a strip club, but did so anyways.

You don't believe that sex with strippers should count against your total sex partner count.

You've "showered" with Axe body spray and "done laundry" with Febreze.

You can relate any conversation, any topic, any idea to an episode of South Park.