I've decided that Tai-Chi was originally developed as a method of self defense against really slow attackers. I mean, if you're on the street and someone pulls a knife on you, gently bringing your crooked arm across your face while looking off to the horizon is going to get you stabbed quicker (if not just your ass kicked). If you get attacked in a nursing home, however, tai-chi is your best bet.


This punch is an effective Tai-Chi defense against attackers in wheelchairs.

Gooch-san: out

konichiwa, bitches.

I've played about ten games of soccer in my adult life and finally, last night, I made a goal.

A player that normally scores 90% of the time on the field (but not off, because he's a Mormon... heh) lofted the ball up to me as I lightly kicked the ball sideways with the outside of my foot. The ball gingerly entered the goal... the whole event appeared to occur in slow motion. Not because of the excitement of the event - it's just that any athleticism I engage in just looks slower than real life. I wasn't feeling self congratulatory until the whistle blew and the scoreboard lit up a point.

So now I'm entering day one of some detox... diet... vegetarian sorta... Okay. I have a bowl full of various greenery in the office fridge and that, my friends, is lunch. It looks like someone mowed a nasty looking lawn and poured the catcher into a tupperware bowl, sprinkled olive oil and flaxseed, and said "bon apetit, bitch." It's okay. I need to detox. My sweat smells like Jack Daniels, Red Bull, and stripper perfume. And it glows in the dark.

Congratulations to Gregster for his impending nuptuals.

G

I woke up with some painful morning wood this morning. At 5pm I awoke from some bizarre dream of a completely nonsexual nature with a raging priapismesque boner and rushed to my porn machine laptop computer to relieve the painful situation but was too tired to even rub one out. I used my brain to think about non-boner inducing concepts like marriage, family, commitment, gainful employment, etc... and it went away. I ended up going to the gym and getting a decent workout.

I'll be freaking exhausted by this afternoon and tonight's New Years? Last year I made out with a strange girl in public, almost got into a fight, and drank at a bonfire kegger where I'm sure some of the attendees were not of age. I haven't lived like that since high school.

It is almost 8am. I just read the last blog and I apologize. Sometimes I type what I'm thinking at the moment whether or not it is relevant to you, the reader. I think the bumper sticker thing is important for you to know, because you'll be buying them from a website soon. I don't think that knowing I'm going to buy a tower computer (maybe if I rattled off specs or somthing?) will help you get through the day. Some of my paragraphs come from the "Who Gives a Shit?" department here at the Gooch Compound. It's the source of where everything I say to my girlfriend comes from as well.

Oh, and that Marlee Matlin reference... pretty obscure, eh? The movie idea is comedy gold. I'm thinking the Wayans Brothers should take it on.

Fuck, today is going to be boring.

Happy New Years. Comment to this post what your resolution is and I'll post it.

me:out


priapismesque?

As always... any materials you wish to send or any comments which you wish to bestow upon me... can be sent to:
gooch@goochonline.com

I've got some more bumper stickers in the works. Being checked by the printers as I write this. I've got a couple really boring jobs lined up this week. I swear to god I've created a career of watching computer progress bars go from left to right. That's what I have to look forward to tomorrow.

Thinking about getting a new tower for the office and relegating the laptop to living room/on site duties.

For Christmas, I got a pair of nice (read: nicer than I'd ever buy myself) running shoes and an iPod that receives signals from the shoes indicating distance, time, pace, etc. These are two things I truly wanted for Christmas, but giving me a pair of nice running shoes is like giving Stevie Wonder a Porsche. It'll be fun to watch at first, but won't last too long.

Someone should make a movie about a rich blind entertainer who makes millions of dollars, but his management team figures they can scam him by taking $100,000 for a Rolls Royce and really buying a$6000 used Cadillac with a Rolls Royce head piece duct taped to the hood. Instead of a Mansion, the team puts treadmills into the floor of the hallways of a small apartment to make it seem like the room's bigger. They take him to Applebees and tell him it's Morton's... all the while pocketing the extra cash. You could make a whole movie based on these highjinks.

Gotta go now... I have to read a thank you note I just got from Marlee Matlin. I sent her an iPod Shuffle for Christmas.



goochout.