Back from the Dead

What started out seeming like a hangover (aka... a typical Sunday) turned into what seemed like a flu turned into what seemed like a gay doctor telling me that I do, in fact, have pneumonia. Pneumonia isn't the stuff that they put into Windex. Pneumonia is what I believe to be the code word for "AIDS" whenever a celebrity dies of natural causes at the age of 38.

I spent Monday in bed, casually taking care of some loose ends with work but getting sicker. Mom came over Monday night and stocked my kitchen with club soda, Goldfish and Saltine crackers, and chicken noodle soups o' plenty.

Tuesday morning, I woke up tossing and turning from a dream consisting of a montage of my life for the past year. It wasn't the cool stuff, but more of the stressful piss-me-off stuff. I had a fever and apparently it was giving me sweat-lodgeish dreams and hallucinations, but none of the wisdom for resolution. My cat was eating away at my leftover soup and crackers on the night stand. I didn't eat or drink anything Tuesday. I didn't get out of bed for anything. From my bed, I called and ordered a used washer dryer set. Wednesday it was delivered and installed. I got out of bed only to answer the door and write the check - sort of like Vegas, when I think about it. I didn't eat or drink anything that day either. This helped because I didn't have to go to the bathroom, which meant I didn't have to get out of bed. Genius!

I didn't actually see the washer/dryer until Mom came over to take me to the hospital a few hours later. I was feeling a little better but was, for the most part, not very functional; like my cock on six Jack Daniels.

"You see, Mom, that's Kenny. He dies in every episode."

I stayed with Mom for a couple of nights. Our television viewing habits are different. She likes Hallmark and Lifetime and I still watch a shit ton full of cartoons. I came home today because I felt like using my new washer and dryer, making sure my cat was okay. I'm feeling a lot better, although not really up to going back over this blog and making it coherent. I'm going to go lay down now. Peace. Props to Marty for the Gatorade this afternoon.

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From UrbanDictionary.com:

Upper Decker:
The act of defecating in the upper tank of the toilet. When the next poor unsuspecting person flushes the toilet they get a bowl of beef stew. the upper decker is a weapon of terror and should only be used on people who deserve it.

My friends x-girl friend had a party and she left whith some other dude who looked like the fonz "Heyyy!". So I took it upon myself to leave her an upper decker

Tales from the Gooch Side

I'm sick as fuck today. Was sick yesterday as well. I thought I just had the worst hangover in history, but I woke up this morning after thrashing around from a nightmare. I had some leftover mexican food for breakfast. I think my fever went away. I don't like being sick.

******
A cute girl said to me that "we should go hang out some time." I replied that "We should get a group of people together and hang out." Fat dude: 1; Hot chick; 0.

******
ABC News: NASA Satellites Get 'Counterfeit' Parts; Taxpayers Pay

Where is Nasa getting their parts... a swap meet? "I'll take that 'Louie Vuitton' bag, some of those DVDs of movies that were filmed with a camcorder inside a theater, oh... and some of that solid rocket fuel."

******
I had to abort the most ill fated trip to the coast Saturday. It started snowing hard as I escalated into the mountains on the way to the beach. I was in my little car and feared being stranded, being that I have the survival skills to yield me about 10 minutes in the snow before I succumb to the elements. I almost slid off of the road, as when I tried to pull over to the side of the road, the shoulder quickly disappeared. You know, like the drummer from Def Leppard. Fortunately, I was able to make a U turn and get back to Portland in time to get myself fucked up on booze and strippaz.

Back to bed.

Gooch:Out.





Like the drummer from Def Leppard? You really couldn't wait to crowbar that joke in there, could you?

Leave me alone, I'm sick.

Dude, you are such a a douche.