Amy, my girlfriend, visited this site last night. She was cool with it; a few entries didn't sit well, but otherwise she thought it was good.

She didn't think that the David Blaine spoofs were funny. I've learned to appreciate differences in senses of humor in a relationship. I dated a girl once who didn't think Chappele's "Rick James" skit was funny. I really think it's corny to blog about relationships and even typing the word "girlfriend" makes me feel boring.

I didn't do shit last night. I bought some Sparks and watched Miami Vice. Then I watched Amy read my site. Then we watched my favorite South Park episode, "Scott Tenorman Must Die."

Working all day today. My first task is to find a motherboard manufacturer that makes a mobo with five ISA slots. This would be easier if I had a DeLorean and a Huey Lewis soundtrack.

Wow, nerdy and obscure. I kick ass.

goochout

It's often mentioned in front of her, but never shown to her. I'm talking about this website and my girlfriend. I had a girlfriend when I started this site back in 1999 and decided not to show it to her for a number of reasons. For one, neither one of us wanted her associated with a bunch of tired, bad, inappropriate jokes. If I'm going to be an idiot on the internet, it doesn't mean I have to make her look like one, too.

No girl I've dated, except for one, reads my site on a regular basis. Some of this stuff is funny, unless you're romantically involved with me (read the Breakup Column, the Everything I Learned... Porn, post, the Porn Star Era pictures). It's best to separate the two worlds.

Now, however, worlds will collide. The girlfriend du moment is saying she wants to read this site. I should generate a phone website with a blog full of excerpts copied and pasted from the Dr. Laura site.

Or something.

We'll see how it goes.

goochout

Here's a Myspace Profile that everyone can enjoy: Click HERE to see it.

I should know by now that if I think something I write is offensive and even think about taking it down, then it will be loved by the people who read this site daily. The "Porn" entry a couple of posts ago proved that I can not only be absurdly distasteful, but somewhat entertaining.

Arctic Circle was a staple of my fat-kid diet during the eighties. The lime-rickeys, the fry sauce, the mushroom burgers, the failed health inspections... a culinary experience worthy of the lunch money that hadn't yet been stolen from me during the school day.

The Arctic Circles in Portland closed up and moved to "family oriented communities," which meant they relocated to hick fucking towns that don't seem to mind a dirty kitchen. However, one returned to Portland just down the street from Montego's, where I sometimes DJ. The AC is calling to me. Right now, as I write this, I want to go indulge in childhood memories and drink the fry sauce right out of the tub. I want to drink a lime rickey (fuck Diet Coke). I want to order a huge burger, tell myself I'm only going to eat half, then eat the whole fucking thing anyways.

Um, off to the gym.

fuck.

goochout.

I bought a $13 set of headphones and was given the opportunity to purchase a "protection" plan in case the headphones should fail. The price of this protection plan was $6. That can't make sense to anyone and the salesman actually kept a straight face while offering this to me.

I should have punched him. If I knew how to throw a punch.

goochout.

All I really need to know about sex I learned from watching porn:

Girls like it when you shoot a load in their face. The more the better. This technique also eliminates the need to use a condom during sex.

Jazz music always leads to sex.

Women like anal sex more than they would really lead you to believe. You should try to integrate it into every intimate encounter you have.

While receiving oral sex, put your hand on the back of the girl's head. It shows her that you really appreciate her efforts.

Hot girls with big fake breasts love fat guys with hairy backs.

******

End of the month. Lots of paperwork to do. It's too nice outside to work. I will anyways.

goochout.

I crashed at Nikki's house last night. I found some pictures on her computer. Here's a few.

Look at the furry rat. Look at the thing crawling on his neck.

Look at my big, dopey, fat fucking head.


Look at my big, dopey, thinner fucking head. Taken six months after the picture above.

The girl with large fake breasts did not know I was grabbing them in this pic.


Nikki's Graduation. That's not Jeb Bush on the left.

That's Jeb Bush.


Me with two girls in a friend's hot tub circa 2005. Gratuitous? Irrelevant?

You betcha.

Gooch:Out