This is fucking priceless. Just when I thought that I was sick of the increasing ubiquity of cameras, stuff like this happens.

There should have been a camera rolling yesterday when I tried pumping a new bottle of Chloraseptic into my mouth. I looked at the nozzle as I was still squeezing the pump and a blast of the oral anesthetic hit me in the eye. Stupid? Yes. Funny? You betcha.

To the left to the left is Meghan McCain. She's rich and looks like a lot of girls I dated in the 90s. Her Father and I have a lot in common. For example, he was a POW in Vietnam and I watched Rambo II some 30 times when it was released on VHS. I'm still pissed that Jenna Bush, my substance abusing soul mate got hitched. All I need to do is impregnate one of these broads and I'll never have to work again. Fuck... I'll hire someone to write this site for me. My instructions: "Make it funny. Not too funny... I still want people thinking that I'm writing it."

Great... I haven't even published this blog and already Chelsea Clinton is texting me. My response: WNT U 2 QUT TXTNG ME ITS OVR.

All caps? Yeah... I went there.

Where are the Gore sisters when I need them?

Heh. I woke up my cat so that I could take a picture of her in the kitty condo. I'm recovering from a variety of debilitating symptoms. All painful, none sexy. The collective maladies have rendered it difficult to talk, type, eat, drink, or, you know, do it. These five things are what make the difference between "Gooch" and "The Gooch." I'm bed resting, taking vitamins, watching reruns, elevating my head, doing neck stretches, and crying myself to sleep. I will emerge stronger than before. I will come back with the stamina to disappoint two or three women at a time, instead of just one. I will learn to type one-handed. I will... fuck it. it hurts too much to type.

goochout

I was totally going to congratulate you about refraining from writing about masturbation for one whole blog, and then here you go again.... - Sarah (Tigard, OR)

Apologies to my readers who feel that "the tug" has taken up too much of my subject matter. I assure you that I spend more time writing about it than actually doing it.

I think.

In other news, I experimented on a barbecue recipe I learned from Q-Ball last night and it was a success. Basically, you barbecue live oysters, shuck them, top with a barbecue/hoisin sauce, top with cheese and green onions, and serve. It seems kind of fucked up in that I had to work to keep the oysters alive long enough so that I could kill them with my barbecue. Is there anything more sadistic? Why don't I go ahead and name them while I'm at it? I'm like the Hitler of the bi-valve world.

I'm going to get a machine like the one on the left [see picture] and retrofit it for oysters. Maybe I'll get a bigger claw and open the first live veal restaurant. I wouldn't need much room. The first veal restaurant and the first restaurant opened in a studio apartment. All sorts of groundbreaking culinary innovations coming out of Camp Gooch.

Currently listening to: "Rio" by Duran Duran Currently procrastinating: "working out"

Gooch Interesting Fact: Gooch face-blocked Rocky Dennis at blind camp during the seventies. They changed the story for "dramatic and accuracy" reasons. You heard it here first.

I've gotta go.

gooch:out

P.S.: When I die, could someone make sure that my head stone reads "gooch:out" ? I think it'd be totally sweet.

Face-blocked?

When he was simply John Gallucci (1983).

Got a goal last night during a soccer match. It was cool.

I watched a bit of "Knocked Up" this morning. I was going to jerk off to Katherine Hiegl, but it occurred to me that someone else at that very moment was probably jerking off to her. It weirded me out. I guess I wanted her just for myself. Chronic masturbators who worry about that sort of thing should, you know, have a massive internet-posted schedule of chicks to jerk off to. Like a mental library where you can "check out" a girl and the other guys have to promise not to think about that girl for that allotted time.

"Bill... you look horrible. Did you sleep last night?"

"No, man. I could only get Katherine Hiegl during the 4:30-5am time slot."

"Ouch... that sucks. That reminds me, I've got a noon to 12:30 with Pamela Anderson."

"Nice! I'm gonna try to get Katie Couric for 8-8:30pm tonight."

"What the fuck?"

I'm not a role model. I'm not boyfriend material.

Visited Q-Ball at his new place of employment: Cocktails and Dreams at 3620 SE 35th Pl. Portland, OR 97202 / (503) 238-7787. It used to be a bowling alley I frequented as a kid and it's behind the Original Taco House on Powell. They have video poker, a pool table, and an air hockey table. They also have a decent couch dance area.

cheesiness:acknowledged.

gooch:out.

Eh...

Been a really bad procrastinator lately. I've got a new schedule which lends itself to pissing away the morning. I'm squeezing 30 minutes of administrative work into a two hour time allotment.

Note to software developers: The easier you try to make your software with 'wizards' and what not makes it harder for those of us that actually know what we're doing to use your products.

I used my barbecue for the first time this summer last night. Chicken skewers, corn, potato salad, and mashed potatoes. I'm still cleaning the mashed potatoes out of the barbecue.

"Gooch," you ask, "what's that on your desk?" It's a USB powered beverage cooler. I got it from Gregster a couple birthdays ago. Kickass!


UPDATE: The freaking IRS came by my house at 8:40am this morning. I guess you need to respond to those notices. Fuck! All's good, just a misunderstanding. Have you ever opened the door before and had a badge in your face? Not my thing. As soon as my balls fall out of my chest, I'm going to the gym.

goochout.

I found a Commodore 64 emulator and haven't looked back since. This could be the geekiest thing I've spent time on. The game pictured above is from the game "Karateka." Other games I've played have been "Ghostbusters," "Bruce Lee," and of course "Raid on Bungeling Bay."

Load "goochout",8,1
LOADING
READY
RUN

American Pie (the movie) is already nine years old? Time flies.

The price of Viagra has gone up considerably. I remember paying $13/100mg and now it's up to $22? I'm going to start to have to only bang hot chicks.

It's so hot in this office that I can't even jerk off in front of the computer like I'm accustomed to. I don't have any media players hooked up to the bedroom (air conditioned) and print media just will not do it anymore.

Currently playing on my iTunes: Meat Loaf's "Bat out of Hell."

Watched the new Indiana Jones movie last night. Good movie... got a little far fetched toward the end. I was entertained, which is what's most important. Karen Allen hasn't done much since the 80s. Right now she's hoping that a Starman or Animal House sequel is in the works.

Quotes of the Week:

"I get to be George Michael because I can feather my hair... you get to be Andrew Ridgely because you have dark hair and a low voice. Now... say 'jitterbug' so I can start snapping my fingers" - Overheard in a gay guy's bedroom

"No... you be Lacey this time. Why should you always be Cagney?" - Overheard in a lesbian's bedroom

Back to my fortress of solitude.

goochout