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.

From an advertisement (Click HERE for the actual ad):

So give yourself an upper decker with the Top Deck Tech Station from High Speed PC...trust me, you won't regret it!

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.

I'm Lovin' it... Indeed.

This is the recording of the 911 call from a woman who ordered McNuggets from McDonalds. They didn't have McNuggets, so she (naturally) called the police. I'm guessing she was on her way home from a MENSA meeting when she stopped for the ill-fated transaction.

G

Commodore?

I don't know why I like this girl. Maybe it's her eyes. Oh, I know, it's her enormous cans.

Oh my God... it's (been) back (but not in its original incarnation, just in name and Java based games online)!

Commodore Gaming

Monday, Monday...

Gemma Atkinson. I guess they're supposed to be real. Nice.

"You're funnier in real life than on your blog." - Anonymous

I downloaded the new U2 album today in under six minutes. I guess it's not supposed to be released until tomorrow.

From a CNN article about the album:

By the way, the album eventually did leak -- through a supposed record label glitch in Australia. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank God they traced it to someone's desk in Australia...

Have to deal with paperworky type stuff today. Maybe a little negotiationy stuff as well. I hate this stuff.

I have nothing to report from the weekend. Friday: Watched "Gran Torino" which was good. "RocknRolla" was hard to understand. Saturday: Went to a friend's birthday. Met a couple girls. Pretty standard, really. Yadda yadda yadda... got home at 3am. Have a date for this week. And not one of those "Oh they're best friends and they always hang out together" dates, or a "They used to be boyfriend and girlfriend and now they're the best of friends" dates, or a "Look at that drunk chick hanging all over that fat drunk guy at the bar" dates. Nope, it's a real "go to dinner, buy some drinks, awkward make out session in a small car" date.

I'll try to find some adventure this week; get some new material to write about.

Peace.

gooch

Nothing like a big set of cans to salvage a shitty post, eh?

Douchebag of the Day

Mayor who sent watermelon e-mail says he'll resign

I felt bad about this Mayor... I was lamenting the loss of a career from a stupid email forwarding. Then I read this line:

Grose said he didn't mean to offend anyone and claimed he was unaware of the racial stereotype linking black people with eating watermelons.

Wow... all that loss of credibility with one sentence. So he forwarded a picture that made absolutely no sense to him? Douche!

I think some jokes involving stereotypes are hysterical. In fact, I'm going to start dancing arythmically with my top teeth over my lower lip to ABBA once I'm done typing this.

Mamma Mia Motherfuckers!

goochout

No, I don't think the Obamas are just another black family living in government housing.

He died doing what he loved...

Man, 28, Dies After 'Guzzling' Viagra During 12-Hour Romp

Two chicks at the same time with the aid of Viagra? Where do I sign up? I almost did two girls at the same time after I took Viagra. What happened? Yadda yadda yadda... sitting in bed by myself watching an episode of Family Guy over my sheet covered Viagra fueled erection.

True story, I'm afraid.

I have to buy new pants before I go to a funeral today (or lose 20 pounds in three hours). Is there any girl out there that would blow me if I lost 30 pounds? I think I need that carrot at the end of the stick (so to speak) to get myself into dating weight. Married women are disqualified. Unless they're hot, and the husband is small or disabled in some way that he is unable to squeeze a trigger.

Come on! What the fuck is some dude personal trainer going to do for me? Blow job: my ticket to fitness!

goochout