It takes a nation of millions to hold me back.

Followers:

What is improv? Is it when people get on stage and are given a situation and asked to act shit out? Someone randomly said last night that I should do it... on stage. I think someone else said something like that last week to me as well. It's more comfortable trying to be funny on the internet, or when I'm drunk and nervous in social situations. Also, improv sounds like it has all of the makings to be unfunny and disastrous. Who knows, maybe I'll try to do something funny in front of the general public. For now, drunk and in an effort to get laid is when I'll most likely bring the funny.

I am a man who tries shit just to try it.

Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of my not having a real job.

I need coffee.

See? There's nothing funny about this post. It's because I'm sober.

goochout.

We have nothing to fear, except Gooch himself.

Sluts:

My friend just found out that his girlfriend is having a boy. They use ultrasound to figure this out. The pregnant mother-to-be, the expecting father, and the doctor watch a screen while moving the ultrasound wand around the pregnant belly. All three eagerly watch the screen like a female cast member of Jersey Shore (and I'm sure at least one of the male cast members): Looking for cock.

My parents used ultrasound to determine my sex. Unfortunately they had to wait until I was eight years old to figure it out. My penis was so small that the doctor held the wand up to my groin and once they found something that resembled a penis, my parents didn't have to dress me in those gender-neutral Ellen Degeneres pant suits any longer.

As spring progresses, I'm starting to date again. It's my season. I like being single, but I also like buying meals and drinks for random chicks in the hopes that they'll have sex with me. The bedroom is refreshed: Mini fridge with refreshing morning after beverages (Plan B pills are being shipped to me from India as I write this), Wall hangings are (unlike me) hung. Any movie that I can get my pirating hands is available on demand to the televisions via a media server. I can bang, rehydrate, and watch a first run movie without leaving the bedroom. This is the world I want to live in.

Did anyone else jerk off to Lindsay Vonn during the Olympic Skiing thing? Holy shit. If I was only allowed to tie her up, stuff her in the trunk of my car, and drive around town... it would be the most sexually satisfying thing I'd ever done. And most romantic.

I've been eating and drinking myself back into morbid obesity. I'm leaving now to go to the gym.

gooch:out.

There's more than one way to kill a boner...

Depression and suicide are nothing to joke about. Having said that, here are some Facebook updates I didn't publish due to poor taste:

"Andrew "Boner" Koenig committed suicide. I wonder how he killed himself. Maybe he doused himself in whiskey. After all, whiskey has killed many of my boners."

And you can fill in the semi-comedic blanks with anything that stifles an erection:

"Andrew "Boner" Koenig committed suicide. I wonder how he killed himself. Maybe he had a girl ask him for a commitment. Commitment, after all,  has killed many of my boners."

Laughs-ahoy!

On my way to an awesome weekend. I'm going to handle a few basic chores and handle a few basic bill payments. A couple parties, a workout, barbecue, booze, and a few naps. These are what keep me, the King of all Mediocrity, happy.

Shalom, bitches.

goochout.

Gooch Retreat

Subjects:

Tanith Belbin: She makes the act of watching ice dancing not quite as gay as blowing your football coach. It's still close.

It's spring again. I've begun what women call "nesting." I've set up video streaming to the living room and the bedroom so that I can watch pirated movies immediately after they've been shoved through my torrent client. I've also moved my mini fridge back into the bedroom and filled it with boxed white wine (easy to dispense), beer, wine coolers, bottled water, and Gatorade. I love the bedroom fridge. Now, when a girl asks for water in the morning, I don't have to walk all the way downstairs to the kitchen. Also, I won't get yelled at when I try to get water from the bathroom (closer to the bedroom). Now all I need is a bus ticket dispenser ("be sure to validate that thing at the Max station!") or one of those RadioCab direct-call phones like they used to have in bars and I'll be set.

Shalom, bitch.

gooch

Dear Gooch:

Crackatolas:

So I ended up going with the "hand" idea on Facebook. Was a tough call... I'd taken a few pictures with different things representing my Valentine "sweetheart" but nothing struck me as funny/appropriate for full public digestion (I've got customers, family, and family friends among my bloated 450+ friends).

[click to enlarge]

Just got back from the Coast. I like it there. It always mellows me out, which does not bode well for the "upandattem"necessary for me to start the day. It's 8:14 -I've been up for an hour and want to take a nap already.

goochout.

Valentines Day chafes my balls.

I'm actually leaving town tonight to go to an "anti" Valentines day party far from here.

One of the gay Facebook Themes lately is this gem of a "copy and paste" update:

♥ Valentine week ♥ , so change you profile pic to you and your sweetheart, and tell us how long you have been together!

I've been waffling between taking a picture of my hand next to my face, or one of my "porn star" (like Jenna Jameson, above) pictures from ten years ago and posting it with that post.

Oh, I'm starting to find Facebook unintuitive. I'm posting stuff on it, but not finding it worth the effort to try and read other people's posts.

Going to try to milk some more espresso from the perfectly tamped grounds I got my first cup from this morning. Today had best move swiftly and awesomely.

goochout.

Kim Kardashian is a Fucking Puke

The only thing KK has ever, ever done worth watching. Okay, that I've watched. More than once.

I've had enough of this broad. If you took away her famous accessory-to-murder-ala-OJ-lawyer-now-burning-in-hell Father, she'd be a stripper in a shallow grave somewhere. She's so fucking annoying. She has a sex video. She has a sex video where a guy pisses on her. How do you date a chick like that? Seriously, I know that I'm sitting alone in a condo beating off until my bedsheets look like someone melted a candle on them, but at least I have some fucking dignity. I could never date a girl that has a publicly available video of some dude pissing on her. She doesn't even seem to be that good in bed.

So Reggie Bush gets his time to shine after winning the SuperBowl and during an interview, this bullshit occurs? Like anyone watching the game gives a fuck about what a Kartrashian has to say? You can see her and her famewhore mother lurking in the background like little fame vultures. Oh, my God. Are there no more murdering cult leaders in the Los Angeles area available? Where's Susan Atkins and Leslie Van Houten when you need them? [Too obscure? Google it. Asshole.]

If you're bulimic and just finished a Thanksgiving dinner, fast forward to 4:50... and you're welcome.



She contributes nothing to the interview. If you think for two seconds about what she actually says, it's nothing - It's just her clamoring for attention wherever she can get it.

goochout.