It's 6am and I'm lying in bed (or is it laying in bed? I guess laying is what I do in bed and lying in bed is what I do afterwards (I'll call you!)). What the fuck am I talking about? Hung out with some female friends last night. I have too many female friends. Maybe I'm secretly building up the numbers of females I surround myself with so that I increase the chances of one of them slipping up and having sex with me.

I'm a pig.

Is Gwen Stefani a fucking alien? She used to be the cute "Just a Girl" chick with the Adidas pants and now she's some bizarre pop star with plastic hair and pet Asian girls. Fucking creepy.

I'm hungry. I've been going to the gym a lot and I feel better physically and have regained some of the confidence I lost with a medication related massive weight gain. over the last year. That said, I don't want anyone to think that I enjoy running in place, putting large metal weights over my head, getting up at 6am, or eating healthy. Jack Daniels needs to make a nutrition drink.

U2 video: I love U2. They've found their pop niche and are thriving in it. This video is the best thing on TV right now:



If there was a goth chick beauty pageant, Amy Lee from Evanescence (can you tell I have MTV on) would fucking win. Amy: I'm sorry all those guys treated you like shit... I won't do that to you. The world is a fucked up, confusing, hurtful place. Why don't you and I go listen to the Cure, smoke cigarettes, and talk about how our parents don't understand us. I love you Amy Lee. I want to exploit your low self esteem in an ultimate effort to have sex with you and... God Dammit! I always say too much/say the wrong thing. I wish I knew how to talk to girls!

Christina Aguilera will always look like she smells. Bad.

To follow up on a blog from The Domino Effect...

Death in radio contests prompts investigation.

To quote my 'comment' from Gregster's blog:

Imagine having to tell her kids how/why she died. Some people get to die in a war or pulling kids out of a burning orphanage. She's a punchline for a bunch of amateur bloggers and morning radio show hosts. Eh, I would have done it for the PS3... not the Wii. It's not even high def.

Snow day.

I'm sitting here at my kitchen table, typing this blog. It's snowing here in Troutucky. I'm cut off from the world entirely, except for the internet, my land line phone, my cell phone, and cable television. The snow has crept up to about five inches on my sliding glass door at my kitchen. Anyone with whom I've spoken today has either almost killed themselves or is ignoring the confusing and often changing school closures that local school systems are announcing and staying home.

I've taken my Christmas tree down. I've started to clean various rooms in the house. I'm very ADD when it comes to house cleaning. Start cleaning the living room and the phone rings upstairs so I run up there and I make the bed and take down the garbage from the bedroom then I have to take a leak so I see dirty towels in the bathroom so I grab those and I start a load of laundry and I go down to the kitchen because I remember there's socks down there so I grab them and then I decide to Google Tom Sizemore because I just saw the latest episode of his show which is kind of gay and then I start to write this blog but I remember that there's a load of laundry up stairs that I forgot to finish loading and start and then I go up there and start the laundry, empty the dryer into the bedroom and then I spot my barbell which I grab and take downstairs to do curls and shoulder presses and then I wonder about if I can take out the trash in flip flops which I do, but it's cold when your almost bare feet sink in the snow but I take out the trash and the recycling in two trips and then I sat down to finish this blog.

I have a lot of female friends. When they're sad, I try to cheer them up. All of my friends are unique in their own way. There is, however, one commonality: Haagen Daz. This ice cream has become synonymous to me with a break up. I think it's German for "break up," as a matter of fact. I won't give this blog any integrity by looking up the meaning of the name, so we'll move on.

Whenever I answer my phone and I hear a sobbing female voice, not a word needs to be spoken before I head to the car with a five dollar bill at the ready for a pint of peanut butter-chocolate or chocolate-chip cookie dough frozen ecstasy. The crying stops as the first scoop hits her mouth, like a pacifier for crying adults. The slow eaters get the benefit of seeing the remaining half-pint in a liquefied state - only to drink it like a shake.

"You know," I onced mentioned during one of these ice cream benders while watching "The Notebook" with a forelorn female friend, "there's like 1200 calories in that thing."

"I don't care..." she responded... "no one's going to love me again anyways."

Sniff sniff, indeed.

GOOCH:out

Mr. Saturday Night.

I just woke up from a long nap, avoiding a hangover.

Before that I read that 58% of people polled thing that Scarlett Johannsen is better for Justin Timberlake than Cameron Diaz.

Before that I bought four avocados, a five bottles of Sobe Lean, Laughing Cow cheese, and $7 in celebrity gossip magazines.

Before that, I gave a friend of mine a ride to her car.

Before that, I woke up on my couch, thinking I was alone and saw my friend on the small couch, unexpectedly.

Before that, I embarked on a journey of games of pool, Jagermeister shots, domestic beers, and good times. I kissed a girl and I'm not really sure that was a great idea. Drunk Gooch loves the ladies.

Before that, my best friend showed up to meet me and my group of friends with a guy that had been asking her out for a while. I can't stand the guy and when he didn't even walk over to say 'hi' to me because he was busy pretending he was text messaging someone, I told her to "take that shit to BillyBobs," a bar not too far from where we were.

Before that, I thought a girl that I had semi-plans with last night was pissed at me and hung up on me. Turns out she wasn't and she didn't, but is pissed off now that she waited for me to call her last night. But I did, and she hung up(?).

Before that, I took a shower.

Hi Jenn E.

Gooch:Out