Stomach pains, went to hospital, had appendix removed, hate life, nine staples in gut, vicodin makes me sick and it's wearing off, read letter I sent to Jam Magazine for update, need to lie down. congratulations John Barr for graduating from Portland State, Eric Philps for having another birthday, Perfect in Plastic for having another show that I managed to miss. Here's the letter:

6/19; 8:20AM: I'm doing okay, I stayed two nights at Providence, which is an honor considering most women who give birth get sent home after one night. Went home monday around noon. Went to Fred Meyer's and used one of those geriatric scooters to get around (I cant walk too well). The fucking thing died in like aisle 7 or something. It's not like you can call AAA and wait for a jump. You've got to sit there and wait like a goofball until someone gets a new scooter for you.

Shit, I delivered an appendix via Cesearian section. I'm in so much pain, I'm not even going to check to see if I spelled "Ceasarian" right. Oh well, the vicodin is obviously having an affect on my writing, hope everyone is doing well, talk to you kids later.

Gnotella, a client/clone to Gnutella is, as we speak, downloading Flash onto my computer. I'm under so much pressure at work that at 3:23am (pdt) this morning, I actually crapped a diamond. I was going to take it, sell it, and retire, but at 3:24am (pdt) I accidentally flushed it. Bummer. Hope to do something cool with the site this weekend. Actually, I hope to do anything cool this weekend... Like seeing Perfect in Plastic this Saturday at Ash Street. I have to refill the flask I keep in my desk drawer... Later.

gooch

I have determined that this site is kind of a pain to navigate. Some columns are in the "columns" link, Contributions to Jam, or the most recent columns, are hidden behind the "Jam" logo. I've found a new love... Gnotella. This is like the napster for EVERYTHING. I can download Flash, Photoshop, Porn; everything I need for a successful website. Change is coming... oh yes it's on its way. Spent three wonderful days in Canada (Thursday through Saturday). Watched a La Crosse game (cross between football, hockey, and boxing), went to a secondary school graduation (Canadians spend five years in their high schools - I know that's what you did, but they're supposed to.), and paid so much for gasoline, I almost took Langley, B.C.'s first hostage. $.79/Litre! - do you have any idea how much that is a gallon? Me neither, but it's a lot. Rough estimates lead me to believe between $2.30 and $2.40 per gallon. Despite this atrocity, the Canadian people are still the nicest people I've been around. Frankly, I'd be pissed all the time if I had to take out a loan to fill the goochmobile up. Well, my once pristine "in" box is piling over. Back to the real world.

gooch

I've finished my new column, another berating of the airline industry. I know that you get what you pay for, and that I am truly a cheap bastard, however I will not stop goofing on the airlines.

Between Earthlink crashing my goochonline.com domain name (for email and the site) and Blogspot.com having its problems, I'm having a hard time deciding who's less reliable. Really, I've spent a lot of time trying to decide who has pissed me off more. Likely, it's Earthlink, because I'm not paying anything to the Blogger folks. Earthlink has "fixed" my problems five times in the last month, four of the fixes resulted in worse problems than the previous. You know what it's like running auctions, having people send me money via PayPal, and then they can't get a hold of me as though my email account is dead? It sucks an incredible amount of ass.

Hey, for those of you that I sponged incredible amounts of cash from last night, I found my wallet. Also, thanks to the Cheerful Tortoise for recognizing me as over 21 and serving me w/o ID. You are saints, who in my eyes are greater than the Goodwill, Mother Theresa, Larry Flynt, and Princess Diana combined.

I'm on vacation next Thursday through Sunday. Hopefully my absence will not negatively impact the local music scene. Thank you.

gooch

Hmmm... Jam Magazine publishes an article I wrote about Blogger.com and suddenly their server suffers a major overload and crashes. Speaking of Jam, the publisher offered the staff a free ad in the June issue of the mag. It occured that aside from the editor, I'm the only non-musician writer on staff. So while everyone published an ad for their band, I did one for www.goochonline.com. I'm very aware that taking out an ad to promote a personal website is, well, corny. Fortunately I was dropped on my head as a child and the part of my brain that controls shame, dignity and modesty was permanently damaged.

Word: Picked up an Olympus 490 camera. This digital camera has more features than your girlfriend and when my new computer arrives from the small Vietnamese child-labor camp from which I ordered it... I'll rule the world. I'm going to bring this website up to 1998 technology!

GOOCH

In my last post, I asked if you could believe that I do all of this magic from a 333mhz laptop. I guess that by looking at the, ahem, high tech look of my site... well, it probably doesn't boggle the mind. SHOUT OUT to D. Gooch in Salem, OR. I guess there may be a whole lot of people named "Gooch" who think my last name is "Gooch." Well it's not; it's Blake.

I fell asleep while watching "Anne Frank" last night. I much prefer falling asleep to my tapes of ocean waves or babbling brooks to the sound of Jews being persecuted. However, I was pretty into the story and tried to stay awake to watch the movie, which is actually really well done. The story, which is sadly true (Disney acknowledges that some artistic license was taken for the script), lends itself to suspense without being over the top or melodramatic, as many made for TV movies can often be.

Unfortunately, I had a dream. Not one of those cool dreams like Martin Luther King had, but rather one of those nightmarish ones where you wake up sweating at 5am. The dream was that I was in the hidden office with Anne Frank and the rest of the family. The Nazis (I'm assuming they're Nazis, I never saw them in the dream but I'm pretty sure it was them or a group of Portland parking meter maids) were banging on the door of the hideout. I hid my diary (as if I hand write anything anymore) along with my Atari 2600 (I think they had those around the 30s) and just as the German voices started becoming audible, calling me "Hogan," I woke up.

I'll watch the 2nd part tonight. I'm going to have something to say about Gharma and Dreg tomorrow night.

Don't touch that dial...

gooch

I've made some updates to the site: a new submission by Robin D. Sparks, a couple of pictures from Rob Gooch, a resident of Johannesburg, South Africa, and that's pretty much the bulk of my efforts - in every aspect of my life. I'm the only person I know who has to exert effort to get off the couch to get in front of the computer. I did purchase a new computer this week, it should be delivered soon. It's an 866mhz 20 Gig, 128mb Jedi F*cking Knight John Holmes Pentium goddamned 3 (I didn't get a P4 only because I'm sick of those dancing adult-smurfs that Intel is using to sell it) tower. For a writer, that's pretty much all I need. Would you believe that I do all of my web stuff and band posters on a Compaq AMD 3 333mhz 32mb with a 3 Gig hard drive? It's true. I installed Photoshop and Illustrator and MS Office on that thing and it runs really slow now thanks to the 3mb of free space left on it.

God, I'm a geek.
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