Return of Tanman.

I spent a couple of hours laying out by the condo pool. My face is now soaked in aloe vera like some sort of green, soothing money-shot has coated my face. I look up the UV index on Weather.com, as though I know what the fuck a UV index is and how it may pertain to my tanning experience. By the way, it's 80 degrees right now in Troutdale with a UV index of 2.

Scoping Star Wars Episode III on imdb.com and while Jar-Jar Binks is back in the film (hopefully to meet a tortured, painful death), James Earl Jones appears to have been tapped to voice Darth Vader again. Fucking sweet... fresh Vader in 2005. One more reason to go on living.

Alcohol is like aspirin for the heart.

Just when I thought I'd have nothing to do today...

Diaz Steamed and Steamy: Cameron peeved over sexy Internet video.

I've kickstarted the old download machine... we'll see what comes up. The Paris Hilton video actually has 30 minutes of color footage, much better than the night-vision looking excerpt that I thought made up the full flick. She was 19 when the video was made, Cameron was 19 when her video was made. When I was 19, I didn't get laid very much, but I knew to NEVER film myself having sex.

Jenna Bush + Gooch = Love 4ever (giggle giggle)

Jenna, we have so much in common. Our lives filled with lack of responsibility has given way to self destructive behavior. We go through life care free, knowing that any indiscretion we commit will be covered up by parents and/or friends. We've turned to the bottle, you and I. The bitterness of liquor on our lips gives way to a sweet euphoria that only raging alcoholics like you and I can completely understand. Inhibitions, worries, and clothes seem to disappear as the night and blood alcohol level goes on. We will find each other the way I've found most of my girlfriends. Shit faced drunk, in bed, in my condo. You have the Presidential seal on your condoms... that's hot. We'll make sweet love while my digital camcorder secretly rolls on and pass out in each other's arms. We awaken together, you'll look into my eyes and say those three words that I'd been longing to hear all night:

"What's your name?"

Your secret service attendants will hold your hair back as we both vomit in unison into my toilet. I'll sign the confidentiality agreement, you'll be whisked away in a black Cadillac, and I'll only have my love and a 37 minute digital video with which to remember you.

My friend Mike Henry in Florida made me a compilation CD. He used his new printer to print some of our life highlights directly to the CD. The picture of me and another guy (Nathan Spear) in the upper right hand side of the disk holding the yellow drinks was taken at Bar 71 in Portland. That was the first time we had Rockstar energy drinks and vodka (It wasn't at all the last time for me). The lower left hand picture is Mike and me at a club in Florida. Upper left is me, drunk, standing where Gianni Versace was stabbed to death. Thanks, Hank.

"Tom Haggen... get me a burger, large fry, one of
those apple pastry things, an orange, a chocolate milkshake,
and a diet Coke. They've made me a Big Mac I can't refuse.

Marlon Brando, dead at 80.

Initial news reports as I write this state that the cause of death is "unknown." Um... He was 80 years-old and weighed about 10 pounds for every year he aged. What... are they gonna do an autopsy? Do they suspect foul play? Maybe it was AIDS? Or a cocaine overdose? I'd love to be in the medical examiner's room when they truck Brando in.

Police Officer: "Doctor, we need to know what killed this acting legend."

Medical Examiner (opening a can of PBR and eating an orange): Fuckin' look at him." (belches)

If more people went to Reno and were familiar with the "Awful Awful" burger at the Nugget in Reno, I could have captioned Brando with "They've made me an Awful I can't refuse." Oh, geez, with Brando's death, maybe the play on "Offer you can't refuse" jokes will die. I don't see an end in sight for the end of "Got Milk" variations.

Biography for Marlon Brando (IMDB.COM)

Fox News: Actor Marlon Brando Dead at 80

We here at Goochonline.com honor, respect, and admire our fallen heroes who eat and drink too much and display little or no self control. If there's a happy hour in heaven, we'll see you there, Mr. Brando. Rest in peace.

More shaming from a fresh deposit into the Goochonline.comarchives:

These photos were taken after I arrived back at the hotel, after my infamous "walk of shame" detailed in recent blogs past. Can you believe I was on the phone bawling like a school girl merely an hour before? Don't drink and drive, and certainly don't drink and dial.

Awww... yeah. Got my new Moto on standby... I fell asleep at a house about five miles outside walking distance to my car. Just got off the phone with YMike who's on his way to Sacramento. To live there. He's saving a spot on his couch for me. I should have planned ahead and taken pictures of all the couches I've slept on for the purpose of a scrapbook. There's been a few floors, futons, and even a ceiling-suspended leather harness. I'm just kidding, there's no way I could sleep on a fucking futon.

I think I'm getting my groove back. The new phone is what I needed... I therapeutic shop for gadgets the way women therapeutic shop for clothes.

My friend Mary-Suzanne commented on my saying that I "didn't want to be the guy with a laptop computer in a [hot-spot enabled] bar; that it'd look too dorky, by saying that she can sometimes be found in a bar downtown with two laptops (utilizing a friend's when she's in the bathroom) and a beer. I thought about it and also reflected on a girl I saw at a Starbucks with a webcam equipped iBook. That's sexy. I mean... even I could possibly come up with an opening line on a chick with a computer. Any girl that uses a laptop in public, has an iPod, or has to look in her PDA to see if she has time to see me is hot in my book.

I've ordered a Nextel phone to arrive hopefully tomorrow. They're GPS enabled which will allow me to punch in an address and verbally give me street by street and turn by turn instructions to get me to the destination. I can also walkie-talkie a few of my friends, which will be helpful the next time I "need backup."

I think the fallout from my Wednesday night fiasco has started to subside. I have one more apology to make and I'll be good.

Goochonline.com: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Crappiness.