Lightning, or more specifically, thunder woke and kept me up this morning at 3am. At 4am I had a smoked salmon salad and a diet Coke. I flipped the channels and came across Rocky III. Coming across a Rocky film on TV and turning the channel is akin to sitting down in the middle of the National Anthem. You pay your respects. Mickey, Rocky's trainer, dies in III. It's always been amazing to me that an old man showing signs of heart problems 10 minutes before a national heavyweight championship can lay on a table for two rounds of boxing without an ambulance whisking him away. All he gets is some doctor with a blood pressure cuff? He's got chest pains for chrissakes. Like there's no paramedics or ambulances at a packed coliseum for a heavyweight fight.

Mr T. played Clubber Lang, the greatest opponent Rocky ever faced. Mr T. found his acting niche in the 80s as an angry black man ready to kick ass. Don't dismiss his acting abilities. Mr T. delivers his lines in R3 like no one else can... on paper the lines don't look great. When he says them in the film, they kick ass.

Interviewer: Do you hate Rocky?
Clubber Lang: No, I don't hate Balboa. I pity the fool.

Interviewer: What's your prediction for the fight?
Clubber Lang: My prediction? Pain.

Clubber Lang: : I reject the challenge, 'cause Balboa is no challenge, but I'll be happy to beat up on him some more.

Not so great in print, but gold on the screen!

The Rocky and Godfather box sets belong in every film buff's library. Both have two things in common: Talia Shire is in all the films, and the last film in both series sucks ass. Rocky V? Godfather III? If the Roman's saw those movies, they'd take their numerals back.

Shit, now I'm tired. I only got IV hours sleep last night. I've got work to do today. I was going to segue into a diatribinal apology about how much of an asshole I've been lately and how I promise to clean up my act and how I used to use this website to exxagerate my real life partying antics and now I use it to play them down (no, really) but at this moment I'm as apologetic about that as I am about this run-on sentence. It'll take more than a seven minute Rocky styled training montage to get me in line, but I have been without a drink for over 30 hours now. Gotta start somewhere, right? I love my friends.

Fuck, I'm out of Mr. T. cereal again!

GOOCH: Pitying the fool since 1991!

I have an M.D. from Harvard, I am board certified in cardio-thoracic medicine and trauma surgery, I have been awarded citations from seven different medical boards in New England, and I am never, ever sick at sea. So I ask you; when someone goes into that chapel and they fall on their knees and they pray to God that their wife doesn't miscarry or that their daughter doesn't bleed to death or that their mother doesn't suffer acute neural trama from postoperative shock, who do you think they're praying to? Now, go ahead and read your Bible, Dennis, and you go to your church, and, with any luck, you might win the annual raffle, but if you're looking for God, he was in operating room number two on November 17, and he doesn't like to be second guessed. You ask me if I have a God complex. Let me tell you something: I am God. Alec Baldwin as Dr. Jed Hill in Malice, 1993

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.