A Radiant Russian Bride International Introductions

Ymike, in his infinite wisdom, has solved all of my dating problems. SWEET!

Oh...

Gooch's dating tip #42: If you bring a girl to a club, don't make out with another girl on the dance floor.

I got a free Zippo lighter from a promotions girl at a bar last week. I'm so much of a fucking nerd that I had to look on the internet to see how to fill it. I don't even smoke. The ladies love it, though, when they pull out a cigarette and you put a flaming gold-toned Zippo in their face.

Gimme a light. No... I meant Bud Light.

I brought a date to Duke's (the country bar where my friends and I meet a lot of chicks).

"Hi... Beach, this is Sand. Sand... have you met Beach?"

A predictable disaster. Meanwhile, a female friend called me from an Ultimate Fighting competition where she was on a date. She needed to be rescued as the excitement of men beating the fuck out of each other couldn't compete with the sheer horror she experienced during conversation time. "I'm in hell," she reported to me over the phone. A bad night for dates overall.

Also, I nicked my goatee with a razor while shaving, so I had to amputate the whole thing. Now people can see my face, which doesn't help me on the dating scene.

Fuck. My mood is very "Empire Strikes Back" right now. Dark and complex with only a hint of optimism.

What the fuck am I talking about? How does a person sit in front of a computer and type incessantly about nothing of any real consequence. I could do this all day. Nothing but carpal tunnel would stop me.

GOOCH:stupid

"If we're twins, Barbara... how come I'm so much hotter?"

I was driving home from working when a truck pulled up next to me. The driver started shaking his finger at me screaming "shame on you... shame on you!" He then pulled forward, turned his hazard lights on, and pointed at the ground next to him as if he wanted me to pull next to him.

Fuck that.

Oddly enough, the truck had a "Sun Glow Heating and Air Conditioning" sign on the back. Sun Glow was my first employer out of high school. I called the owner, they remembered me. I told them to find out what the guy's problem was and I'd call back tomorrow to find out why he was yelling at me. Maybe I did something wrong, I have no idea.

"Shame on you?" I'm Catholic and, well... I'm me. I've got enough guilt without having random people pointing at me and yelling that I should be ashamed. I am ashamed, dammit! Leave me alone random psycho motorists!

ABCNEWS.com: Is It OK to "Hot Sauce" Kids?

Why don't we just mace the fuck out of the little bastards while we're at it? Maybe Blair should have "hot sauced" Natalie every time she opened a quart of Haggen Daz? Maybe I'm the biggest fucking asshole on the planet? Maybe I didn't fucking sleep last night? Maybe the latte I had three hours ago is making my gut feel like it was the guest of honor at a boot party?

Where are the Bush twins when I need them?

"Jenna... did you see that picture of Gooch with Jenna Jameson? I'm so Jealous!

I need to pop a xanax (like Noelle Bush, my other favorite) and fucking crash. I'm living la vida stupid.

You... you're kidding me.

It's 5am. At 4:15am, my ex girlfriend called me. "Is everything alright?" I asked. "Everything's fine," she replied, "I just wanted to know if you had my email password. I used it on the laptop next to your bed [four months ago]and thought it might still be on there. Were you sleeping?"

It's wasn't on there. And I was sleeping.

Of course, now I can't get back to sleep.

My other ex girlfriend, Cheryl, and I went to dinner last night. After I left dinner, I called another girl that I used to date. What the fuck is wrong with me? I think I date girls in the hopes that we'll break up and become the best of friends. Who does that? I might have a date lined up for later this week that I'm nervous about, so there's hope for me to end my run of making out with mediocre girls on the well-lit dance floor of a country bar.

Word.

Fuckin' A.

GOOCH:tired

Word. Need to throttle back a bit. A little too much on the party tip. I think I'm more attractive when I'm shit faced, though. I've been told (by a bartender who cut me off recently) that I'm much cooler when I'm "plowed," that I'm "too much of a gentleman" when I'm sober. I live in a society that encourages my alcoholism.

Sweet.

Debuted the coolest T-shirt last night: a Trans-Am shirt from Zumies. My Uncle had the raddest Trans-Am when I was a kid. It had a $2500 stereo system (a lot in 1982) with analog VU meters.

MY TRANS AM SHIRT, DEBUTED LAST NIGHT.

Going to see Napoleon Dynamite tonight. Should be awesome.