It broke my heart to update this site from anywhere than my flagship workstation here in the [Insert Company Name Here], Inc. compound. I finally fixed my own computer. Now I can go fix others'. Meanwhile, I spent my weekend working at the pub checking IDs. Saw some cool costumes. So... do the costume stores not stock regular maid, regular nurse, regular angel costumes? Everything's naughty, slutty, whatever.

Is there any worse of a feeling than putting a condom on, screwing a girl, um... finishing, pulling out, reaching down to remove the condom only to discover that it's not there?

Maxim party this week. I'm going. Where's my camera? Go to the "PICS" section in the menu above to check out last year's fun.

Wow... I've not really done a lot of updates, yet I've nothing to say. I'll try to seek out adventure this week and write about it.

Network diagnosis: bad network card. Jesus... my webpage loads slow. Need to remedy that. In other news... oh, fuck it.

Shit. My access to the internet was significantly crippled over the last few days. I finally said "fuck it" and grabbed every networking component I had lying around and replaced everything until it worked again. So... now you get a blog other than my self-congratulatory bouncing moment caught on tape.

Ashlee Simpson? I'd have thought nothing of it until she blamed the band, which makes her a total, graceless, no talent bitch. I actually dig the "Pieces of Me" song, secretly singing along with my windows rolled up as I drive down the street. Don't tell anyone... that's just between you and me. With all of the stories being generated by her publicity camp this late after the event, I'd have to assume that it's all bullshit. Ashlee: redeem yourself and pose for Playboy. It's the next logical career move. I've got one word for you: Tiffany. Give me a call, Ashlee. My number is in all 4318 fan letters I've sent you, including the ones where I enclosed a pair of my boxers.

Okay, Gooch, now you're just being a sick fuck.

Sweet.

gooch:OUT

How to pick up chicks in a bar...

MY GOOCH SENSES DETECT TROUBLE!


MUST STOP THE FIGHT!


MY HERO!

WHAT'S UP?

Okay, I didn't pick up that girl, I met her there and she's a friend of mine. It could have worked, though. This is what you can do when you have too much free time... pulling security cam pics of yourself. Gooch:OUT

Saw Van Halen in concert last night. I remember using my Commodore 64's "paintbrush" program to replicate the "VH" logo. I remember the Sammy vs. Dave debates. I remember getting the Diver Down tape for my 10th birthday. And now... I'll remember my friend Marty backstage with the band last night holding his Nextel up to Eddie Van Halen's face and having him say "Hi Gooch."

After the show I gave Michael Anthony a run for his Jack Daniels drinking money. Sober Gooch eats low carb, drinks in moderation, goes for walks everyday or even swims. Drunk Gooch goes to 7-11 at 3am, uses Sober Gooch's credit card to buy Twinkies and hot dogs, and leaves a fucking mess for Sober Gooch to clean up.

And also props to Mike P. and to myself for replacing the USB hub, allowing the cam to work again and for incorporating "Gooch out" into my drunken vernacular.

GOOCH:out

Best porn title to date: Weapons of Ass Destruction

Going to see Van Halen tonight. Should only be the coolest night ever. The only thing cooler than seeing the show would be to hang out with the band in a Rose Garden luxury suite prior to the show, which my friend Marty is doing. Sweet.

Ran into my friend Jenn, a fixture in my life about nine years-ago. She walked into Skyland last night as I was going to leave, probably around 9pm. We left at closing time. I think. I had five Red Bull and vodkas last night. I woke up at 6:30am with my heart fucking pounding! It's why I'm up right now.

I'm freezing my fucking balls off. Shout out to Mike Henry, Greg Moore, Lee, Marty, JKAZ, JNAU, the people who make Red Bull, anyone who manufactured the defibrillator that will undoubtedly be used on me sometime today, the people who made the Xanax that kept me from crying like a schoolgirl with a skinned knee yesterday, your Mom, and the people of Canada.