Goochatar

Avatar is a film directed by James Cameron who directed some of the Terminator films and stars Sam Worthington who starred in a Terminator movie but not one that James Cameron Directed. The movie takes place 144 years into the future, but Sigourney Weaver still smokes cigarettes and Giovanni Ribisi still hits golf balls into a coffee cup.

So, 150 years after Al Gore's "Inconvenient Truth" comes out, the people of Earth are mining the living fuck out of other planets. One in particular, Pandora, has a bunch of valuable minerals underneath a tree which houses a bunch of beings known as Avatars. They look as if Jar Jar Binks and Jeriba from Enemy Mine had good looking blue kids, without the offensive racial mannerisms. The Avatars can link up with trees and animals with connections in their ponytails - like USB 7.0 or something. I think it's how they fuck, too.

So in an effort to get the Avatars to leave their giant tree home so that we can chop it down with missiles, we genetically grow Avatar like creatures called Na'vi. The Na'vi bodies are like pods that humans can be brain-ported in to like in the Matrix. Paraplegic Marine Jake Sully is the underacheiver younger brother of a deceased scientist that was trained and supposed to mind meld with a Na'vi pod. He doesn't have any training, but what the hell - we'll send him in anyway.

So he visits the beings of Pandora and they want to smash his jacked up Na'vi teeth in when they first meet him. Ten minutes later they decide to teach him how to be one of them. Within weeks, he bangs the daughter of the King while becoming the best warrior the species has seen in 1000 years or so. He's got serious Na'vi game.

Sully decides that alien vag and the ability to walk beats VA hospital benefits, so he decided to join the Avatars' fight against the miners/military. Hijinks ensue.

Watch "Dances with Wolves" for the rest of the story.

*******

I watch Jersey Shore. I will watch the finale tonight. I hate that MTV blurs shit out. I mean, come on, how can you deprive us from seeing eye candy like this:




Mesmerizing. This reminds me of the time I tried to jerk off to midget porn. It was a valiant effort, but the paper towel lived to see another day.

I've gotta pop more pills and get to work. I'm running through life like Bad Lieutenant right now. Sweet.

gooch:out

allow me to bitch

I have a pinched nerve in my neck. It is debilitating painful. I'm a dick at work because of the pain and I just spend $50 on a chiropractic appt. Then go home, eat soup, and wash tylenol 3s down with some cheap red wine. I want to work out again. I want to have the sex that I wasn't having before this thing fucked up my life. I'm in my chiropractically correct recliner  positioned in front of my plasma TV.I look like a cross between Clockwork Orange and the Memorex guy. If you don't get those references, it's not my problem. All communication in and out has been through the Palm Pre.

the last round of T3s and merlot is kicking in. Gonna fade. I see the light. The light. It looks like a South Park rerun. Good night again. 

goochout.

Adam and Eve, not Adam and... Gooch?

I now pronounce you: Spank Bank material.

I can't believe that the religious wackos are still protesting same sex marriage. They should, rather, protest dysfunctional hetero marriages. Which is more detrimental to society? A quiet gay couple next door or Charlie fucking Sheen holding a knife to his wife's throat?



Too many people that have no business getting married are doing so without any oversight while gays in functional relationships are given shit for wanting to commit to one person for the rest of their lives?

"Are you willing to forsake all others, and all bath houses?"

I think that instead of persecuting the pillow biters and berating the bean flickers for wanting to enter into some sort of recognized union we should instead impose a qualification process for all people wanting to get married. That's right - no more quickie Vegas weddings and it should take a little more than signing a sheet of paper and having some asshole internet minister read the vows so you can go off and have more kids than your trailer can hold and put 911 on speed dial because "he only hits me when he's drunk."

Stricter qualifications for a couple of any sexual orientation is necessary to prevent not only domestic violence, but also the conception of kids into a fucked up family dynamic. Eventually, the reduction of ill-advised marriages would save lives and reduce crime by not creating the wife beating environment that leads to raising the fucking asshole kids that grow up ultimately steal your car stereo and beat domestic animals (you know, for example).

What's the real issue with the gays, anyways? Is it because they commit unnatural sex acts? Join the fucking club. Is is because same sex couples can't reproduce? There's already too many people on Earth. Same sex marriage is like an overpopulation solution in itself. Let the gays get married and adopt the children languishing in orphanages domestically and in third world countries.

Quite frankly, on the topic of unnatural sex acts: I love blow jobs. Call me a biolagical mistake or a deviant, just make sure my dick is in your mouth while you say it. I don't think my desire for a knob slob puts me in an exclusive club, most dudes are into them, I'm sure. However, It's a slippery slope (no, that's not the name of a gay Asian porn video, or is it?) from hetero oral sex to full on Liberace getting a rimmer from George Michael in a rest area bathroom gay sex.

So, if you're worried about same sex marriages, give it a rest. Focus, rather, on improving existing marriages and make it so that future unions are forged with the best intentions and are more likely to last.

gooch:out

Death to Gooch(y)

I haven't done anything of note lately. A drastic reduction of alcohol consumption replaced by pleasant evenings out for dinner or sitting at home trying in vain to fix my out of warranty PS3 may have contributed to this state of calm.

But it's okay. I'm comfortable with being the drunken out of control fat guy. It gives me a miguided purpose in life... a jester among my friends. I love making people laugh and I've come to terms with the fact that I'm better liked when I'm drunk. When I say that I'm going to "drink myself attractive," it's in reference to the fact that girls really seem to like me when I've had a few too many. I wish I had the self confidence and sense of humor that "Drunk Gooch" has, but I don't... I just pay his bills and clean up after him.

For the last 10 years or so, I've had this caricature of myself to look up to. He's 1000 times more talented and more fucked up than I am. All of his experiences have been way more extreme, his heartbreaks way more severe, and his career way more successful. He's had the "girl that got away" and even at his heaviest weight wore the same corduroy shirt that I happen to wear at my heaviest (which I threw the fuck out recently). I always managed to spot the parallels between Artie Lange and myself - not the good ones, but the mentality behind being insecure to the point where you think that people dig on the fact that you're completely out of control and you think that gettiing yourself fucked up all of the time will keep everyone happy.

He even lamented at times that people he dated would want him to be the guy he was on stage all the time. I've been lambasted by some for not being funny at a particular moment, or for staying quiet at a social setting because I didn't want to be the center of attention.

I took a particular interest in Artie Lange because he was sort of this misguided soul that despite his self destructive efforts became successful. I always felt that with my propensity to make mistakes, I could be inspired by Artie and pull myself through the way he had.

So last week I read that Artie Lange tried to kill himself. I don't idolize any celebrities for anything other than their success. And by success, I mean money. And by money, I mean random unsolicited blow jobs. When you listen to a radio show, as I listen to the Howard Stern show pretty much every day, you identify with the personalities as you would any people with whom you spend a few hours a day. I took the Artie suicide thing kind of hard. It saddened me anyways. It made me not want to be that guy. I feel kind of game over-esque.

I hung out with friends at a bar recently and I didn't drink. It was almost a science experiment. I wanted to see if I could still make people laugh, I wanted to see if I could maintain conversations without getting nervous.

What a pain in the ass that was.

There's no way to end this post eloquently. I'm probably as sick of writing it as you are reading it. So take this as more of a brain dump than a coherent piece of writing.

Cheers.

gooch:out

The only thing gayer...

...than the fact that I bought eye cream is watching me smear this overpriced shit on the bags and crows feet surrounding my eyes.

Stuff I don't remember writing...

...Because I was drunk:

Casey Johnson was a waste of skin. And it's John Belushi and Heath Ledger who both died of pill/coke overdose. Anyone born with an abundance of cash does not deserve the same sympathy as that of someone that has suffered a genuine tragedy/loss.

Tee hee... I'm an angry drunk.

Last year brought forth a few changes in my life. Nothing really earth shaking, more superficial.

The cat and I survived our first full year together.

I rediscovered my love for media piracy and my love for chicks in their thirties. I went the entire year without having an actual "girlfriend." I suffered some heart break, broke a heart or two. You know, the typical life of a twenty something; except that I'm in my mid thirties. I'm getting old for this shit.

2009 saw me transition from strip club DJ to actually doing some private gigs with my own gear. After a few drinks, I agreed to DJ a high school reunion in Astoria. I agreed, even though I didn't even know at the time why DJs wore headphones while working. I also didn't have the laptop, mixer/controller board, lighting, amplifier, or speakers to do the job. I quickly procured the mixer and laptop and successfully DJed an event where the clothes stayed on (at least during the reunion). I did it all for food, beer, and lodging. Towards the end of the year I DJed a Christmas party for one of my favorite computer customers, and New Years Eve I got to try out my new amp and speakers (Xmas presents to myself, I guess) at my friend Nikki's house. It's a fun hobby, I suppose, and it's something I can practice at and get better at over time.

I thought that putting myself in front of audiences to do different things would cure me of my social phobia. Turns out, I've simply been torturing the living fuck out of myself for the last few years. I'll continue to do weddings and DJ - I'm sure it builds character. Because, you know, that's my problem.

My diet endeavors hit a snag towards the end of the year, but I, like a lot of people, used the New Year as a starting point to start counting calories and working out. I also need to quit drinking so much. It's painful to think about the money and calories wasted and consumed, respectively. It sucks that for the most part people like me better when I'm plowed. It's a documented fact.

This website celebrated its 10th anniversary in November. I mean, my entire writing (ahem) career has been focused at the short attention span reader. So I really like the Twitter and Facebook venues in which to write. I've decided to make the blog more personal items and the Twitter posts to be strictly for general public followers (like a joke or pop culture/news observation). I'm not really a fan of Twitter, but I do think it's great for following celebrities or people that you give a shit about in general. I try to at least make my 140 characters somewhat chuckleworthy.

So I don't think I derive as much enjoyment out of writing these end of year summaries. So many people love writing about themselves and mailing those envelopes full of self adoration to their apathetic friends and family. Ha. Letters with sentences like "We just found out that our two-year-old shits cotton candy! Isn't that amazing? She sure is more special than most babies." Anyways, here it is.

Happy 2010.

gooch:out