At the 11:11

Interesting fun fact about me: I swing a bat left handed, I swing a golf club right handed, I kick right footed, I skateboard regular stance (right foot pushes), I bowl right handed, I throw darts left handed, I write on paper left handed, I right on chalk boards/vertical surfaces right handed, I dribble a basketball right handed, shoot a basketball left handed, shoot a gun left handed. The J.O.? Right handed.

None of the above activities am I actually good at, just an odd lack of favoritism among the left and right hemispheres of my brain. My ambidexterity means I'm mediocre at everything... with either hand/foot.

Get to sleep.

goochout

Forget Height/Weight ratio, BMI, Calipers, Etc...

...If you're holding the camera 7 inches above your head to take a picture, you've got a weight problem.

But who holds your camera?

Before you call me a dick, I'll have you know that I commission satellite photographers to take my Facebook pictures. It's the only way I can eliminate my double chin.

See what I did there? I made fun of myself to negate the dickness of my putdown. I'm not a pioneer in that art, just a genius at it.

gooch:out

You're going to call me a dick anyways, aren't you?

Damn I'm such a G... it's pathetic.

Minions.

I spent most of yesterday, one of the last beautiful and sunny days here in Portland, cleaning the house and playing video games. I was going to go for a run or at least a bike ride but put it off until today because it too was supposed to be nice.

Fail.

So now I'm inside, appreciating my cleaning from the day before. Being careful not to do anything productive. I'm watching the movie "Very Bad Things" because that's what I do when a bachelor party and/or Vegas in particular enters my sites. You know, the sites mounted on the rifle that is my average-on-a-good-day penis. Does anyone else think Cameron Diaz is the quintessential butterface? It's an issue I've grappled with for a while. Is killing a hooker a rite of passage? Is the reason I feel perpetually emasculated because I have yet to bury a dead stripper in a, well, anywhere? No, it has to be something darker than that.

Very Bad Things: Ari Gold is about to accidentally kill the hooker in the bathroom. I shouldn't be watching this. I should be watching "I Need That Record!" - a documentary on the impact of downloads and piracy on the independent record stores. Heh, me watching that movie would be like Hitler watching a documentary on the Holocaust.

GoochOut

A Rollerskating Jam Named Saturday.

There's free admission to an "Air Museum" in Vancouver somewhere. I anticipate it being related to aviation, but had thoughts of showing up to a room filled with tightly closed mason jars. Inside the jars would be trapped air from different eras of history. "This air was trapped near the Hindenburg explosion in 1937, there's some hydrogen mixed with the air. Not that you can tell.

I could have gone on with that, but I got bored just thinking about it.

Bethany Storro, the latest religious white woman in America to do something fucked up and then blame it on a black person, is due in court next Wednesday. I hope the judge arraigns her with "Hey pretty girl, you want to plea to this?" I'm wondering if she will come out with a spiritually inspired self help book entitled "Liquid Drain Cleaner for the Soul." She's now saying that she was trying to kill herself by applying the stuff to her face. Yes, she used gloves and a towel to apply drain cleaner to her face in an act of suicide. A face that she had a cosmetic prodedure done to only a week earlier. She is truly full of shit. At least bullshit defenses make for good gavel to gavel news coverage.

I love playing PS3 Move's table tennis in its "Sports Champions" suite of games. Ping Pong is the one sport where an Asian intimidates me more than a black dude. Unless you consider math a sport. Then there's two sports. I guess.

I'm having a spectuacular day doing a little something I like to call "whatever the fuck I want." I ate Taco Bell for breakfast, played PS3, vacuumed the house. Going to clean the truck next. Maybe work out then a nap.

goochout

I hate Katy Perry

Katy Perry: "How can I stay relevant/important without my tits hanging out? I mean, sure it's a kids' show but dammit my tits are the curtain and my talent is a little old man hiding behind the curtains running the smoke and mirrors."

 

Picture caption: "One of these two is only entertaining when a hand is inserted into them. The other is Elmo."

 

Wow, that practically wrote itself. And by that, I mean I'm sure I didn't originate such filthy puppet humor.

 

As I write this, I'm in an office where small electronics are fixed. One of the customers in here at the moment is a lesbian with a laptop first came to the shop with a vibrator in hand. The shop owner refused to fix it. True story. I bet if she was hot, it would have gotten fixed.

 

 

 

 

My pee smells like coffee.

My Mother, someone who knows nothing of this site due to my tendency to be unabashedly candid and offensive, is in the hospital. She has spinal meningitis. Ultimately, it's an infection in her spinal fluid that developed and moved into her brain, rendering her into a coma-ish state. Not sure if it fit the definition of a coma, but I've always marveled at the frustration one could feel about seeing a loved one who just won't, you know, wake up. I got a taste of that feeling Friday when I saw her in the intensive care unit. I went back to the hospital Saturday and she was awake and smiling, but didn't know quite what was going on. Her brain was still shell shocked from the infection but she was responsive. Her speaking consisted of incomplete sentences - all subjects no predicates - but I felt a mixed blessing that she knew who I was and where she was at, but that we had to ask her and the chance she wouldn't know the answer to those questions saddened me greatly.

The hospital rooms where she's staying have wide chairs with hide-a-beds that fold out. The springs are so noisy that I defy anyone to sleep in one without making enough noise to wake up the patient/loved one in whose room you're staying. Mom is waking up fairly easy and last night I guess I kept her up a bit, so I'm staying home tonight after I visit her this afternoon. It's a good thing, the hide a bed is atrocity in the world of sleep. How did someone develop a bed that is so uncomfortable that the user cannot sleep and so noisy that anyone around them can't sleep either?

I'm sure if I proofread this, I will find errors and some nonsense. I am, however, to tired to care. (but not too tired to use parenthetical comma-separated phrases apparently). I'm awake simply because of a medically frowned upon amount of caffeine consumption. I must sleep tonight.

goochout.

Gooch:ThePodcast

Return from another hiatus with a new tool to combat long bouts of podcastlessness: a voice recorder. This post is somewhat lacking focus, but the dawn of every new era lacks focus, right? [walks away, hoping no one noticed that what he just said didn't make sense. Eats an Oreo cakester. Smiles.]