Knuckleheads:

It looks like the Genie is going to wind up being a 4.0 at HOTORNOT.COM. Oh well, he's a fighter not a lover.

I did something pretty cool this morning. Instead of waking up late and skipping a shower so I could get to work on time, I woke up early and watched the news, skipping my shower so I could get to work on time.

I love television news. More specifically, I love how television news has covered the Robert Blake incident. They're treating this case like the entire world is wondering "Did Robert Blake kill his wife?" Really, the entire world is wondering "Who's Robert Blake again?"

For those of you who are wondering the latter (most of you), Robert Blake was the star of the hit TV series "Baretta" and the star of the film "In Cold Blood." Back to the TV's handling of this story: This morning, a newscaster was recapping the events that lead up to Blake's becoming a suspect in the crime and actually used the term "murdered in cold blood." Jesus, that's f*cking brilliant! Some news-script writer had to sneak that one in. No self respecting anchor-person would knowingly use that term to describe the incident that occured. Some writer is going to get fired (or, what the hell... promoted) for that one. I'll bet $1000 that if Seinfeld was shot during an argument, the script would read "Jerry Seinfeld was shot last night after an argument about nothing."

NBC's "Dateline" actually mentioned that in the TV series "Baretta," Robert Blake's character's wife is actually shot on the street... coincidence? NBC and Stone Phillips lumped themselves in with the same assholes who point out that if you rearrange the letters in Elvis' name, it spells "LIVES." "Shit, Jeb, that means he has to be alive! Pass the pork rinds!" Some reporter probably asked not "what kind of gun does Blake own," but rather "Was it a Beretta? " The next question: "Was Blake's wife sitting in a Chevy Beretta when she was shot?"

Tacky.

But, when all is said and done, Blake shot his wife. The only evidence I need to come to that conclusion is not that he forgot his gun at the Italian restaurant he and his wife last ate, not that he left his alleged stalking-victim wife in a dark alley while he walked to retrieve the gun four blocks away (not that those events don't look suspicious (and dumb)), but that when a guy's wife gets shot, you seldom hear his attorney on national television calling the dead woman something to the affect of a "thieving slut."

In completely unrelated news, Timothy McVeigh might get to put off his needle-date because the FBI just turned up 3000 documents? I'm all about fairness and "innocent until proven guilty," etc. However, couldn't some FBI secretary have just filed that shit away and then, maybe five years later have said... "Oops!" Nope: This case (and apparently McVeigh) will not die. The man who made my birthday (April 19) synonymous with a day of mourning will live on our dime for a while as the Feds sort this one out.

Wait, I just had an idea:

"Gee Mr. Blake, that was a really great dinner. I can't believe the Warden let me out of prison so I could have dinner with you!"

"Please, Timothy, call me Robert. Oh, shit... I left my gun in the restaurant. Wait right here and I'll go back and get it."

"But Robert, shouldn't we just drive back to the restaurant? It's like four blocks away!"

"No, I have to - I mean I want to walk."

"Can't I come with?"

"Timothy, please, I always walk back to the restaurant when I forget my gun."

"Okay, Robert, but hurry - it's dark out here!"

Imagine the rest for yourself. I've got to go now, I left my pistol at Il Fornaio at lunch today and they're holding it for me.

-GOOCH

Mail Call:

Ismael C. From Chicago wrote: Your website had me laughing pretty hard. I was standing in the post office line, (I copied your log), people thought I was insane. It's too funny. Keep up the good work. Do you update daily?

I update as often as I can, usually when something interesting happens. Like today, for example, while I got into my car this morning my cellular phone fell out of my pocket and behind my front tire. I didn't notice anything until I felt the car roll over something. When I looked ahead to see what I rolled over, well let's just say my heart sank. I got out of the car and kneeled over my Nokia, its LCD inoperable, but everything else intact. I could not think of any crappier way to start the day. It could have been a cat, a puppy, or a child, but no... it had to be my goddamned phone.

So no matter how bad your day is going, think of mine and revel in my suffering - like when you laugh at someone on Millionaire who misses the $500,000 question and walks home with only $32,000.


My Nokia phone: 1998-2001
--Gooch

RATE THE GENIE AT HOTORNOT.COM!

Illiterates:

I've listed the Genie on hotornot.com, please rate him and bring him up to at least a six... Jesus, the gun should have added at least two points. The diet's a struggle, I've lost no weight. I sleep a lot though. Some people may be going to the old goochonline.com website, but the new page is on gooch-1.com, BOTH URLs WILL WORK by the end of today.

Earthlink sucks.
GOOCH

In June of 2000, as I graduated from Portland State, I weighed in at 240 pounds. After my graduation party, I started on the Atkins low carbohydrate diet. Within four months I lost 30 pounds. I looked great, felt great, and I started to binge from Thanksgiving through New Years. Suprisingly, I only gained 16 pounds. I've maintained that weight to this day, weighing 226--my ideal weight if I were 9 feet tall.

On May 1st, while everyone was protesting workers rights and other trivial nonsense, I started back on the low carb action. It sucks ass. As is expected, I've lost all ambition and energy during the first two days. I've fallen asleep at 7pm two nights in a row. My brain is not functioning up to par, due to low blood sugar. These symptoms will subside, I hope, and I'll be back on track to getting myself down to the "mildly obese" category.

It's always when you've decided to abstain from doing something that the opportunities to do it come from all directions. The ultimate is that my boss just brought in about 8 pounds of chocolate bars and mints, for the office to graze at our leisure. Last week, these treats would have served as my sole source of nutrition for like three goddamned days. But I can beat those chocolate bars. They don't think so... they're staring me down from across the hall (yep, they're in perpetual eye-shot of my office). They're taunting me... "gooch, only 26 carbs (I checked), one won't kill you... everyone else is having one... I'll be your friend... the cool kids are doing it..."

SHUT UP! The fundraiser chocolates are the worst. F*ck 'em. I don't need them-- I've got hordes of non-carb meats and cheeses to consume.

I'm getting delirious... Sign my guestbook.

Peep this:

I got reviewed. Somehow, some way, a website found their way to my corner of the WWW and criticized me, a critic myself. The tables have been turned, the roles reversed. Oh well, it's evidence that someone checks out the site. To those people that have contacted me because their last name is, in fact, Gooch - the last part of the review might be offensive...

The Gooch

John "Gooch" Gallucci is a journalist/columnist. He
uses his Web site as a forum for his daily rants and
to archive almost all his published work. His
discussion is lively, with some gossip and shameless
slurring and the odd pitching of ideas such as his gay
version of "Survivor" called "The Real Gay World". You
can even hire him to get your band/event up and
pumping. All things considered, the site is
considerably more entertaining than you'd expect from
someone who willingly uses the nickname "Gooch".

http://www.netsurf.com/nsd/nsd.06.42.html

gooch

Beeatches:

Downtown Portland is a really funny place in which to hang out. It's the one part of Portland where you have to pay for parking, pay for the privelage to get into a bar, then pay a premium for booze that you can only drink while standing up because there's nowhere to sit. That's right: the emporer has no clothes, and going to dance clubs downtown sucks.

Notice I said "dance clubs," hoping to exclude from anyone's mind the thought that I'd be dissing any venue that supports local musicians.

Back to the downtown clubs. I went to a new place called "Boogy Woogies" (spelling may be wrong, but anyway) and paid $14 (me and my girlfriend) in cover to stand in an aisle for two hours while I sipped my very expensive Coors light. I not only sipped it because the bar priced it at the same price-per-ounce as say, cocaine, but because there was a crowd of people obscuring the entire bar service area making it nearly impossible to get a drink. However, I was with a group of friends who will most likely go back on a weeknight when it's not so crowded. The "dueling piano" themed place is pretty cool, I just can't goddamned stand people bumping in to me every five seconds. The people who did have a table probably didn't like my fat ass standing in front of them, either.

The winner bar of the evening? Ember's. Maybe there is a homo side to me that likes dance music in gay bars (I do own two Pet Shop Boys CDs). A cup of beer is $2.50 (not bad by downtown standards) and the music is pretty killer. Oh yeah... $5 cover. The Copper Penny (SE Foster) charges $10 per person on some nights. Parking in NW has never been a problem for me either, so once again: Ember's is the winner for last weekend, but check out Boogie Woogy's (Woogie's?)... on a weeknight.

Oh: www.goochonline.com may go down the same way as www.gooch-1.com did late last week. This is due primarily to the fact that Earthlink ISP SUCKS ASS. I've alerted the Attorney General; God they suck.

gooch

Survivor? Listen, if I had one place to drive the Pontiac Aztek, it would be in the Australian Outback. That way, no one would see me driving it. What an ugly vehicle. A tent? Great idea except for the fact that tents tear and the OEM price to replace it is probably a grand. I'm going to find that out. I'll call someone or something, or someone find out and let me know. American car designers should stick with unimaginative cars and quit trying to innovate. The US college system is not good enough to produce decent car designers (save for the new Mercury Cougar and the Ford Mustang). On the other hand, anyone who drives one of those Japanese full-size trucks (Toyota T100, for example) is un-American. No one beats the US when it comes to trucks. No amount of technology can compare to the power of a poorly engineered, oversized engine.

The web is making the world a smaller place. Some guy with the last name of Gooch (I've had a few contact me lately) emailed me and he's from South Africa. There are a lot of people out there that think my last name is, in fact, Gooch. That's incorrect. My last name is Estrada.

Going to see Dualesc tonight at the Fallout Shelter.

Sign my guestbook. Sorry for the last angry log.