Hmmm... Jam Magazine publishes an article I wrote about Blogger.com and suddenly their server suffers a major overload and crashes. Speaking of Jam, the publisher offered the staff a free ad in the June issue of the mag. It occured that aside from the editor, I'm the only non-musician writer on staff. So while everyone published an ad for their band, I did one for www.goochonline.com. I'm very aware that taking out an ad to promote a personal website is, well, corny. Fortunately I was dropped on my head as a child and the part of my brain that controls shame, dignity and modesty was permanently damaged.

Word: Picked up an Olympus 490 camera. This digital camera has more features than your girlfriend and when my new computer arrives from the small Vietnamese child-labor camp from which I ordered it... I'll rule the world. I'm going to bring this website up to 1998 technology!

GOOCH

In my last post, I asked if you could believe that I do all of this magic from a 333mhz laptop. I guess that by looking at the, ahem, high tech look of my site... well, it probably doesn't boggle the mind. SHOUT OUT to D. Gooch in Salem, OR. I guess there may be a whole lot of people named "Gooch" who think my last name is "Gooch." Well it's not; it's Blake.

I fell asleep while watching "Anne Frank" last night. I much prefer falling asleep to my tapes of ocean waves or babbling brooks to the sound of Jews being persecuted. However, I was pretty into the story and tried to stay awake to watch the movie, which is actually really well done. The story, which is sadly true (Disney acknowledges that some artistic license was taken for the script), lends itself to suspense without being over the top or melodramatic, as many made for TV movies can often be.

Unfortunately, I had a dream. Not one of those cool dreams like Martin Luther King had, but rather one of those nightmarish ones where you wake up sweating at 5am. The dream was that I was in the hidden office with Anne Frank and the rest of the family. The Nazis (I'm assuming they're Nazis, I never saw them in the dream but I'm pretty sure it was them or a group of Portland parking meter maids) were banging on the door of the hideout. I hid my diary (as if I hand write anything anymore) along with my Atari 2600 (I think they had those around the 30s) and just as the German voices started becoming audible, calling me "Hogan," I woke up.

I'll watch the 2nd part tonight. I'm going to have something to say about Gharma and Dreg tomorrow night.

Don't touch that dial...

gooch

I've made some updates to the site: a new submission by Robin D. Sparks, a couple of pictures from Rob Gooch, a resident of Johannesburg, South Africa, and that's pretty much the bulk of my efforts - in every aspect of my life. I'm the only person I know who has to exert effort to get off the couch to get in front of the computer. I did purchase a new computer this week, it should be delivered soon. It's an 866mhz 20 Gig, 128mb Jedi F*cking Knight John Holmes Pentium goddamned 3 (I didn't get a P4 only because I'm sick of those dancing adult-smurfs that Intel is using to sell it) tower. For a writer, that's pretty much all I need. Would you believe that I do all of my web stuff and band posters on a Compaq AMD 3 333mhz 32mb with a 3 Gig hard drive? It's true. I installed Photoshop and Illustrator and MS Office on that thing and it runs really slow now thanks to the 3mb of free space left on it.

God, I'm a geek.
Sign the guestbook. Damnit.

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.