The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). In a significant -- and, I think, should be rare -- upset, the Gophs take the top spot on the strength of their 3-1 week. Sadly for me, I attended their one loss, a frustrating 7-2 defeat where at one point they were retired 13 at-bats in a row and, more dispiriting, didn't get a single hit after the second inning. It actually was a mighty feat for their opponent, Indiana -- until I saw that they were blown out the other two games in their series, 14-0 and 10-0. I'm even more pissed off that I went to the one loss now. (I thought college baseball had a mercy rule?) And they broke a two-game losing streak to middling schools in midweek games, beating North Dakota St. at Fargo, 11-6, Wednesday.

Fairly exciting week coming up. Did you know that Iowa is the only bigtime name school in the state that furnishes a baseball program? Yeah, with Iowa St. discontinuing theirs early in the decade and Northern Iowa shutting theirs down after last season, if you want to be a baseball player and stay in Iowa, you'll have to be a Hawkeye. Anyway, the Gophers play at Iowa this weekend. And then they go to the Big 12 and play a pair with Kansas St. Tuesday and Wednesday.

#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). A .500 week (3-3) which featured their first series loss (this one just finished to Detroit), and their first back-to-back defeats of the season, the last team in Major League Baseball to do so. Plus, they have lost three of their last four. I smell a regression! Scott Baker isn't stepping as the potential ace the Twins still believe he could be. Only because I have him on my fantasy team, what the hell happened to Jason Kubel? Finally, it seems like they're nursing some injuries, in particular Justin Morneau. Hopefully they'll get these dings and tweaks out of the way now instead of September and October.

This week they finish their jaunt through the A.L. Central, visiting Cleveland this weekend and hosting the Tigers midweek before beginning a set with Baltimore.

#-3: Vikings (Re-Entry!). Hmmm. ... They needed a cornerback, and they drafted one in Chris Cook. But there were at least four CB's rated better than him. Could they have moved up to get, say, Kyle Wilson, or even Devin McCourty? Toby Gerhart as a complement to Adrian Peterson was done for one reason only: Fumbles. In 710 carries and catches, he has fumbled 10 times. That's what the draft's for. Can't give it a grade, but I think it was good.

#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -3). Well, you can't go into a postseason on more of a cold streak than the local box lacrosse club. They lost to the Orlando Titans last Saturday at the X, 12-11. That gave the Titans the Eastern Conference, and the Swarm a six-game losing skid. They went completely winless (0-5) in April. But, does it count that the four losses at home were all by a single goal? No? Nope, didn't think so.

Saturday night they're in Everett, Wash. to play the Washington Stealth, the team with the best record in the National Lacrosse League and home-field advantage throughout the playoffs. If they win this one ... well, it'll be a fluke and I'll have to see what the Swarm do next. I wish them luck anyway.

Oh, now you wanna be a little bitch, Father? I always get snippy when you fucking nag about recycling the papers, so deal with the piddles of newsprint I put out this week, bitch. So you're just anticipating my enmity for you when I stand around and even extend my hand for the rag to wipe down the table when you just fucking do it yourself? Even Mother noticed I wanted to help, but you were like "No!" like a baby.

Fuck you. God, how much I fucking hate you. ...

My Nightmare

Oh yeah! I forgot I had a vicious fucking nightmare this morning, my first one in ages!

I don't know how, but I remmeber being attacked by a swarm of ... something. Maybe it was bees, but I don't remmeber seeing any yellow. Could it be ants, maybe fire ants? Pirahnas? Mosquitos?

And then I felt a giant octupus or squid latch its suckers onto the back of my head. I remember struggling and shaking in my bed. I may have even screamed out as I was trying to "get away" from the sucky monster.

And then I woke up. I woke up suddenly; I even remember opening my eyes just a slit and seeing the light come through the window. And then I fell asleep.

Wow, what a fucking nightmare.

Why did I go and eat a huge, eight-dollar meal at Culver's Sunday mid-afternoon when I knew there was going to be Sunday dinner a few hours later? I don't know.

Why did I try this new place close to my house and eat a seven-dollar lunch past my self-imposed lunch deadline of one o'clock on Monday, knowing that I wasn't even that hungry (even though their white chicken chili was excellent)? I don't know.

My guesses: Boredom or my allergies.

The Sudden Closing Of Java Classics

I was beginning to like Java Classics. At first when I saw this pop up in Northtown, like, a year ago, I thought it was a certain fail. Who ever heard of a coffeehouse inside a mall, especially when I can name two around the area that are bigger?

But then I got burned out at those two places and I wanted to hang out at the mall I've known all my life, so I gave this place a try. It wasn't even a real coffeeshop with a barista and all that. No, they had these self-serve drink machines, like a gas station; you push a button to pour this drink into your cup and have to release it, like, two-thirds of the way through so it won't overflow and burn your hand.

At first I thought I was turned off by it, but then I started to notice the good parts of this place. There was a plasma TV. There were many tables and many sockets to juice up my computer. And the "coffee" was cheap, almost a third much as Dunn Bros. or Caribou. And since it was not horribly busy so I can just put on my headphones and surf the Internet in peace, I realized I was wrong; this was a great place.

I drank there about a half-dozen more times. I soon grew to like the place. There were no run-ins with strangers. I saw that a disproportionate number of customers were hot chicks (although that number was dwarfed by the number of mall walkers who would swoop in for a quick hot one). The girls working the counter were cute, too. I once wanted to pay with a credit card and the manager said he couldn't take them for purchases that cheap; he then volunteered to write up a note reminding me to pay him the next time! I was so moved by his gesture I decided to let go of my no-cash day and give him the money. The last time I was there the hot girl behind the counter (she had piercings everywhere, including her clavicle!) let me change the channel on the TV to sports. In short, I was falling in love with the place because it felt like home.

I wanted to go there again this afternoon because ... well, just because; I was in a weird state, so I wanted to just go there. I then had to run back home because Home Depot's a parking lot away and I should get an estimate on the new kitchen countertop Father's planning to put in on my way to enjoying some coffee.

I park on one side of the mall to walk all the way through the other side and Home Depot, then plan to come back to my car, dump the estimate, pick up my laptop and veg. But on my way to the Depot I check out Java Classics ... and it's all black. And when I look inside I see an even graver picture: The tables are gone. It's as if someone looted the place.

I can't believe it. The last time I drank there was Saturday. Hell, I was at the mall yesterday and walked by it. It was never packed to the gills, but every time I went by it it looked like someone was there. I thought I was wrong to believe this business would go under. I guess I was wrong about being wrong.

This sudden loss depresses me. I had no idea this was coming; I don't think the cute girls who worked there knew the store was closing. I am faced with the sudden absence of a place I had grown to love, trust and feel safe in. I think I'm OK right now because the impact of its demise hasn't sunk in yet; I suppose this denial. But this will hit me soon.

Walking back from Home Depot I looked through the closed doors one more time, except that this time one of the doors was open. I noticed the TV was also not there. Who were there were these two ladies; either one of them was showing the other what the space is like, or they're planning how to gut the remaining furnishings.

I had no choice but to stare. I wanted to know what the hell happened to Java Classics (which, turns out, is just a franchise-heavy coffee concept/business that boasts its energy drink category will "grow 67% in the next two years" [good luck with that]). But I didn't want to sound stupid. And yet I stared, enough to that one of the women there noticed me. Now I'd look dumb to scram because she noticed me, like I was a thief and she was a cop. So I just kind of looked around to make sure she was approaching me because of me.

She did -- "Can I help you?" she said.

"No, just looking," I replied, keeping my deep, abiding love for and this sudden, shocking pain of the death of Java Classics a secret.

Just in case she felt I was going to ask if this was going to be a new store, after she asked me she went around to one of the windows and took down a sign. Yes, definitely, Java Classics is done. And another place has been taken from me.

Another Reason Why I Hate Humanity: No One Cares

Heard about this story on the nightly news tonight. Would it bother them to even fucking call 911? I mean, there was one guy who took a photo of this man; if you're going to bother with doing that, why not use your phone the way it was originally intended and call someone?

The thing that bugs me the most: This guy stuck his neck out to help a stranger, yet no stranger would return the favor. Shit, the woman he helped took off and ran, too. I hope I have the common decency to at least call when I see someone dying.

All those fuckers who let this Good Samartian bleed to death are barely better than the man who stabbed him. You guys should go to hell, too.

So, are you mad at me or not mad at me? You stealing my money and you tell me to fuck off, then call me baby when serving me coffee? You don't seem to want to flash people, yet you're very affectionate to your regulars (who probably give you money -- like I did). I want to like you again because I want you to stroke my cock again. But I don't know if you like me. So why should I be warm to you and act like nothing happened when everything happened?

I'm such a clutz. I was entering the house after buying something yesterday. Somehow, after I opened the front door, I stuck my right foot behind it, on the outside. But, me being a clutz, I thought my body was free and clear of it. So when I force the door shut "behind" me, it actually hits my foot, which rebounds and hits me on the right side of my face. Ouch!

I can feel the pain all throughout my temple and my TMJ, which I had an injury from about a decade ago after snowboarding. It shook me so bad that I got a headache and had to lie down instead of writing and working outside in the garden.

Great; my TMJ's back.

---

To shut My Father's fucking mouth about doing shit around the house, I chose to be passive-aggressive. I won't clean the furniture, but I will start to patch the bare spots of the front and back lawns with seed. And I didn't have to buy it, like I originally planned; Father bought a bag, so I used that.

My headache was better, and I wanted to lay down this seed/mulch/fertilizer combo before the rains came last night. So, without an hour to go before dinner, I went out and quickly separated this huge sponge of material in the bag and laid it down on this huge bare spot inbetween one of our trees and the deck.

It was a quarter to 5 when my parents came home, way early even for a Friday. My Father didn't see me at first when he went out to the propane stove in the back deck because I was just under him. When we locked eyes and he saw the blue-green mass of crap I was laying down, he got whiny and I got infuriated because he said, "You don't have to do that! We're going to put in a new deck!"

The fuck?! Why didn't you goddamn say that?? I now have all this shit on the ground and it's just going to be dug up over the summer??? Fuck you!!! And now I had no choice but to go find another bare spot in the backyard and dump the rest of it over there. I'm not going to just pick it all up and put it back in the bag. What a fucking waste. And all because he wouldn't tell me that he's putting a new deck in.

My Fucking Father yells at me to do something, and when I do do something, he yells at me to not do it. Pisses me off.

---

Want to think Grandmother isn't going crazy, and she probably isn't, but when I don't want to talk about something, I think I make it abundantly clear.

She put this Chinese mentholated oil on my head when I banged it against the door. I was hoping that was the end of it. But during dinner she told my parents, "He banged his head against the door!"

At first I wanted to strangle her and the way she doesn't move her above her food and instead lets the food drop onto the table just under her placemat. But then I realized that I didn't want her to reveal that I banged my head against the door because my parents would then start to piss and moan about it, and me. If that's the case, who the fuck cares that I banged my head against the door? Still didn't want her to say it, but I calmed down a bit after that.

---

One of the main reasons I hate working outside is that it gets so hot I forget stuff. Happens every time. And it happened last night when going out to the gym.

I took a long shit and I needed to exchange the thing I bought earlier today for something bigger, so after finishing in the bathroom I immediately put my Tevas on and headed for the flower shop and then the gym. I hesitated for a millisecond when I put my sandals on; this didn't seem right, and I knew I was missing something, but I didn't know what it was. But I did know I'll know what I was missing as soon as I miss it, if that makes any sense.

And that moment came when I headed to the lcokerroom of the gym; wearing my sandals meant that I didn't wear socks, and I need to wear socks to work out. Shit. I could've turned back but there was only two hours to work out, so I just put on my gym shoes without socks. I feel like I've defiled my relative pristine, non-smelly shoes because I stuck my bare feet in them. This is the first time I've ever worn these sneakers without socks. But on the bright side, I know that that's a fact I'll forget about very, very soon.

---

I went to the coffeeshop after working out. After parking I opened up my trunk to get my bookbag and laptop ... and that's when I realized that not only did I forget socks, I also forgot to bring my bookbag and laptop. So now I can't spend the three hours I wanted to spend because I fucking forgot my computer?!?! Fuck me.

The only thing in my trunk that I could even read are these LSAT practice materials. I forgot that my sister was studying for the LSAT eons ago, and My Fucking Father was about to recycle every single book she used. When he ordered me to take them out to the driveway Wednesday, I took some and threw them in my trunk. I could go to law school, you know. And now it's the only thing I could occupy my time with.

So I brought those materials inside the coffeehouse. I wanted to stay there three hours; instead, after leafing through words and advice that made me think of my hours spent studying the SAT and ACT, I left after about half an hour.

The sun melted my brain, therefore my night ended prematurely.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1). In yet another runaway, the Twinkies win both of their series and go 4-2 for the week. (I have a feeling they're going to be on top of the WMNSS till Labor Day, at least). It helps, though, that they beat Kansas City and Cleveland, the two dregs of the A.L. Central. One thing I'm noticing, however: They lost the last game of both series, and it wasn't even close. This is a high-powered, locked-in lineup, and so far they have received great to sterling pitching. Do they feel so confident that they think they can take the foot off the pedal on getaway day and just sacrifice the last game? Maybe they need to pace themselves, but I don't like to see them taking games off; the best teams show no mercy. They are in the middle of facing division opponents 18 straight games; this week they're at the Royals and Detroit.

#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). Is Northwestern supposed to be any good? Because the Gophs lost two of three to them this weekend in Evanston, Ill. And then they lost to South Dakota St. in Brookings, S.D., on Tuesday. It's their third one-run game of the week, but they lost two of them. And that means they have gone down in 4 of their last 5 and 6 of their last 8. No tournament for you; are these guys too young? They're back at the Metrodome this weekend for a series against Indiana, then play at North Dakota St. Wednesday. I plan on attending Saturday evening's game; I wonder what the turnout will be, assuming it won't be raining (and thus discouraging people to go to the game)?

#-3: Swarm (Last Week: -3). I unfortunately did make it to Saturday night's game against Philadelphia. It was an entertaining game. The bad news is they lost in overtime, 13-12. And they didn't seal the deal; they had a two-goal lead after scoring a shorthanded goal, but the Wings outscored the Swarm 3-1 to send it into OT. The good news, however, is that the team trailing them, the Colorado Mammoth, lost the night before to the Boston Blazers, 9-7 (at home, by the way) to give the Swarm the fourth and final playoff spot in the Western Conference. I guess you can't just reject the berth, even though you're 5-10 and have lost five in a row.

I didn't know that, unlike the Timberwolves, there are players on the leaderboard of several stategories. Callum Crawford and Aaron Wilson are 3rd and 4th in the points board. That's a hell of a 1-2 punch ... for a team that is 5-10 and have lost five in a row. They finish the regular season at the X Saturday night against the Orlando Titans, who have sewn up the Eastern Conference title and can sew up home-field advantage throughout the playoffs with a victory. By the way, they would play at either Washington or Edmonton for the first round of the playoffs; both the Stealth and Rush can earn home-field throughout if things break the right way.

RIP, Brookdale

Before the Mall of America, the main malls in the Twin Cities area were the "Dales," each of them taking one quadrant of the metropolis. Southdale, in the south quarter of the Cities, is the first fully-enclosed mall in the United States. There is also Rosedale, which takes the eastern portion, and Ridgedale, which gets the western part.

In the North there is Brookdale, but from the looks of it the last two times I went there, not for long. I went there to see if I could get a bite to eat a couple months ago and I was shocked at how empty it was. I needed a second visit this afternoon to confirm, and believe it or not it was even emptier.

The directory is a joke; 90% of the stores listed there are gone. This reminds me of another visit to a ghost mall, Apache Plaza, I took about 15-20 years ago. I never thought I'd see another place so huge fail in attracting any business. But now there's Brookdale.

It's not a bad-looking place; major renovations were made in six years ago. But there is no one, and I mean no one, taking advantage of it. Walking back and forth from one end to the other, I counted, get this, eight stores in the mall. Total. Of those, the GNC was packing up their inventory right in front of me; Payless Shoes and one mom-and-pop jewelry store were having huge clearance sales, meaning they're gone very soon; and the in-store photo place had a sign announcing it was moving to Northtown, soon to be the only viable mall in the North Metro.

That means there are only four stores that, as far as I can tell, aren't getting the fuck out of Dodge immediately. One of them is a clothing store that doesn't even have a sign up, so I don't know what the fuck's going on with them. If not for the Champs Sports, Foot Locker and, of all things, the only Sears within miles of my house, Brookdale would be completely dead. For now, it's in a long-term coma.

It's sad. When I was young, going to this mall was pretty special, as opposed to going to Northtown, which my brother and I were taken to so many times. When I got my license, an early goal of mine was trying to get to Brookdale by myself. I had gone there regularly as a high schooler, and I would enter through the same entrance when we were taken there by Grandmother and our aunt: The Dayton's anchor store, where we'd breeze through and look for jeans but never buy them. Several years ago there was a Greek restaurant that had these very salty but to-die-for french fries I would eat, and there was a Barnes & Noble I would go to when I was burned out at the one closest to my house.

I don't know why exactly, but the exodus began with the departure of Mervyn's and JC Penney 6, 7 years ago and it has accelerated since. The presence of the Megamall is not an issue because they're on opposite sides of the metro area. There are newer suburbs and white flight going on, but that's in areas about 15-20 minutes away. The area is getting a little poorer and shadier, but there are still people who live in the area. That it could be seen as transforming into an urban enclave in the suburbs, and thus not a desirable place to put a chain store within the city's strip mall, is the only reason I can think for Brookdale dying.

But dying it is, and like I say, it's breathtaking. With the close of the Vietnamese restaurant, there is nothing in the food court -- nothing. And not only is the Dayton's store gone, the entire wing of Dayton's -- which comprises half the damn mall -- is completely vacant. There were huge signs on walls fronting some wings of the mall that said "More Shopping Ahead" -- uh, I don't think so.

I was virtually alone in this empty wing. Around where there used to be a play area now stands a pair of forlorn benches. For a second I thought of sitting down for a bit and reflecting on a life wasted, but I concluded that would be redundant. Nevertheless, a stroll through here was as empty as my soul.

It really is a shame. I could see the mom-and-pop clothing store, Champs and Foot Locker all closing. And since there has to be a satellite building somewhere, Sears could easily move out. Leaving Brookdale, a mall that opened 48 years ago, a place I once saw teeming with wonder and humanity, officially, instead of virtually, extinct.

Feeling Screwed By The Doctor

After putting off getting my teeth checked for about two years and finding out I had two cavities, I was motivated to get this pain in my heel checked out. And my throat too -- I was gurgling some mouthwash and when I choked it out of my mouth I think I strained my throat muscles. So I didn't wait and erred on the side of caution; I decided to take the $3 co-pay hit and go to the doctor to get these fixed.

I requested the same guy who checked me out for my physical around the New Year. Didn't think he was as good as the one I had two doctors ago, who seemed to be thorough while making me feel like he cared for me. But the guy I had is already familiar with my history, so I thought it'd be best for me to go back to him again. Well, maybe that was the wrong decision.

First off the nurse really wasn't pleasant to me. She wasn't rude either, but she was aloof, like she had other things she needed to do. And that was reflected in the doctor, who, in a refreshing change, dropped in a minute after the nurse was done with me. I remember being in Dr. Stenzel's office with my mom for huge periods of time. This is better, a whole lot better. I got up to get a cup of water after the nurse gagged me by sticking a swab down the back of my tongue for a strep throat test, and the next thing I know the doctor barges through the door ... and telling me to sit down. Doc, I'm just getting some water, thank you.

Again, he wasn't the greatest, and yet during this visit he didn't just seem distracted, he seemed uncaring. Not actively contemptible of my presence, but processing me through, like I was waiting in line to get my tabs at the DMV. They upgraded to total electronic records at my clinic (a good thing -- thank you, progress!) and the whole time he was just staring at the screen, typing away. The only times he looked at me were when he was examining my foot (plantar fascitis seems to be the diagnosis -- and by the way, he never did say anything about my throat, although he gave me something for my allergies) and telling me to sit down at the other chair in the room. He actually barked at me twice to go from sitting at the operating table to sitting on the chair. And that was the point where I thought to myself, "Um, don't talk to me like that."

So he gave me a lot of drugs (two bottles of ibuprofen? Really??? I'm not my Father!). I'm not saying he doesn't know what he's doing, I just don't believe in better living through chemistry. Maybe my big beef in all this is his lack of a bedside manner, which I should guard against. According to Freakonomics, patients who sue for medical malpractice against their primary care physicians disproportionately claim that their doctors didn't really care for them or listened to them. However, it turns out that the errors are made regardless of whether the doctors were good or terrible at communicating. So I will take it on faith that this doc knows that the pills and the spray and these heels and the easing of exercise for a month (!) will cure all my ills.

So why do I find him still wanting? Doesn't matter if he's a dick; if he solves my problems, who cares, right? Ah, the Gregory House way of treating patients. No, it doesn't matter, and the only reason I didn't lose my temper is that maybe he is trying to heal my ailments. I doubt, however, that he truly gave a shit. I found him wanting. And I have to admit, the next time I have something wrong with me, I might not go see him, nor another doctor, to fix it.

Oftentimes, although it's usually about something that affects him, I think about My Father. And most of the time it's about how he's going to react, or rather how pissed and/or whiny he's going to be. I frequently get internally worked up about what I imagine he would do or say, so much so I act out. That's usually why I get into these spells about My Fucking Father when I'm alone in the bathroom or my bedroom.

I thought about him a lot when taking a shower last night, which is the only reason (besides residual resentment stemming from 34 years of being a bad father) I did what I did, and maybe why he'll pay me back for it later on.

Tonight he wanted me to help him fill out some papers for his business. I thought I was done and retreated into my room for some TV and wasting my life away. About 10 minutes later I hear footsteps, each getting louder. I was getting up when I heard My Father ask for me from the other side of the door.

I leap up. The only light emanating from my room was the TV screen, and Father didn't bother to turn on the hallway lights, so I turned it on to see what exactly he was holding in his hands. (It was the same papers I helped him fill out.) And then I remember him cleaning my fucking room and telling me to clean said fucking room. So to make sure his eyes weren't prying, I stepped through the threshold, shut the door and waved my hands to the dining room area, where we would have more room to talk ... away from my bedroom. And he hesitated and flinched the door's way. I knew in his mind he was saying, "Why in the fuck did you close that door? How dare you, motherfucker?!"

He didn't say anything immediately after that; he just said something about calling the company and clearing up what exactly the forms are for. Yet I have to await retaliation.

Father was on my case as I helped him with Sunday steak dinner, really pissing me off. I was entranced by 60 Minutes' first hidden camera investigation in ages. I only halfway noticed that the steak I had, the steak for which we -- OK, Father -- prepared the salad, I prepared the bread, and I even broke out the wine -- was full of gristle. I'd finally cut off a piece, stick it in my mouth, try and fail to break it down, realize I couldn't eat it, then take it out of my mouth. After the show was over I realized about a quarter of the steak lay to the side of my plate in a pile of chewed-up fat.

The others were finished and cleaning up. When my Grandmother offered me more stuff to put on the steak -- you know, the onions and peppers, what do you call that? -- I agreed giddily. And then, from the kitchen, My Fucking Mother roared out, "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" What the fuck? I wasn't eating, Mother, I was chewing, and I ate as much as I usually do eating steak, it just took me longer because a quarter of it was inedible gristle. Whatev.

Forget About That Stupid Bumper Sticker Saying, "Start Seeing Motorcycles" -- When The Hell Are Motorcycles Going To Start Seeing Us???

I've recently heard the arrogance of these bicycle extremists, pedalers who take advantage of the green movement and flout the rules of the road, even yelling at pedestrians and flipping off drivers who actually are obeying the laws. But I've always had a thing against people on motorcycles because for years they've done the exact same thing. I thought they've been better lately, but then this incident on Friday happened.

I've been trying to get to "work" but was late because ambushed me with a call-in for her meds and then didn't know where the code for one of her meds were. I would've been only 5 minutes late instead of 15. Anyway, I was at the stoplight and I hear this roar to the left of me. Then I look and see it's a motorcycle, a big white shiny one (therefore it's not a Harley-Davidson/a "real" motorcycle) pull up. The guy on it was white, had sunglasses and a mullet and, of course, had no helmet on.

And then, as if he wanted to live down to his stereotype, he turns off of his lane, cuts between my car and the car in front of me, and looks at the oncoming traffic. I'm turning right, and now this asshole is turning right right in front of me! You have to wait your fucking turn, prick, and it doesn't matter that you're in a motorcycle!!!

I'm pissed. So the only thing I could do is quickly spin my wheels and take a right as soon as this biker takes a right. And now we're going where we want to go, but in separate lanes. I don't know if he suspect anything. If I really wanted to communicate my displeasure at his cutting in line, I would've moved over a lane, or cut in front of him. And I still have half a mind thinking I should've done that.

There are just so many people who think motorcycle riders are the victims here. They don't seem to get that it's their choice to ride a two-wheeled death machine really fast, and the fact that others are in four doesn't mean they have to give a shit seems lost on them -- "But these guys are so vulnerable!!!" No, they're not, because I see them all the goddamn time weaving in and out of traffic without signaling and revving their engines loud enough to blow my ears out at intersections. They go out of their way to say, "We're bikers, we're here, get used to it!" And we have to move over for them when they're the ones not following the rules, like this son-of-a-bitch??? Fuck that.

I wish I had that guy's license; I would rat on him.

Broke The Head Of Father's Precious Statue

Why did I kowtow to My Fucking Father's demands? This is what happens. He keeps bitching to me about cleaning the living room none of us uses, so yesterday I make his cranky ass happy by wiping down the leather couches.

They all have these cushions that flip over, so I try to be a completist and wipe the front, the side and the back of each of these cushions. When I flip one of these over, I hear a crash.

This couch is against the bay window in front of our house, and there's a huge sill where my parents put a lot of their crap. The only two of My Fucking Father's things on there are these two statues that seem to be made of stone and depict Chinese figures. They're about a half-foot tall and of dubious value; he thinks it's worth stuff, I don't.

I made sure to pick up all the things the cushion knocked over ... and that's when I see one of these statues in two places; the head is a couple inches away from the body. I am in shock as I try to put them together even though the head is clearly broken from the body. But fuck me, it's broken. Oh great, now it'll turn out that it indeed is priceless.

I wanted to get coffee after cleaning, but of course this shit has to come up. So now I have a choice. At first I thought I'd just fucking show My Fucking Father what he made me do: "This is what happens when you fucking bitch at me about cleaning the goddamn house!!!" And I really was spoiling for a fight, I really thought that is what I should do. But after spacing out with my mocha ice cream shake I decide to do what I usually do: Not volunteer the truth, try and make it look nothing happened and just ignore the problem altogether.

So what do I need? Super glue! I had to stay out just to go to fucking Walmart -- ugh, I feel like I have to take a shower after heading into that white trash Disneyland -- and keep the super glue in my car. After heading out to exercise that night, I made sure they were well asleep before sneaking out onto the living room late at night, taking the torso and disembodied head of this purportedly valuable statue, take both into my room, and fuse the two together.

I think it worked. I put it back where it was without incident. And I just have to hope that My Fucking Father doesn't look closely enough to notice the crack ringing the statue's neck.

See, this is why you shouldn't feel like you need to fucking clean the house every goddamn day. Father's an asshole.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1). The way these guys are playing now, they are going to fucking run this town all the way through Labor Day. They went 4-2 this week and they have now won all three series so far this season.

I have to admit that I wanted Monday's first-ever game at Target Field to be rained out because that would point out the worth of the Metrodome. It's a shitty place to play baseball, but the new stadium cost $550 million, and when I was at the Dome for Game 163, I didn't give a shit that it was being played inside. Anwyay, the weather was admittedly great, save for some lasting drizzle Wednesday afternoon, which was also a landmark: The first-ever Twins loss at The Bullseye. However, they did beat Boston that Monday opener and Thursday afternoon, both in impressive fashion. This week they complete their homestand against divsion rivals/doormats Kansas City (Zach Greinke hurls for the Royals Friday night) and Cleveland.

#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). A 1-3 week puts predictions they'll be in the postseason in serious jeopardy. A 6-3 win Sunday afternoon prevented a sweep by Michigan St. Shit, they lost at the Dome to fuckin' South Dakota St.! Maybe things'll be better travelling on the road to face Northwestern for three this weekend, followed by a return game against the Jackrabbits Tuesday at Brooking, S.D.

#-3: Swarm (Last Week: -4). Ugh. First of all, I apologize to the Swarm from noticing that they actually played two games last weekend and not the one I assumed they would play. Now the NLL team should apologize to its fans for losing both, at home to Rochester and at Boston. That means they are in the middle of a four-game losing streak, and the comfortable lead on the Colorado Mammoth has been reduced to a game. In other words, Saturday's home game against Philadelphia (who are tied with Colorado for worst record in the league at 4-10) somewhat important. (Meanwhile, the Mammoth host Boston. Aside: Just noticed that the Swarm's last four games are against the Eastern Conference, even though the team plays in the Western Conference. The hell?) I will be at the game because I need to get out and I haven't seen the team play yet.

#-Infinity (tie): Wild and Timberwolves (Last Week: -3 and -5, respectively). Yet another winter where the two franchises that should keep Minnesota sports fans busy and warm with thrilling, winning play fail us miserably.

Who's better? Well, neither team made the playoffs, so that's an academic question. Their one game "this week" was very humiliating: A 4-3 shootout loss to The Team That Was Stolen From Us. Once again, The Team That Is Supposed To Be In Minnesota comes to St. Paul and clowns The Team That Is In Minnesota. Mike Modano playing his last game in front of the fans he should've been playing in front of all along was a nice, right touch. Still, the Wild finish their season losing five of six.

So where do they go now? They have the ninth pick in the draft, which means they won't get the star that will change their game. They instead have to whip the players they have into shape. Let's home GM Chuck Fletcher knows what to do given his meager change vehicles.

I don't know if David Kahn has the means or the ability to change the absolutely hopeless situation the Woofie Dogs are in now. I went to the season finale Wednesday against Detroit, and I thought they would avoid mathching the 1991-2 season as their worst ever. But they blew a 16-point lead early in the fourth quarter and lost, 103-98, finishing with only 15 goddamn wins.

The friend I was with at the game pointed out a problem I didn't think of: They hired Kurt Rambis as Head Coach after the NBA Draft, meaning he was installing a system without being able to provide any input into who might best fit into that system. A lot of people say Jonny Flynn is not the Point Guard for Rambis's Triangle Offense. But would Kahn take yet another fucking Guard when they need some athleticism on the down low? Well, they need help everywhere, but I swear to fucking God, if the Wolves draft yet another Guard.

Seriously, if someone from, like, Las Vegas purchased this team from Glen Taylor and said he wanted a whole new arena for the Timberwolves or else he'll move the team, the city will demand he pay the remaining years on the lease and say, "Get the fuck out of our city now!" And who would give a shit that they'd be leaving. I deplore franchise relocation, but this? This I wouldn't sweat.

The People Who Humiliate Themselves By Dressing Up Like The Statue Of Liberty

I should blog about this because after Thursday/today/Tax Day, they'll be gone. ...

It was about a month ago when I was driving and saw this person in a turquoise robe. As I crossed the intersection I saw the pointy-headed foam hat he had on and realized that he was dressing up like Lady Liberty. A little later I got that this man was in costume for a tax company.

I keep seeing these people on the sides of streets, waving at drivers, all day and night, regardless of whether it's hot or cold, windy or dry, raining or snowing. All of them are black, so I'm assuming the company hired people really quickly for dirt cheap, just to wave to strangers driving really fast past them in an effort to advertise their company's tax services.

First I felt sorry for them. Disproportionally represented race-wise, these guys were hired to do the shittiest work you could find without getting really, really dirty. The self-debasement of putting on a really silly costume and stand at a corner all day to look like a fool for a tax company ... there's just something wrong with that. And I doubt such advertisement works except to raise the possibility someone will recognize you and have their image of you changed irrevocably. Man, I thought, I'm so glad I'm not them.

But then I thought, Well, they're getting paid, right? People gotta work, and if these poor people can only find work smiling in a cheap Statue of Liberty custome, well, so be it. I mean, it could be worse -- they could be shovelling shit, or working in a cubicle. And let's just say you don't have to have a master's degree to do this. Hell, you probaly don't have to show up on time, either. I'm laughing at them? They're the ones who are employed, not me. I should be envious.

Whatever. They're out of a job as of tomorrow.

Forgetful Grandmother

Grandmother forgot her keys. She was being taken by a friend to Sam's Club, and she forgot to take her keys with. She actually went to my parents' store to get theirs. Man, she's going to catch hell from My Fucking Father for this ... if she hasn't already.

Update On The Man Who Challenged My Authority And Leadership

After I shut him down, he sent me a message. Thinking it was a slam at me, I didn't think I should bother with it, and on the off-hand chance it wasn't, I decided to make a folder for it and put it aside until cooler heads prevailed. Well, my head is still not cool, but I decided to read it now because I realized one thing: He was in my other league I run this time of year, the basketball league, and he's leading there with one day left to go. For some reason I think it's rude of me to continue to shut him down the last day of a league even if it isn't affected by this shutdown, so I think I need to lift the freeze today.

The message was not a profanity-laced one. Instead, it accuses me of overreacting. He thought pointing out my mistake was the end of it. Apparently we have a disagreement on who gets the last laugh and when. I still think I shouldn't be showed up like he did. But I'll just unfreeze him and hope he doesn't try to make a big deal out of it.

Sometimes, it's better to be feared than respected. And fuck being loved.

I Have A Cavity

Actually, I have two. Well, the supervisor dentist says one for sure, and one possibly. So in other words, two.

Cavities? Really, cavities? Isn't that something only kids get? I remember getting tons of them when I was young and didn't know the consequences of getting them, all the bad memories of getting silver and then plastic injected into the tops of my molars for the rest of my life. Father and Mother always yelled at me to brush my teeth, but I didn't listen till I was well older. I was clean, cavity-free ... until today.

I really thought I could cheat this, I really, really, rilly thought I could. I had gone, what, nine months between cleanings at my old, expensive place that won't take my new insurance. Maybe it was a year. Anyway, what's another 18 months ... or two years? I brush regularly ... enough. I floss more than I have in the past ... a little. I've started rinsing more ... a tad. But now I have cavities?

It's not the pop, nor the coffee. It's the fact that I didn't come in for a checkup in some time. If I came in earlier, they could've cleaned up all that plaque and calicification and shit. Then I could continue my acid-guzzling ways and not worry because it'll be cleaned up in 6 or 9 or 12 months. I thought I could it put off going to the dentist for a while. But I was wrong.

The thing that disgusts me now is, Why did I wait so fucking long? What was I doing all this time? And I'm thinking: OK, I ended my old insurance in late 2008 ... was rejected the first time I applied with the state, so I waited ... after the grace period I applied again and got accepted, in June or so ... geez, I had USC and Vikings committments in the fall, but it's not as if I was busy at all. Why the hell didn't I prevent all this in 2009? I don't have an excuse like work that prevents me to get to other chores like this; I have all the time in the world. Well ... maybe it's because I have so little going for me that I forget to do even the most menial self-maintenance tasks. You see, if I were working, I'd be on the ball, and then I'd remember to get a checkup -- and I wouldn't have to worry about switching insurance and thus waiting. Well, maybe that would be the case.

Oh, who am I kidding? The bottom line is, I fucked up. This was entirely preventable. I ignored it thinking it was no big deal. Right now my mood is No Big Deal. But it is, and it should be. And this isn't like going back to school: 1) I'm not spending thousands of dollars on a dental checkup; and 2) there's nothing not to like about a cleaning. Sure, it's a pain to schedule and go and sit there and open your mouth wide and spit and shit, but it's nothing like going to class two times a week towards something you may or may not use. Bottom line: My teeth were going to get clean. It may be overkill at 6 months, but I took it way too far, so now what do I have? Something only kids get. Fuck me.

(Oh, I have to add one thing: The cute girl who checked my teeth today did the same strange thing the last woman to check my teeth did: She asked me about my hygiene habits. Only this one was a tad more scrutinizing and condescending about it: "Maybe cutting down to one pop a day would be a good start?" And the phrase that bugged me the worst: "What are we going to do then?" We? We??? Look, you can do this however the fuck you like. I may do this, or I may not do this and say to you I did. But we? Us? What are you, my kindergarten teacher?)

So what did I do after I heard this devastating news? I went to my car and finished the KFC/A&W root beer I left there before walking to the clinic. And then I went to this coffeeshop for a mocha, even though I wasn't thirsty or cold. Why? What does it fucking matter now? I have holes in my teeth. I wanted them saved, but now they're fucked and it's my fault. I gambled and I was wrong, so there's no use to start being good now.

Weird Tine With Father Again ... Again

I saw some racket around the time Seinfeld was coming on. I go outside to see Father sitting on the recliner, strumming a huge Chinese porcelain bowl like it was a guitar, vacantly looking at the floor. He looked like he wanted to talk to me again, but although I feel really bad, I couldn't stand any more of that shit he did last night. I just told him I'll take the photos of his painting tomorrow, and I retreated into my room.

Is he dying or something? Hope not.

Weird Tine With Father Again

All I wanted to do was go home and have some cake. But as soon as I enter last night I see Father trodding upstairs with whole milk. He asks me for a favor downstairs, and all of a sudden I'm talking to him -- actually, he's talking at me -- for 45 goddamn minutes. Does he realize that he's talking to me about his paintings and his real estate properties again? That he's saying these goddamn things to me again? I'm not saying they're not important; I'm saying that I'm tired and I don't think I need to hear information you vomited toward me already, especially information I can't do anything with.

He wore me out. I went to bad after that.

So my sister e-mails me about the clothes I gave to her friend. There's one more, and apparently we had it, still. Which means My Fucking Father starts looking around trying to figure out where this mysterious article is. That means he went into my sister's room, where all my stuff was (even though he was the asshole who put it there). "Clean this up!" he said, again, to which I lie to him, again, "I'm working on it."

My sis led me into another confrontation with My Fucking Father again, but fuck it, it's not as if she planned on doing this. Besdies, I'm pissed at him because I can't find my goddamn tax docments. I knew where they were before My Fucking Father moved all my shit out of the house, and now I can't find it. Goddamn him...

Instead of cleaning up my stuff, I'm at a Borders at a mall. I imagine him coming home and seeing nobody here and all these papers lying around and getting pissed off. What are you going to do, Father? Shouldn't I be mad for making me get an extension on my taxes? Asshole.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Re-Entry!). Not a bad start! OK, so they foresook the chance to go undefeated for the year with their Opening Night loss to the Los Angeles Angels Of Anaheim Angels of Los Angeles Angles of Anaheim Angles Of ... but then they took the last three games of the series, in regular (5-3), small (4-2) and biggie size (10-1). I'm not impressed with Scott Baker or Jose Mijares yet, and Jon Rauch still scares me, but maybe Kevin Slowey has got it locked in. More importantly, the bats are coming through as expected. Can they keep this going with their trip to the South Side against the Chicago White Sox? After that, they open up Target Field with three against the Boston Red Sox.

#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). Also went 3-1 for the week, including taking the back two of a three-game series at Purdue over the weekend. I put them second because of their loss, a 3-2, 10-inning setback where they held a 2-0 lead until the Boilermakers tied it in the bottom of the ninth. Along with a 10-3 victory over Hamline Tuesday, the Minnesota college nine seems to be off to a good start as well, at least in Big Ten play. And like the Twins, they start a new era in new digs this week: They're in the Metrodome for good, starting with a series against Michigan St. Friday through Sunday. By the way, congratulations are in order to Outfielder Michael Kvasnicka for being named conference Player Of The Week.

#-3: Wild (Last Week: -4). If you weren't a baseball team, you outright blew this week. These guys aren't exactly finishing on a high note, going 1-3 this week. I know Todd Richards is starting the rookies these last few games, but still, their only win was a shootout victory against Calgary last (Thursday) night. They scored too little, too late at home to San Jose, somehow scored two goals after an empty-netter to force overtime at Vancouver, only to give up a penalty early in OT and allow the game-winner, and then were completely uncompetitive against the worst team in the league, Edmonton. They scored nine goals in the four games this week. This year can't finish soon enough.

Their last game: Tomorrow (Saturday) night against The Team That Was Stolen From Us and Mike Modano. I have conflicted feelings about him. I know he's a good guy and he might be retiring after this year, and I think the schedule-makers wanted him to have his possible final game in the place he was drafted in -- and where he should've played his entire career. But he's the enemy now. He has to maintain his allegiance with Dallas, but that doesn't mean we should be cheering for him. And that's what I'm looking forward to the least. Are we Wild fans going to give him a standing ovation? Why? He should belong to us, but he doesn't. Any standing O for him is complicit approving the North Stars being taken from us. I'm serious, because that's true.

#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -2). Their game this week was a loss to Edmonton, but that it was at the X isn't the most noticeable thing about this. What's noticeable is that they had a five-goal lead going into the fourth quarter and shit their pants; the Rush won it in overtime. The magic number to clinch a playoff spot remains at two because Colorado apparently won last weekend. Meanwhile, the Swarm host Rochester Friday night (tonight).

#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). Lost all three games this week. I was at the Golden State game Wednesday -- what an abortion. The Warriors shot hot, but rarely did the Woofie Dogs put a face on the shooters. Stephen Curry was absolutely phenomenal, and surprisingly deft at the point; whenever the Wolves tried to double team, Curry snapped it to the open man before they closed in. He notched 27 points, 14 assists and 7 steals. And I'm sitting there thinking, Why in the fuck didn't we draft this guy? The leading scorer in this game? Anthony fucking Tolliver. Who? But he had, like 26 before halftime and 34 for the game. Really?

Thank Buddha this is their last week. The final four: vs. the Bastard Minneapolis Lakers (which, by the way, was not televised. Why isn't this going to be on TV? I mean, yeah, it's the Wolves, but it's also the Lakers. Fucking confounds me), at the Bastard Charlotte Hornets, at San Antonio, and finally, home against Detroit. I will be at that game. I think they can beat the Pistons. Then again, I thought they'd beat Golden State.

Update

Oh yeah ... remember that I talked about this guy I knew from high school, the one who facebooked me, the one who owes me thirty bucks?

Well, a few weeks ago, after I called him out on it, and after several days of silence, he dropped his friend request.

Asshole.

Stupid Commercial: Census

Yeah, returning census forms are kewl!



Really? Adding a chintzy hip-hop beat and a lame rap interlude is supposed to get Generation Y to send in personal information?? Really???

What The Fuck Was I Thinking Now?

Father told me this afternoon that we were eating pizza, so what do I do?  I go watch a movie ... where I always get popcorn and Coke.  I was going to stuff my face this evening and I go and stuff my face this fucking afternoon.

Why in the hell did I do this?  I had something to write; I could've done that this afternoon.  (Shit, I'm doing this now and it's about last night's title game -- this is already old!)  I could've gotten my oil changed.  I could've returned home and rummaged through my papers to find my tax documents.  I could've done any of those things and prevented myself from stuff my face.  But instead I decided to take in a movie.  And it was Clash Of The Titans, which was very mediocre and starred Sam Worthington.  I've seen all three of his movies.  I'm not impressed with his acting in any of those films, and yet I keep watching him.  And I spent $12.75 watching something I could've gone through the rest of my life not watching.  That qualifies as a waste.

So why did I do it?  In a confusion of thoughts this afternoon I kind of decided on this, I guess.  Some shit happened this morning, stuff I'll get to some later time, and I wanted to give myself a break.  I could've had my car serviced today, but I figured I could do it Friday, and it'll be sunnier then, and there's a chance the mechanic might be in a foul mood because of the rain today, and besides I need gas, and the gas station attached to the repair shop for some reason has prices higher than other places, so I'll wait. ...  Something like that.  And the rain dampened my mood for filing my column.  I thought I would get my oil changed if I didn't see any good movie when I arrived there, but I thought ten minutes was enough to wait for COTT.

Worse yet, not only did we eat pizza, we ate at 5:30, about two hours after I finished my tub of popcorn.  I usually voraciously wolf down five, six, even seven slices of pizza, even in my advanced age.  But with my full stomach, I had trouble finishing my fifth pizza.  I probably consumed 3,000-500 calories today, and with Dancing With The Stars on tonight I won't be exercising it off.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Mental Note:

That song I like a lot: Whtie Zombie, "Thunder Kiss '65."

Now, to remember the name of that instrumental song I first heard way back in summer school.  I keep hearing it from time to time and even catching the piano player's name, but I keep forgetting. ...

A Challenge To My Authority And My Leadership

I will be oblique when offering details, but I will say this: After a dinner conversation I had last night, I only bolster my belief I'm not cut out to work.  I was burned out by the time I lost my jobs partly because I hated getting manipulated by my superiors.  I mean, life's too short; why in the hell would I want to spend a third of my day, and my life, hating what I do and hating the people I do it with.  And being out of a full-time job the past three years hasn't made me forget; in fact, it's only steeled my resolve against it.

I might like a job more if I had authority, but even that sucks.  If more responsibilities comes more accountability, and all I would want out of a leadership position are the money, the perks, the ability to go when the fuck I want, and the control -- specifically, the control to fire people that I don't like.  I can understand why they could be let go if there's problems with the company, but I wouldn't feel good about it.  I certainly wouldn't have the stones to do it without feeling like I'm going to kill myself afterward.  How can anyone feel good playing God like that?  These people have lives to live, a family to support, dreams dashed because you say "The economy's not good, so we have to let you go."  No, too chickenshit to do that.  But firing people who piss you off?  Well, that's change we can all believe in.  I would love, absolutely luv to terminate the employment of someone I hated -- yeah, guess I get the last word, motherfucker ... now get the fuck outta here, or I'll call security and the police and have your ass arrested too!  That would so more than make up for firing anyone that didn't deserve it.

Alas, I was told by the people I was having this conversation with over a very fine dinner that you can't do that because it's possibly illegal and definitely unprofessional.  Man, who gives a fuck about being professional?  All business is personal, right?  I can't work personally detached from what I do.  I am what I work; there really is no other reason to work.  Apparently that's not how The Real World operates.  So I guess I'll stay away a while longer.

What happened this afternoon ties into that deep talk.  I lead a fantasy baseball league whose draft was online this past weekend.  There has to be a waiver list ranked for those who want to get other players that weren't drafted.  I thought Yahoo! would automatically do it for me, but they didn't, so I had to do it.  I thought, and I still think, that waiver priority is ranked according to your first round draft position.  For the league I run, that is in reverse order of finish the previous season.  Since I was last last year, I got the first pick this year, and thus the first pick in the waiver order.

Well, that's what I think it is.  Apparently someone else in the league thought it was the exact opposite order, and he bitched about it, on the boards, and not in a very ... professional way.  (He was the guy who won the league last year; there's a new person this year, which means he gets second in the waiver order to start out the season.)  I don't appreciate being showed up like that.  I think as a commissioner I deserve more respect.  As a human I'm entitled to some more decency.

But I didn't want to get into a pissing match with him, especially if I'm wrong.  So I just changed it.  Probably won't matter much, I'll probably lose anyway.  But I was just hoping that he wouldn't respond and that'd be the end of it.  Oh no.  In his reply he boasted about winning back-to-back and, most disrespectfully, he had to say that he was pointed out a mistake I made.  Man, I am this close to throwing this asshole out of my league.  But I have to be ... professional about it.  So I'm going to let this one go.  Well, OK, I didn't exactly do that.  I replied that I thought Yahoo! leagues start the season's waiver order the way I think it's done, and then I told him that what he said about me was "tacky."  So let's see if he wants to mouth off to this, then I'll have reason to throw his ass out of my league.

The one thing that scares me about all of this: What happens if I know this guy?  Like, he was someone I was acquainted with in college?  It would not be the right idea to throw him out if I actually know him.  Or maybe I would, because this fantasy baseball league is all I have right now.

Saw a friend.  Bumped into another friend who invited us to a pub on the West Bank.  Didn't know there was music going on so there was a cover.  OK.

They left about 20 minutes after I got there.  So I had a choice: Stay and listen to the band, or leave after finishing my beer.  If the former, it could suck, and I would miss Bob Valvano's "Match Game" in the midnight hour on ESPN Radio.  If the latter, I would've wasted the five dollar cover for a 20-minute beer.  I'm cheap, so I stay.  Don't wanna a chug a beer.

Well, the band was mediocre, but at least their set was only a half hour, so I was done by 1:20.  Better yet, when I turned on the radio on my way home, guess what I heard?  He delayed "Match Game" by an hour!  So I didn't miss anything at all!!

This is supposed to be a depressing, angry blog, but I had nothing else to talk about.

Can't Escape My Modem Problems

Modem fuckin' buggin' all goddamn day and night.  Planned on going to the coffeehouse tonight after the art show anyway because I had my fantasy baseball draft.  At least the Internet there is much more stable.

Things are going swimmingly with my online draft.  I'm actually happy with my players.  But then, third round from the last, my screen goes dark and my computer's telling me the connection's been lost.  But that can't be totally true because I can still see the countdown clock telling how much time I have left to make my pick.  So I wait, then I try to reload the screen, then I go back and try and click on a new screen.  Everything else is still working on the Internet except this, which is still trying to load.

Finally, after going back and reclicking, I have the live draft page up and running ... just in time to see the computer automatically make my second consecutive pick.  (Since I was at the end of the snake draft I got to pick back-to-back ... well, the computer picked for me.)  So I now have Jose Lopez, a man I've never heard of, and busted Adrian Beltre instead of the two pitchers I needed to round out my roster.  Right now, I am lacking a player in one of my Pitching spots.  Which one of these scrubs do I give up?

Oh yeah, and the new guy in my draft, the one invited through a friend, someone I've never met before, this asshole just drafted Dodgers.  If you're going to do that, why don't you just not do fantasy baseball and just go fucking watch the Dodgers?

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). The only team this week to win more than one game. Specifically they won two games and dropped two games. I bore witness to one of those losses: The first-ever game at Target Field. The stadium looks awesome. It's certainly much better than the Metrodome. Now, if we should have spent $450 million to build it, that's another matter. At least the Gophers can now play at the Dome and away from Siebert Field, although that old ballpark has its own charm.

Anyway, they didn't do themselves or our new stadium any justice; they got drubbed there 9-1, scoring that lone run in the bottom of the ninth on give-'em-sumpin' effort by the first-ever winners at Target Field, Louisiana Tech. Great for them, and it was interesting to see a baseball team you don't get to see every day. But only that team showed up. They did beat the Bulldogs on Friday and defeat Concordia-Moorhead at the Dome on Wednesday. The begin Big Ten play this week with three at Purdue.

#-2: Swarm (Re-Entry!). A 1-1 weekend. It was important that they clipped off that win at Calgary, even if they lost all their piss the next night in a loss to Edmonton. The good news is that the playoff race may be over already; the 4th-place Swarm are three games up on Colorado for the final spot in the Western Conference playoff chase. They host Edmonton Saturday.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). They won only one game this week, but I was at the one game they won, which ended their losing streak at 16 and averted setting a franchise-worst record; that's why I put them above the Wild. It was far from a perfect game and I can see that there'd be a talent and chemistry if the Woofie Dogs faced any contender. But I have to say that I was impressed by Darko Milicic in this game. He and Al Jefferson (and you can throw in Kevin Love too) play just about the same position, but if Donnie Darko really commits to rebounding more and scoring less, can he slide into the center spot and free Big Al to play the 4, his natural position? OK, a guy can dream.

They lost to Orlando and Phoenix this week as well, so no, they're nowhere near where they should be. This week: a weekend backer-to-backer (home to Miami then at the Bastard Seattle SuperSonics Easter Evening? On consecutive nights?? Specifically less than 24 hours between games???), then Wednesday hosting Golden State and another great rookie, Stephen Curry. I have tickets to this game and am looking forward to see my friend's debacle of a squad.

#-4: Wild (Last Week: -1). This isn't the end, but you can see it from here. They are nine points from the Bastard Quebec Nordiques and the final playoff spot in the Western Conference, so if anybody sneezes tonight, the Wild are out. That's what you get when you reel off yet another 1-2 week like they did in beating Los Angeles but getting the shit kicked out of them by two playoff teams, Detroit and Chicago (the latter being at home Wednesday night by a score of 4-0). They still can't score, they just can't.

For the Wild to even have a chance they have to win every single game on their schedule from here on out. Tonight they host conference-leading San Jose ... OK, not gonna happen. They also take one final road trip to the Western Provinces this week -- at Vancouver, Edmonton and Calgary. They'll be taking the same trip this week their co-tenants, the Swarm, did last week. Funny.

For the third and final time I tried to help My Mother find a video clip of Julia Child baking something.  We stumbled onto a different recipe and we both thought that meant that there are clips of her doing every single recipe on the Internet.  That isn't the case -- and I spent a good hour waiting between hiccups by my disgraceful modem to search everywhere for it and finally declare an end to this fruitless search.  That put me at too late an hour to check out the community center in Shoreview to exercise.

I want to do right for My Mother, for both my parents actually, but they keep asking me to do the impossible.  It's like ripping a CD to use as a ringtone for Mother -- yeah, I said yes because I thought you could do it, but once I tried doing it it's easier said than done.  I don't know, OK?  And Father, I thought you were the one who knew how to hook up a VCR to a TV in order to record a show.  Is a converter box going to fuck everything up?  Don't ask me, I don't know.  You're the electronics genius, I'm not.  You fucking told me I'm not, asshole, many fucking times.

And to top it all off My Fucking Father told me to clean the furniture and gave me an ultimatum on either keeping or dumping all my papers.  Don't fucking come down on me luck that, goddamn you!!!

Bad Driver: 901 NWR (WI)

You, asshole with the yellow muscle car with the two huge black stripes going from hood to trunk: You have a nice-looking car.  But you act like you do, veering across two, two! lanes of traffic to get right in front of me noon time on 35WS without turning on your lights.  Fuck you.  Hope I got you.

What The Fuck Was I Thinking?

Like I planned I decided to give myself a trip to the strip club after two weeks away.  There, one of my favorites, a woman whom I showed my manhood to, just happened to be there.  She was flirty and fun and having a good time.  After the one dance I got from her she invited me over to talk at the bar, then immediately talk outside because she wanted to smoke.

After hanging out for five minutes or so she invited me back inside.  But I had other plans, I was already there for a half hour and, maybe most importantly, I had nothing else I think I could say to her.  We had gone on swimmingly; pushing the conversation even further would have risked humiliation.  So as long as I was outside, I decided to ask her if I could leave.  She seemed fine with it.

What were my other plans?  Go to the Italian restaurant, another place I haven't been to in a while, just because, or because I wanted to see SportsCenter highlights of the Timberwolves win tonight, which I attended and which ended their 16-game losing streak -- if they would've lost this, it would've been a franchise-longest.  Yep, this is what I passed up talking to a stripper for.

Why the hell did I do that?  It could've ended in disaster.  But maybe we could've talked about something deeper, something that could've formed an unbreakable bond between us.  Maybe we could've talked about me exposing myself to her, and she saying that not only did she not mind, but she actually liked it.  Maybe we could've arranged some takeout.  I don't know, all I know is the chance for me to engage with her more is gone, and with it all the possibilities.

Instead I didn't even get to see any SportsCenter highlights of the Wolves game and I ate a salad and soup that, turns out, I wasn't even hungry for.  I like the place, but I have to stop going if I'm not hungry.  Now I'm way too full, and I still haven't finished the Coke I took to go.

To take this full circle ... what the fuck was I thinking?