Wishing You A Memorable, Remarkable, And Infinite Summer

A double-whammy of days of the year that I think are special only to me. Friday around the end of the 9-to-5 workweek means the Start Of Summer. Remember how you felt at the last bell of the last day of school? That's what Friday meant to me. Freedom. A carefree life. No obligations. Of course, since I don't have a job I felt that way all year, but no matter. There's something special about summer. It's a time where you can pause and reflect and just live. No worries in the world, at least theoretically.

The end of this day is the start of something that makes Summer a little more official: When the Memorial Weekend holiday is over tonight, it's June 1. June, not May. May is a pretty hot month, but you have school then. June's a summer month, so once we wake up tomorrow -- OK, you guys wake up, I'll still be up -- it'll truly, truly feel like summer, moreso than it does during this holiday.

At one moment when I was walking around the Megamall Friday, pondering the start of yet another summer, I was struck with an epiphany: I was bored, and scared. Bored because there were a lot of other things I could do with myself at this point, and walking around the Mall Of America lost some, thought not all, of its joy. And scared because, again, even though I'm unemployed, it feels like I've been unmoored by society. No one's watching me because everybody's taken off for the summer.

It's a relaxed beat, but there's an invitation for disaster. Don't know how, I don't even know if I'm right. But there's a certain danger, if not mystery, to this summer. It's usually there anyway, but maybe this one more than ever. Just a feeling.

Anwyay, I hope you guys make the most of the summer. Things aren't so uptight, so if you're not careful things can go very, very wrong. But if you play your cards right, this most enchanting of seasons, the time where you're not in school, could be an indelible one.

For me, I'm totally going against my own advice. I've been in my own summer for too long now, so I think it's time I find a job, and maybe even go back to school. I have an in in regards to the employment front; more details later. I've been unplugged for so long; maybe the summer's the best time to get back into things. Hey, once I'm out of the office or the classroom, it'll still be summer. A nice way to ease back into the grind.

Worst $8.50 I Ever Spent

After working the Twins game, I didn't want to fight the traffic. So, even though I was fearful of what I could witness, I decided to stay downtown and watch the Lynx game, which is in Target Center, a stone's throw away from Target Field, connected to each other by Target Plaza.

Huge mistake. First, I was denied entrance by the security guard because I still had my backpack with me. That would've been fine except that I can't park as close as I have to the basketball arena anymore because they've extended the hours of enforcement on my favorite meters to daily instead of Mon.-Fri. The closest meters are now a full mile away, across a bridge. So it took me 15 minutes instead of 10 to ditch my backpack in the trunk of my car. What the hell, I took in a quick wine tasting on my way back.

I should've tasted more than one wine because the Lynx just shit themselves. I got back a half hour after I bought a scalped ticket, and when I got within viewing area of the game, there was less than two minutes left in the first quarter and the Jynx were down by five.

They got as close as four, but were down by as many as 21 before losing by 15.

These guys can't shoot, can't pass, can't rebound, can't defend, can't box out, can't hold on to the ball, can't steal, can't even shoot free throws right. Shit, they can barely take timeouts with any comprehension. This is such a fucking shitty team.

I had a thought at halftime about just fucking leaving and going to a strip club. I got in late, why not leave early? But Lindsay Whalen made her only three that game, so with an 11-point deficit going into the half, I decide I'm going to keep the faith and stay. Who knows, maybe I'll witness the turning point to this franchise's season!

I didn't. I even fuckin' ate a hot dog at halftime.

I should've just braved traffic. That way I could've gotten home and saw what turned out to be a pretty fucking entertaining Stanley Cup Final Game 1. Six to five Chicago? I justified going to the Lynx game by thinking it'd be a blowout one way or the other. I was wrong there, too.

What a fuckin' waste. The only thing I can do to make up for this is fuckin' blogging about it.

Grandmother Went To See The Optometrist Wednesday. Meanwhile, Bill Murray Is An Asshole

Was listening to KFAN today. Kevin Gorg, who works as a handicapper for Canterbury Park, relayed a story about the time he got fired from the local minor league baseball team, the St. Paul Saints.

He was doing his job as an analyst, ripping into a player for dropping consecutive fly balls or something. Later, Bill Murray, the actor, baseball fan and longtime co-owner of the Saints, bangs on the press box and rips Gorg a new one. Gorg said he at first thought Murray was just joking -- until Murray uttered something along the lines of "fuck." Finally, Murray not only fired Gorg on the spot but had him escorted out of the ballpark. Some boss.

I've heard various anecdotes about Bill Murray to conclude he's an asshole, or at least has a sadistic streak. There's the divorce from his wife, who accused him of beating her, cheating on her, and abandoning their family. And then I heard about Murray going after Lucy Liu because he thought she wasn't a good actor while they were shooting Charlie's Angels. This guy is bad news.

Too bad everybody still thinks he's the guy from Saturday Night Live and Caddyshack. Bill Murray is strange and mean, and more people need to see through him. Unfortunately, his fans will give him a pass because he makes them laugh.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: 0). Quite an impressive run for the Maroon and Gold nine on the top of the WMNSS. They clinched the Big Ten regular season title and the top spot in the conference tournament in Saturday's rain-suspended first game of a doubleheader over Ohio St. (They lost the second half of the doubleheader; otherwise, I considered putting them back up at 0.) And last night, they began the tourney by holding off Indiana (a team I saw lock down the Gophers in the regular season) 10-8 in their first game. I still think they need to win this to feel safe about getting in to the NCAA Tournament, but I will say this: Scott Matyas, despite being shaky against the Hoosiers, can throw.

They continue in the tourney by playing Michigan Friday night (tonight). Barring delays, there will be a victor by Saturday night.

#-2: Twins (Last Week: -3). A 3-3 week, haunted by the Yankees coming in and scaring the shit out of the Twinkies again. The 8-2 getaway win was only the Yanks giving the Twins a win for being so hospitable after winning a pair of 1-run games. The Minnesota Nine at least won't get swept in the season series, but they finish the regular season going 2-4 against them.

By the way, Tuesday's suspended rainout is the reason we needed a retractable roof. Weather is allowing the team to cheat fans out of seeing the resolution of a game they paid to see. Anyway, this week they host Texas for Memorial Weekend, then they visit Seattle for their first four-game series in a long time.

#-3: Lynx (Last Week: -2). My God, is this team that bad??? I thought the Tulsa Shock was supposed to be the worst team in the WNBA because of turnover, yet they came into Target Center and thoroughly manhandled the Jynx by 12. They then go to Connecticut and play Lindsey Whalen's team, the Sun. Supposedly they were retooling their squad, yet they got their asses blown off by 26. What the fuck is going on here? I just hope that Cheryl Reeve is in the middle of torching the entire gameplan and starting over early so she can get the kinks out of the way now and opposed to the end of the regular season. Will they win either or both of their home games this week against Chicago and Phoenix?

The Lynx may be losing games and losing money, but I don't think they lost so much money so fast as did ...

#-4: Gopher men's basketball (Re-Entry!). On Wednesday, a jury in Hennepin County gave prospective Gopher assistant coach Jimmy Williams a victory in his lawsuit against Head Coach Tubby Smith and the program and awarded him $1.25 million. The jury said that Smith misled Williams by saying he would get a job with the Gophers, a position he has had two times before, and that Williams was so sure he had the job he quit his same position with Oklahoma St. Apparently Athletic Director Joel Maturi caught wind of the hire too late and ordered Smith to withdraw the offer. And now it's too late because the jury believed Minnesota officially offered Williams a job. He doesn't, but now they'll have to pay him like he does have one. Of course the Gophs will appeal.

On the court, PG Justin Cobbs is leaving for Cal. That means that three of the four recruits of the 2008-9 season are gone; Royce White and Trevor Mbakwe are about to take off, leaving only F Rodney Williams. In summary: Tubby Smith is not keeping his shit together either on or off the court. The clock is ticking on him and, once again, the men's college basketball program.

Accomplished Little Today

Did you ever have a to-do list, then try to vigilantly work through that list, and for a bunch of reasons you weren't able to do any of them, so the day was a complete waste?

I was on the phone talking to XM Radio because of a signal/activation problem. After 11+ minutes, the man on the other end of the line asked me to call back some other time because, if I deciphered his accent correctly, he said they're having trouble sending signals. Fuck.

This is after I tried to paint the two new planks of wood Father used to reattach the side door. I knew I had a problem because the paintbrushes I used to put a new coat on the doors hardened, and I don't know how to clean them. After dunking them in water and trying to power-spray off the paint, I tried using them. None of the bristles moved because they're stuck together because of the paint. I didn't paint so much as weakly apply drips to the bare wood. I would've done as good of a job if I used my dead Walkman for a brush. Seriously, you should look at it; it's like what I did to the walls with my crayons when I was a kid. It's shit.

Hopefully My Fucking Father doesn't look at it and get mad. I need to buy brushes, OK? Get off my fuckin' back. I'll try and do it tomorrow, but if you're gonna bitch, why don't you do it? (I'm bracing myself. I'm as scared and abused a kid as Jesse James.)

Day started with heavy stepping outside. Either I woke up early or Father's outside.

I decided to bluff and go out. Dammit, it is My Fucking Father ... and I'll be goddamn if he doesn't harp on me again for sleeping in. My excuse -- "I've been up since 10!" (It was 10:45.) Fuckin' asshole took the last word -- "Get up at 9."

But apparently he needed my help, and this time it wasn't frivolous: One of the sidedoors leading into the backyard was ripped off its hinges. As My Father went to the hardware store, all I could do was inspect the damage and go around to the back to make sure nothing was stolen or vandalized. As far as I can tell, nothing was (especially the shed, the only place where anything of value would be). My parents suspected someone wanted to fuck with us. But I've seen the nails that was supposed to hold the door against the hinges, and they were getting kind of loose. With the wind we had last night, I could believe that it just pulled off.

Father behaved himself after he came back. In fact, we made a little father-son project out of putting the door back together. Unfortunately, all the plans I made today -- donating the extra bread I bought, along with my brother's books and my clothes; going to this place that might have Father's business documents; going to a different Sam's Club to see if they can change my sunglasses' lenses -- was completely derailed. This is the first time in a goddamn month I actually make a to-do list in my Franklin Quest and I can't do a fucking thing because My Father's home because a door broke? Today, on this damn day?! Whatever.

******e And ****(*/*)*e!

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My Thoughts On The Lost Finale

It was 11 o'clock on the dot when they began the local sports. The "Aloha To Lost" Jimmy Kimmel Live special was to begin at 11:05. Probably wasn't going to be a better time to pop the sandwich in the toaster oven, then go downstairs and slice me a piece of cake to stash in the fridge.

I thought I could do it all in five minutes, and even if I couldn't, I probably have a couple minutes because JKL never starts on time. Apparently they did, however, because when I came back Kimmel was in the middle of interviewing Matthew Fox. Time on my converter: 11:07. I was late by two minutes and therefore have to check out what they said the first two minutes of the show? Damn.

Other thoughts:

• The series finale is the first episode I've seen from start to finish. Knowing a lot of the story, as understandable as it could be, I think it was emotionally satisfying. At first I didn't get it, but once I saw that people thought the flash-sideways was in fact limbo, a sort of waystation before getting to heaven, it now made sense how people will running into each other.
• People that didn't understand or like the ending either still believe the finale showed they all died in the plane crash or thought the ending scene at the church was superfluous. I've come to remember something I learned in film school: There's a difference between resolving the plot and resolving the characters. Those who've become fascinated by Lost got sucked in by the premise but fell deeply in love with the characters. When you try and extricate yourself from a series, you've got to tell the end of the story and the end of the themes of the story. So while it didn't tie up every loose end, it went to the heart of the matter -- namely, the important thing was not getting out of the island, but realizing that the people you meet on the island are the ones that matter the most.
• I had a feeling the three alternate endings were funny bits. How could you film alternate endings in a show as deeply thought out and precisely detailed as this one? They were pretty funny -- they parodied Survivor, The Sopranos and, best of all, Newhart, getting Bob Newhart himself to reprise the waking-up-out-of-bed final scene. However, they were promoting these endings sincerely, like they actually happened. That they turned out to be fakes for the special is a bit disingenuous, because people who actually looked forward to seeing them may have been misled.
• ABC turned this into an event. How? I understand the cult fervor behind it. But this is not a ratings dynamo. It has been safely ensconced in the Top 20 every year except the fifth season last year. However, they have garnered, at most, 16 million people per episode. A phenomenon these days, to me, is 20 million. Such a following doesn't get special attention from Time and Entertainment Weekly. And no one was creating such a big deal out of this until the beginning of this final season, so it seemed like a manufactured milestone, not a real one from the grassroots. But that's just me.
• There was an online-only Q&A after the Kimmel special. What a fucking waste of time. They opened it up to members of the audience, and all they did was ask stupid shit like, "Will you guys come back to Hawai'i?" and "If you guys were on a reality show, who'd be voted off first and why?" Only one guy asked about the plot, and even then he did so after Kimmel said the questions being asked so far was "bullshit." The actors who were there might not know the entire plot, but the audience had to come up with something better than, "Did you guys take anything from the island?" Stupid, stupid people.

When I Get Hot, I Get Hot

First humid day of the year. Had to mow the lawn because it was getting way too long. So I sweat. A lot. Like perspiration on my eyeglasses. I do not function well in the heat. The sun gets oppressive, so I get confused, and I get quite short. Also, I don't want to be bothered when I'm working, doubly so when it's hot.

That's why I snapped at Father, even though I should't've because he wanted to show me something. Dude, I had my iPod on; I was in my own world, dude. And I saw the hesitation in his eyes when he asked me something when I went upstairs to get the broom to sweep the debris I mowed onto the neighbors next door. I gave him the narrow-eyed, "What the hell do you want now?" look, although I didn't snap at him so much as respond to him in the same annoying way he usually responds to me. He could've snapped at me, but for some reason he didn't, and we talked about some shit about ceiling light rebates.

And he just came up a third time because he wanted me to find where his corporation binder was. Good thing I just woke up, unlike yesterday, when he ruined my afternoon nap. And then he came up a fourth time because he wanted me to get the name of some Asian art professor he saw on public television. Sure, I'll put this in back of the to-do list, and I'll get around to it as soon as I get around to the umpteen other fucking goddamn things you're asking me to do.

Today In Right Wing Nut Teabaggery

I recently discovered The Huffington Post, and I love it. Has a wider scope and a better sense of humor than Daily Kos, although it'll always be my first love.

They talk about a lot of other things, including Hollywood stuff. But I am starting to really like the columns and opinion pieces posted by the site's contributors, all of them, of course, liberal.

The essay I'm loving right now is this one, by Bob Cesca. There's no need for me to explain why I love it; just read it. It cuts to the essence of this teabaggery and, more importantly, the inherent insanity of libertarianism.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). This squad is turning it on at the right time. A sweep of Penn St. last week, plus a 16-2 plowing of Ohio St. to begin an early-shifted season-ending series in Columbus, has propelled the Gophers to the top spot in the Big Ten by a game over Michigan. In fact, with one more win the team claims at least a share of the conference regular season title and the top spot in next week's tournament, also held in Columbus.

It gets even better. Kyle Knudson and T.J. Oakes swept last week's conference honors. Knudson was named Player Of The Week for going 8-for-13 with a pair of home runs against the Nittany Lions. Oakes was bestowed Pitcher Of The Week for retiring the first 16 Penn St. batters and going eight innings in the victory Saturday. Finally, those cheapasses the Pohlads have given $2 million for renovating Siebert Field, thereby putting them 46.7% on their way towards their goal of $7.5 million for the razing. Don't know how they're going to improve Siebert unless they get more space; that's the problem with the facility, not necessarily that it's old. But whatever they want to do to make it better, they have more money now that the Pohlads have given the Gophs two mill. Good for them!

For all these disparate reasons that will not be coming together again anytime soon, this perfect week will be rewarded with a #0. Congrats, Gopher Nine! They close out the regular season with the final two against the Buckeyes, then prepare for the Big Ten Tournament, which they certainly have qualified for.

#-2: Lynx (Re-Entry!). They began their season with a win at Tulsa -- should be impressive, except that they lost their next two games.

I was at the home opener Sunday evening. They started out like gangbusters, finishing the first quarter leading the Washington Mystics by 10. But they slowly bled that away on bad shooting, no rebounding, absent defense and turning the ball over. They led by five at the half, then the Mystics turned on the afterburners in the second half. I think they were up by as much as 21 before the 87-76 final.

Wednesday's loss at Seattle may have been even more dispiriting. Once again they get out to a fast lead, leading the Storm by, once again, 5 at the half. And they didn't wilt in the third quarter, matching the Storm's 15 points in that frame. They turned it on in the fourth quarter, outscoring the Jinx 24-16.

Used to be this team would start fast in the season, only to peter out and get eliminated from the playoffs late. Now, they seem to be accelerating that pace and cramming that disappointment in games from more convenient consumption. This week: hosting the Bastard Detroit Shock Sunday, then at Connecticut Thursday.

#-3: Twins (Last Week: -2). Have the Twinks come crashing back down to earth? A three-game losing streak at the end of the cutoff week means they finish their east coast swing at 2-5, punctuated by their two-game sweep at Boston, the first time they've been swept all year. They are now tied with Detroit for the lead in the A.L. Central. The only thing I think this proves is that the Twinkies still think themselves inferior to the A.L. East.

At least they'll be home this week. They begin interleague play hosting the Bastard Seattle Pilots in the 94 Series, then finish their regular season meetings with the Yankees during the workweek.

#-4: Timberwolves (Re-Entry!). Slipping down from second, where they would've drafted because of the second-worst record in the league, to fourth in a two-man draft? Because this is, like, the umpteenth time they have slipped from their projected slot in the NBA Draft Lottery, they have to have a spot in the bottom of the WMNSS this week. Truly, God hates the Timberwolves.

The Hottest Thing I've Seen In A Long Time ... And It Was On My Street!!!

The girls living next door are hot. I have to say that. And they dress hot too. I don't know who's who or any of the babes I see from time to time are their friends. But all I know is there is talent living close to me for the first time ever.

But I was not prepared for what I saw yesterday. I was driving down my street when I see these two figures walking my way. It looks like they're baring their stomachs. I hoped it wasn't something similar to me walking to my car from "work" when I saw some guys sunbathing at a frat house. There were several guys in chairs and a few chicks laying on towels on the front lawn. Hot ... until I noticed one of them actually was a guy. Whoops.

I got sidetracked. Anyway, I didn't want to raise suspicions, but I needed to know if I was getting to ogle the right gender. Driving closer, but not too fast so as not to make myself noticeable, it truly was two girls. And I recognize one of them -- it's one of the girls who live next door!

And you have to see what they were wearing and how they were wearing it. Her friend, who was closer to the middle of the street and to me, tried to beat the heat of yesterday by pulling up her t-shirt to show off her hot, thin belly!! Even better, the neighbor girl walking next to her looked like she was wearing just a bra!!! I ain't fuckin' kidding!!! I'm not complaining or anything -- although it does look kind of weird -- I just fuckin' love a chick who don't give a shit and is walking around that scantily clad!!! I think she's down!!!

Makes me wanna pull a Tiger. But she's underage, so I'll just touch myself in the bathroom now.

Grandmother Went To The Doctor Yesterday; Meanwhile ...

Had to mark that down in case I need to know down the line.

Should put this down too; couple/few weeks ago I had this huge nightmare. For some reason my parents were on the couch and I was in the room with them, somehow. All of a sudden, I jump up on the couch, right between My Father, and start slapping him on the head while he was trying to put his arms over it in order to protect himself. And that was it.

I've had thoughts about physically defending myself against -- OK, physically attacking -- My Father whenever he gets out of line, so that may be where it comes from. I guess it'd be a good thing to prepare myself for. But like I said yesterday, Father's been quite nice to me. I'll probably be lured into a false sense of complacency, and then he'll pounce. Maybe then I'll remember this nightmare and I'll fight back.

Fighting the modem all night because it's been on the blink. Pisses me off. Fucking God, I can't wait for the new modem to come in. Hope that's the solution. But what if it's not?

Up And Down Day

Dynamic day. A rollercoaster of a day. Probably is to be expected, yet it's certainly not one I want to experience. That's what's staying inside and playing around on the Internet's for.

---

Started with going to the dentist's to get my cavities filled. Of course, since this is a teaching dental clinic, where I'm operated on by students who need to be constantly checked by their supervisors/teachers, they took so much time that I only got one of them filled. Worse yet, because the cavity was in the extreme back of my mouth, there was a lot of work in order to reach back there. The teacher was called in a couple extra times, and another student was brought in to help with keeping the site clean and dry.

This next person ... man, she rubbed me the wrong way (in a figurative sense). Didn't say hi even though she was reaching into my mouth. And when she asked me if my teeth clenched normally after the cavity was filled (they may have put in too much, so they "carve" it out), I didn't know how to answer that because my mouth's been open for over two fuckin' hours and I don't know how normal felt before the operation. Leaving I saw her on the phone, and I got this image of the lazy secretary who doesn't give a shit about being productive at work and only wants to shoot the shit with friends. I have a feeling that, as a dentist, she'll be known for not having a good bedside manner.

Better was Lindsay, the girl who actually did put in my silver filling (and not a composite/plastic one, as I thought -- too hard to keep clean during filling, I think she said). Unlike the girl who did my cleaning last time, she actually spoke to me like a grown-up. Thank you! A better contrast: She and her supervisor said, both to me and to each other, that the cavity is probably the result of the wisdom teeth that used to be behind them leaving hard-to-reach pockets after their removal. They understood that it's hard to brush back there. Lindsay even said she's not one to scold her patients, unlike the other one. Thank you!! Now I have evidence to go around thinking it really isn't my fault!!! (Even though it is because I could've gone to them a lot sooner.)

---

However, the positivity I felt I didn't express, mostly because I was getting kind of tired of being operated on for two-plus hours. Moreover, there was a line to wait to schedule the appointment for the other cavity. And then I was told I needed to wait to talk to their insurance guy. I only wore my sunglasses when I walked the mile from my (free) parking spot to the clinic 'cause my shirt didn't have any pockets and I didn't have any room in my pants, so while we waited, I kept my glasses on, Anna Wintour-style. And since I was so damn bored and tired from my fill, I slumped on the couch.

We did get in and Lindsay and this really cool guy named Brad squared me away. Great news -- my health insurance covers me 100%! Even better, I inquired about this bill I got for my previous cleaning. Brad looked me up and told me that the clinic cleared it up and I can disregard the bill! I was so happy I clapped my hands and said "Yes!"

The only thing I wished I did was take off my hat and glasses when I was in there. If I knew the news was good, I would've minded my manners and took them both off. I hope he doesn't think me an asshole. He isn't regardless of what news he gave me, but because it was good, I should've been a gentleman about it. Oh, and I should've addressed him by his name when I left. Good news does deserve at least that, and I feel bad about it.

---

Had my phone turned off the whole time I was at the dentist's. Like I dreaded, there was a voicemail when I turned it on when I finally got back to my car. But, it wasn't my parents who left a message, it was my Grandmother. She wanted me to come back home and take her grocery shopping. Man, I wanted to relax after that arduous afternoon flat on my back. I realized today that every day, I have to do something just for me or else I will be a very cranky boy. But I have to do what my Grandmother says, no?

It was a quarter past 4, about 75 minutes before the 'Rents do, and even though she usually doesn't, she made me take her to a grocery store. I should've questioned her when, as I was backing down the driveway, she muttered something about "buying the same thing we bought when we went there the last time."

I've never been to Sam's Club with Grandmother, even though I know where it is. When we got to the left turn lane to get there, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"Sam's Club."

"Not Sun Foods?"

Fuck. You.

"No. You said Sam's Club."

"The place where you need a card to get in?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, I don't have a card."

"Then why did you say you wanted to go to Sam's Club???"

"I meant Sun Foods. Oh, well, just take me home."

If it were either of my parents this would've gone on and on. As it is, even though she quietly just went back inside the house, I reflected upon another indication that Grandmother's losing it.

---

Setting aside Me Time every day is something I fight, but after I realized it I'm starting to see the futility of it. I'm going to do it, regardless of whether or not I should.

After dropping Grandmother off on her aborted attempt to shop for groceries, I had a choice: Should I just get gas, or can I go to the bookstore, too? If I do both, in what order should I do it? The tank is nearly empty ... but will gas prices go up, or even down, tomorrow? Should I wait, or at least just fill it up a quarter of the way?

The other thing is having time for coffee. It's 4:30, and with all the running around I need to do I don't know if I should just say "fuck it" and fill up my car. Besides, I went to the dentist, and maybe I should lay off on drinking anything that could stain my new filling. Moreover, there are some files from this temp agency I need to pull; looks like I have this assignment, but I have to fill out all this paperwork first, and I just don't want my parents to know about it because they'll start asking why and shit.

Also, it'd be nice to go a second day without using any money ... well, wait a second, I need to get gas for the car, where I need to use my card. And that settles it -- I'm getting coffee. I'm getting coffee because I'm using my credit card for one thing so I might as well use it for another thing. So I drive and get it, and even though I thought I could make it a quick 10-minute pit stop, I stayed till 5:30, about 40 minutes. I was engrossed in reading the latest issue of Time. It was "time" for me -- get it?

I saw the gas station that's connected to the service station I use charge for two cents less a gallon, even though the coupon I planned to use is for somewhere else, so I decided to turn around and ask if I could. Then don't honor competitiors' coupons. Whoops.

Then I go to the nearest station to our house thinking to only fill it up part of the way and gamble that it'll go down tomorrow. Except that all the pumps there are now pre-pay or credit only. To change that they just blacked out all the other buttons on the pump -- classy. Thwarted a second time, I just decided to drive home on an empty tank.

I didn't see my parents' car when I got back home. Cool! Gives me a chance to print all the files from the new temp agency without them finding out and/or asking why. So I go down and open up the files ... when I hear a rustling just outside the door. Shit. I close my e-mail.

So not only do I not get to print out the downloads, not only do I not get any gas for my car, but neither do I get to see the start of the national nightly news. And this is all on top of taking Grandmother on a quick five-minute drive during afternoon rush hour. After going to the dentist's, I accomplished nothing.

---

Father's been being quite nice to me lately, which bothers me. He's going to erupt, and I'm always on the lookout for that. So there's basically two interactions I have with Father: Getting pissed when he yells at me, and waiting for him to yell at me.

I egg things along sometimes when I'm in a bad mood ... such as when the 'Rents thwart my downloading. I open the door for them and race down to close my inbox, only to have Mother stop me and help them bring down this slow cooker(?) downstairs. When I just closed down my e-mail before she noticed, she told me I'll need to run an errand for her, even though I knew that I would have to wake up early and do that in time for me to get to my appointment downtown. So I bark at her -- "Sure!" Yes, parents don't pick their kids, either.

After Mother went through the computer room, Father did. He then bored me to death when he told me to find a Nature show he saw on the horseshoe crab Sunday night. Once he sat down and started talking to me about his childhood, I tuned out. I don't want to hear it anyway, but I really didn't want to hear it now that they've stopped me from doing what I want, again. And what he was saying was a whole bunch of who gives a shit; something about eating crabs when he was young and it having green blood and a pound of it costing $15,000 to eat or something. I didn't want to be a dick, I just was; after several minutes of looking at the computer instead of him and not responding to his soliloquy, he recommended I watch the program and left.

At least he was nice ... until after dinner. Cleaning up, he showed me the trash can. There were a lot of vegetables in it. He ordered me to not take Grandmother to buy groceries again because she buys veggies that she doesn't eat. "Too old ... smell bad!" he barked. He wasn't angry at me, but he was angry, and that's the Father I know and have grown to despise.

---

By the way, turns out I did print those forms out late last night. They didn't suspect a thing. Or at least they haven't cared to ask yet.

Poor Bastards Of The Moment: The Boston Bruins

Haven't done this feature yet this year. And even though this happened on Friday, this is epic enough for me to get around to doing this now.

This year's Boston Bruins become the third hockey team, and the fourth pro club in the history of North American sport, to have a 3-games-to-none lead in their best-of-seven-game series and lose it. Worse than that, in Friday's Game 7, they actually held a 3-0 lead in the first period of the game ... only to piss it all away. Worst of all, the game-winning goal happened on a Philadelphia Flyers power play after the Bruins were called for having too many men on the ice. A penalty for such a basic thing as a shift change results in a complete flameout to their season. Probably the worst ending to a season in that franchise's season.

Poor bastards.

Missing The Preakness For A Suit?

After driving around for errands and marking time, I go home absolutely exhausted. I want to pass out on my bed before dinner, probably while watching the Preakness Stakes.

But do I get to go home to happy parents, or at least quiet ones? No. They weren't yelling at me, but they were annoying me nonetheless. Why? Because they went to Kohl's and Father just bought a suit for dirt cheap. You wanna see the suit? (Do I have a choice? It's either this or I get thrown out of the hosue.)

Now, you want a suit, don't you? Yeah, you want a suit! (Again, I don't have a choice.) It's a nice suit, but I don't have a compelling reason to buy one beyond the purported fact that it's on sale. But, to make them happy -- well, actually, not to piss them off -- I say yes. OK, let's go! (What, you mean now? I'm tired!) Well, OK, but that means I'm gonna exercise! (OK, Mother.)

I should've thought through the ramifications, but I wanted to get to bed so bad because my brain had already shut down. I was maybe hoping, probably thinking that I would wake up at 5 because that's when I set my phone alarm to, then I'll watch the Preakness. Didn't really matter if we went to Kohl's before or after dinner, I'll be able to watch what I want to watch and get what I consider to be a family errand done.

But after successfully passing out, I heard a knock on the door. I open the door: "What?" And it's My Father, reading something at the dinner table, telling me to get ready. Again, I should've realized that by not going now I ran into the possibility of being made to go during the Preakness. So I look at the cell; it's a quarter to 5. Post time for the race is 5:18. There's no way we'll get back in time. And so I'm already pissed.

One of the things that most pains me about being these people's child is they don't give a shit when I want to delay doing something because of something on TV. It's the fucking Preakness, for crissake, why can't go after it's over? My parents are incredibly unsentimental, especially when it comes to me.

So I'm frustrated about what I'm about to do. Add that I'm still waking from a deep nap, and I'm running on red. It's the kind of attitude I feel I need when I think My Fucking Father is coming down on me and I need to fight back. I angrily get dressed when I hear another thing that sets me off: I'm driving. Wait a second ... this is your idea, and you're making me drive? Call me an asshole, but I don't think I have to. When I get outside Mother tells me they have no room in their minivan. Whatever -- I have shit in my car and the antenna makes this whirring sound because it can't retract, and my parents are going to find out and they'll start yelling at me. That's why I hate being with them in such a confined space for so long: Nothing comes from it. As she's trying to explain and/or apologize, I clean up the backseat, like a brat. My years of living with them girded me to the potential of a fight; credit to them, possibly, for holding their tongues.

And maybe this is a sign of my maturity and/or world-weariness, but I kind of calmed down as soon as we got to Kohl's. Despite the henpecking and oddly busy traffic, once I got into the store, I had to face the fact that there was very little I could do. And if there is something I could do, I'll need to be calm, not only because I might need to excuse myself but also it helps to think when you're not panicking.

I didn't get the suit color I wanted; the only color of the brand Father recommended came in black, and hopefully the striped one I got complements the unstriped one I already have. I did my best to be helpful and not a dick. That might have helped me get the process of selecting a suit go a lot faster. If I were younger, I would have been an asshole about it.

After I picked the suit out, a thought came to me. Why don't I excuse myself, like I need to go to the bathroom, and I'll sneak out to the car to listen to the race on the radio? I looked at my watch: 5:24. They never fire off the race at post time, so I have a chance. I tell Father I have to use the bathroom, and I bolt out the door!

Neither parent sees me, thank Buddha. I get in through the passenger's side and turn on the radio. I don't hear the game in any of the three available sports-talk radio stations in the area, just the chatter of the heads. However, one of them said that, just then, Lookin At Lucky won the Preakness. Guess my ploy of hearing the race on the radio didn't work because I couldn't hear it on the radio ... which means I should be upset at my parents for pulling me out to Kohl's around the time of the race.

Whatever. Thank Buddha for the Internet, for I was able to watch the Preakness late last night, in its entirety. I kind of was assuming in the back of my head that, if worst comes to worst, I'd be able to see it on replay. It doesn't beat seeing it in real time, plus it was a pretty good race. But at least I didn't miss it. And I hope I've grown up enough to remember that.

Another Death Of A Mouse, But This Time I Don't Give A Shit

Had to wake up early this morning for a meeting at home. So long as I'm up, I might as well run some errands. And this time I had time for to take Grandmother to the grocery store.

What do I see when I open the garage door and go to open my car door? A rat, trapped in the glue that My Father set on the driver's side floor. Like the mouse I saw in the kitchen, it was struggling; it was trying to move itself forward, even though it may not be because it wanted to break free so much as it was scared of my presence. Unlike the previous mouse, however, this guy was much smaller. He was/is a baby.

I'm imaging him now ... just a guy, exploring his world, maybe getting a bite to eat, nothing to do on an early Saturday morning but certainly not wanting to hurt anyone. He takes a few steps in the wrong direction ... and he's stuck. And he's trying to move, but he can't. And he doesn't know why. And he's scared. He wants to leave, he'll even try breaking his own legs, but to no avail.

I may be innoculated to all this after going through the trauma of seeing the death of the first mouse. I had to go get groceries with Grandmother. And this proves that we have a rat problem; there's another dead mouse in another glue trap on the other side of the garage. Guess we'll have to deal with that some time soon. For all of those reasons, I shuddered a little bit, then went the long way around my car to open the front door. When I came back I parked it outside because I have more things to do.

And all the while, in the dank and dark garage, there's this baby mouse stuck in glue, possibly jerking itself forward in vain, probably coming to the realization that there is no hope, and that he will die in the most painful way possible: paralyzed, slowly, starving.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -2). Both baseball squads won one more game this week than they lost, but I'll go with the college nine for two reasons. The one that bolsters the Gophs is that they had a better week by winning percentage (2-1, .666). Plus, that lone loss was a 2-1 Getaway Day squeaker against Michigan.

Check out the conference standings. Could this be true -- only two games separate every single team in the Big Ten? That means this weekend's three-game set with Penn St. is critical because Minnesota is one of four teams tied for first in the conference at 10-8, and the Nittany Lions are one of four teams tied for last in the conference at 8-10. This is the last home series for the Gophers, so they'll have to make them count.

By the way, congratulations to closer Scott Matyas for being named Big Ten Pitcher Of The Week.

#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1). The other reason I order them this way, the one that's related to the Twinkies, is that, for the first time all season, they have not won a series. In fact, they have split their last two -- horrors! OK, the Baltimore series was four games, so maybe the possibility of a split means this shouldn't count. (And in the interest of telling the whole truth, the first game of that series, a loss, happened before this week's WMNSS cutoff.) Plus, the series against the White Sox was a 1-1 split, so the only way the Twins could've won that series was to sweep, even though they could've won both if they were as hot as they were to begin the year. Whatever.

This is the first big week, the first great test to see how good they can truly be. They face teams from the forever-powerful A.L. East, all on the road, without a single off day. They begin with a weekend trio at the Yankees, the Twinks' bane o' their existence and the emblem of all that is bad and unholy with the business of baseball. Then they have a pair of weirdo two-fers, first at Toronto, then at Boston.

EBay Fail

I don't like competing. I like fighting if I get to the point where I don't care if I win or lose; I just wanna fuckin' hurt somebody to make my point then, no matter how badly I get beat. But constantly having to risk your manhood in order to win something? If I'm investing in something I want but have to work to get it, I'm hardly invested.

I want to get a good deal on a new satellite radio receiver because I'm convinced the old one's busted. Instead of going to XM or even Google Shopping, I thought, Why not head over to eBay and get it for even cheaper?

So I did. Already I find it heady and a little frustrating. I'm trying to look just for cheap receivers and I continually have to look past accessories. I also can't find information I need, specifically if I can or cannot use the car kit I have for other receivers.

Regardless, I had my heart set on a very old, cheap, but unused receiver. With a new car kit and everything, my first bid was, like twelve bucks. The next two days I was outbid, but I put in a new bid to claim the top spot.

I learned from a girl I worked with once that when an auction's about to close, there's a huge rush amongst all the buyers to get the last bid in. When you think you have the item you want but learn you were outbid at the end, it's called "sniping." I didn't want to be sniped.

The auction for the receiver ended at 7:30 Tuesday. I almost forgot because I ate dinner for a long time and then watched Dancing With The Stars. But I got to eBay to see the auction closing within two minutes.

I've seen a couple auctions' last minutes, so I wasn't completely surprised that I had to put in some numbers and confirm my new bid again and again. But I didn't know eBay coded a new feature whereby a window popped up giving you a "1-Click Bid." That saves you from punching numbers in. However, with time running short -- and with my laptop running slow (damn you, laptop or modem or both!) I just fuckin' decided I was going to go above the next-highest incremental bid and just blow my opponent out of the water with a bid. I wanted that receiver.

So instead of clicking "1-Click Bid" I drag the cursor on the "Amount Bid" field. I had to erase the current high bid that was on that field, so I held down the left button on my mouse and dragged it left to blue up the field. But does it ever happen to you where you do that and once you lift your finger from the button the colored field goes from the cursor to the direction you want to color to the exact opposite fucking side?!?! That's what happened here. Some fucking how, some fucking way, the field to the right of the cursor turned blue. Since the cursor was on the cents place on the field, when I typed in my killer bid, it turned out, like, "29.003050" something. I thought for a second I was putting in a bid for $300, so I stopped, and when I saw what the fuck happened, I quit. The counter went down to 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... and that was it. I lost.

Fucking eBay. Fucking cursor. Fucking mouse. Fucking weird touch sense totally fucking betraying what I wanted. Fucking laptop. Fucking modem. And goddamn, how do I hate competing.

Missed The Beginning Of The Movie

I hate missing the beginning of movies. I am usually late to everything else, but movies are different because I want to go see it, which means seeing all of it, which means getting there early enough to watch the film from the beginning. It's weird, but I'm usually good when it comes to getting to movies on time.

But I didn't today getting to Iron Man 2. I thought I had time. I built in some time to get to gas for my car, which I really, really wanted to do before I drove to the movie theater. Big mistake -- funny that if I were more irresponsible I would've gotten to the movie on time. But because of that, and traffic, and parking on the other side of the mall because I wanted to park under a ramp so my car wouldn't get pelted by rain all afternoon, and going to the bathroom, and getting popcorn and pop, and asking if I could use both coupons to get both items for free, I go up to the stairs and see Mickey Rourke's huge face. Initially I thought it was the middle of the movie and I was at the wrong screen. But I was late.

I looked at my watch when I finally sat down -- 2:02. Movie listing was 1:50. Twelve minutes is really late, but come on, previews usually take up, what, 10 minutes of a main feature's listing time? I should't've been late, but I swear that this movie went off a lot earlier than what conventionally would happen.

As for the movie ... uh, incomplete. OK, OK, it was good, although a bit of a trifle. Not a lot of action scenes, the throwaway dialogue of the first movie was absent in this one, and, most importantly, there was no engaging, deep backstory that, to my surprise, I remember in many summer movies in recent years, such as The Dark Knight, Spider-Man, and even Iron Man 1. But my overriding feeling, this ache I felt throughout the movie? I missed the beginning. I probably got the gist of the movie, but I'm not sure because I missed the beginning of the first scene. Bugs the hell out of me, and it still does.

See A Pattern Here?

I have been posting blogs in the morning a lot more often recently. That's because I've been passing out earlier, thus waking up at more normal hours.

That scares the hell out of me. I don't like normal.

Happy Fuckin' Mother's Day

Maybe I should've been nicer to My Mother. But I just wasn't going to let go of what she said and how she said it, again.

I mean, this: It's Mother's Day, of course, and I went downstairs to wish Mother so. But she was busy taking an order on her cell, so I thought I'd wait till maybe dinner or some other time. I'm at their computer checking up on how to chill champagne when she comes in asking me about her cell: "I don't get any reception. What's wrong with the phone?"

There were no bars on it, and it said "Emergency Only." This is something I sometimes got with my old phone when I tried to call on it from downstairs. Not only was she downstairs when she was using the phone, she was in a part of the downstairs completely walled off and was behind the central air.

I ask her a seemingly innocuous question designed to elicit information that would help me diagnose the problem. The snag -- My Fucking Mother didn't want to hear it.

My question: "Does this happen just when you're downstairs?"

Her reply: "It doesn't matter whether or not it's downstairs!"

Back and forth we went. It was Mother's Day, so maybe I should've just acquiesced and gave her an answer. But I couldn't answer unless she answered my question. So I decided to beg: "Please answer my question." But she kept giving me variations of "it doesn't matter!" We probably weren't listening to each other, but that's how My Fucking Mother is, and I guess that's how I am.

She needed my help opening that cellphone's back cover because she switched to a different old phone of hers.

---

Mother also praised me for the champagne I poured for dinner, even though it is the same ol' reliable sparkling wine we always get.

But when Father asked me if I wanted another piece of a great-tasting steak we were eating, Mother jumped in: "You bitch about him getting too fat and now you ask if he wants another steak?!" Oh, whatev, Mother.

My Ernie Harwell Story

I was a producer for a season-long sports show for a minor league baseball team about a decade ago. My job was to call sports figures and ask them for an on-air interview.

Many of the guys my producer/boss wanted me to call I never heard of, but I heard of Ernie Harwell, the longtime announcer for the Detroit Tigers. We got him, and he was, well, perfect. Mr. Harwell was funny, gracious, and generous. What struck me most about him while listening to the interview through the sound board was his inner joy and serenity. Hearing Mr. Harwell he sounded like he was the happiest man in the world and he knew it. And I wanted to be like him.

After the interview, I had to pick up the phone to say goodbye to him. All I could say after hearing his voice and his stories was, "God bless you, Mr. Harwell." And he let out a little guffaw. I don't know why I said that. I'm Buddhist. But it felt right at the time. And looking back on it, I'm a little embarrassed, but not really.

I have not heard one bad word said about Mr. Harwell, not one. Those people were saints on Earth.

RIP, Mr. Harwell.

The New Cat-And-Mouse Game I Have To Play With My Father

Relations between My Father and I have been good. But I don't know if he'd feel that way if he saw me foil his plans Thursday morning.

Thank God I had a meeting where I drank three beers for the time ever. Because I had to immediately pass out as soon as I got home around midnight. Which meant I woke up to the sound of my parents leaving. I waited about 15 minutes in case they forgot something, so I bolted out to brush my teeth at around 7:30.

When I looked outside I saw there was a bag lying next to the blue recycling bin I set out late the night before. When I looked in, I saw my papers. All the papers that I haven't gone through. My Fucking Father took one of the bags and put it out to recycle thinking that I wouldn't notice. But I did, fucker. So I took that bag and brought it back inside. Ha-ha, asshole.

The downside is he now has no qualms about playing dirty. Which means that I now have to wake up early every Thursday morning and take back the stuff My Fucking Father wants to throw out. Which is insane.

Which means the path of lesser resistance is actually going through my things and start throwing them away myself. I thought about giving up and just putting my stuff in a public storage space, but then I saw this, and even though they're just papers, I'm not going to pay to have my shit stolen.

So now I'm back to Square One. Meaning I have to alter my sleep schedule so My Fucking Father won't take my stuff from me. Goddammit...

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2). A 5-2 week, capped off with, finally!, their first season sweep. Even better that it was of the second-place Detroit Tigers. In a somewhat dispiriting sign, however, their two losses were of the close variety. Their defeat on Saturday to Cleveland, 5-4, and that to Baltimore last (Thursday) night to Baltimore, 2-0, were filled with missed chances. That loss to the Orioles is even more troubling because it's the first series in which the Twinkies lost its first game since the first game of the season, to the Los Angeles Angels Of Anaheim Angels Of Los Angeles Angels Of Anaheim Angels Of. ... They're now behind the eight-ball and at risk of dropping the first series of the season, and to a really awful team that hasn't even won double-digit games yet.

On the bright side, the lineup, last (Thursday) night aside, looks formidable. And the rotation looks like they're rounding into shape. In particular, Francisco Liriano appears to not only be fully healed from Tommy John surgery, he is exceeding the flashes of brilliance he showed before the surgery, and I can see him being the super-ace Twins fans want him to be. They finish their series with the Orioles this weekend, then stay at home to do the Annual Early-May Weirdo Two-Game Series (this one against the White Sox), they go to the Bronx to play the Fucking Yankees on Friday.

#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). A 3-2 week, but it wasn't bad. They split a weather-necessitated doubleheader Saturday at Iowa but won Sunday's rubber match; all the games were blowouts. Then they had a two-fer at 20th-ranked Kansas St.; they're ranked??? Anyway, they got their brains kicked in by the Wildcats on Tuesday, 12-6, but came back to win Wednesday. In fact, it was a three-pitcher, three-hit, 3-0 shutout!!! That is impressive, and it might be the thing that turns their season around and puts them back in contention for a tournament spot Baseball America predicted for the Gophers before the season, despite the fact they're 20-26. This is their final homestand: The start the last six games at the Metrodome with a weekend series against Michigan, who are tied with Northwestern for first place in the Big Ten.

#-Infinity: Swarm (Last Week: -4). And the local indoor lacrosse team ... lost its quarterfinal playoff game at Washington, 14-10. They got blown out in the first quarter by the Stealth, 6-1 (Washington's 8-0 if they lead after the first) and won the last quarter, 5-2, and that basically shows you how uncompetitive the Swarm was this game. They finish the season losing seven in a row, and they haven't won a game since March 26.

This team has yet to make a playoff run of any significance yet. That puts them one playoff run short of the Wild and the Timberwolves, come to think of it, so either they're close to becoming the best team in Minnesota each winter, or we have a lot of suckitude we have to deal with between Vikings and Twins seasons.

I looked to see if the Swarm have been the worst team in the National Lacrosse League. I made a quick check on Wikipedia, so take my information with a grain of salt, but this isn't the NFL, where you can go from worst to first in a season. It's possible, but I see many teams, many franchises, that have received playoff futility, a few even worse than the Swarm. Until this season's postseason, the Edmonton Rush and the Toronto Rock were out of the playoffs more times than in. Probably the worst franchise in the NLL, however, are the Philadelphia Wings, who have made the playoffs only once in the last eight seasons. Good thing the organization has been around in some form since 1987 and that this is an Eastern, and thus lacrosse-friendly, city; if the Swarm had a track record like that, there would be no Swarm. Of course, if they don't start becoming a contender soon, there might not be a Swarm team to boo.

Today In Right-Wingnut Teabaggery: The Texas Board Of "Education"

This actually happened two months ago, but I wasn't able to get around to it till now. I keep thinking about this and it pisses me off so much I'll devote some time to trashing it.

History is a slippery thing. Yet I had, and continue to have, much faith in historians and educators who put their personal biases and agendas aside and try to ascertain as best and honestly as possible the truth and importance of historical figures and events and economic principles and trends. They certainly could be wrong, and the kids being educated by the textbooks they'll be reading in school deserve no less than rigorous and repeated scrutiny of the facts they're being taught.

But what the Texas Board Of "Education" has done is something completely different. They have screwed with history to make people believe the way they believe. These people don't give a shit about facts or the truth. They're not educators. They're brainwashers.

I ... I have no choice but to respond to the story piece by piece.

“We are adding balance,” said Dr. Don McLeroy, the leader of the conservative faction on the board, after the vote. “History has already been skewed. Academia is skewed too far to the left.”

Bullshit. Facts aren't left or right; you just want to say they're left so you can bend history to your own warped point-of-view. What are you a doctor of, bullshittery?

But rarely in recent history has a group of conservative board members left such a mark on a social studies curriculum.

Why is that? Are they experts in history, sociology or economics? If not, why don't they stay the fuck away from the textbook business and let really grown-ups figure it out??

Efforts by Hispanic board members to include more Latino figures as role models for the state’s large Hispanic population were consistently defeated, prompting one member, Mary Helen Berlanga, to storm out of a meeting late Thursday night, saying, “They can just pretend this is a white America and Hispanics don’t exist.”

Anyone thinking this is a sincere attempt at revisiting the material in our children's textbooks should stop thinking that because of this. These right wingnuts get to put what they want in these books but people who don't suck your dick don't?!?!?! All this is is a bumrush on the collective history of America and the world. And they want to wipe out anybody who isn't white from the pages of history.

There were no historians, sociologists or economists consulted at the meetings, though some members of the conservative bloc held themselves out as experts on certain topics.

What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck???

“I reject the notion by the left of a constitutional separation of church and state,” said David Bradley, a conservative from Beaumont who works in real estate. “I have $1,000 for the charity of your choice if you can find it in the Constitution.”

So if it's not in the Constitution it doesn't exist? That's the only historical document to look at to see if something's American or not? OK, I don't remember seeing the unificiation of church and state in the Constitution, so you lose too, Bradley, you asshole slumlord.

They also included a plank to ensure that students learn about “the conservative resurgence of the 1980s and 1990s, including Phyllis Schlafly, the Contract With America, the Heritage Foundation, the Moral Majority and the National Rifle Association.”

I don't remember learning about any liberal resurgence in history, so where the fuck is the goddamn balance now?? And the kids now have to learn about the gun nuts, a conservative list of laws that Republicans themselves have ignored, a concept that no one knows about, a right-wingnut think tank that no one knows about, and some bitch no one in their right mind gives two shits about? Really???

Dr. McLeroy, a dentist by training, pushed through a change to the teaching of the civil rights movement to ensure that students study the violent philosophy of the Black Panthers in addition to the nonviolent approach of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He also made sure that textbooks would mention the votes in Congress on civil rights legislation, which Republicans supported.

“Republicans need a little credit for that,” he said. “I think it’s going to surprise some students.”

I don't know what this teeth doctor's talking about. I did learn about the Black Panthers, and I do know that many Republicans voted for civil rights measures. All this proves is that they want credit for integration when most of their kind wanted segregation to continue. And they want to discredit the black civil rights movement at the same time? This is racial appropriation, pure and simple.

Mr. Bradley won approval for an amendment saying students should study “the unintended consequences” of the Great Society legislation, affirmative action and Title IX legislation. He also won approval for an amendment stressing that Germans and Italians as well as Japanese were interned in the United States during World War II, to counter the idea that the internment of Japanese was motivated by racism.

Unintended consequences, or imaginary? And this thing about crowding Germans and Italians in internment camps -- when they all were Axis powers, so I don't know why these conservatives are wasting their time defending the enemy -- means they're trying to turn whites into victims when the vast majority of those interned, and the main reason behind its creation, was to jail Japanese. Persecution of white people complex?

Man, I am so pissed off and I'm still not done.

Other changes seem aimed at tamping down criticism of the right. Conservatives passed one amendment, for instance, requiring that the history of McCarthyism include “how the later release of the Venona papers confirmed suspicions of communist infiltration in U.S. government.” The Venona papers were transcripts of some 3,000 communications between the Soviet Union and its agents in the United States.

What the hell are the Venona papers? From what little I know about it -- and I wouldn't listen to the Texas Board of "Education" to educate myself -- this intelligence-gathering project remains thoroughly questioned when it comes to its veracity. If this was a smoking gun about the levels of infiltration by Communist sympathizers in American government in the 40's and 50's, I would have heard of these Venona papers by now. At the very least, these declassified documents don't "confirm" anything. It's just another way to beat a dead horse, Communism, for teabagger purposes.

Mavis B. Knight, a Democrat from Dallas, introduced an amendment requiring that students study the reasons “the founding fathers protected religious freedom in America by barring the government from promoting or disfavoring any particular religion above all others.”

It was defeated on a party-line vote.

Because unlike her teabagger counterparts on the Board, Ms. Knight actually has evidence of her viewpoint -- namely the Constitution, where, in Article 6, Section 3, it states, "No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." Under Bradley's logic, then, there is a separation of church and state in the nation's blueprint. Huh. America wasn't founded on Christian principles. Where in the Constitution does it say it was? Why are they making this shit up?

They want to talk about balance because they want to play the victim card. But as in all things in life, there is a winner and there is a loser. What decides that? The facts. And the facts are that the U.S. was never intended to be a Christian nation. In fact, it was a secular nation whose sole purpose is to protect the people. Moreover, the Founding Fathers believed that religious freedom superceded the pragmatic affairs of government -- indeed, that religious freedom was above the deletrious effects of government. Keep it away from religion, is what the Founding Fathers said. And this fucking Texas Board Of "Education" wants to be Founding Fathers instead. Fuck these people.

In economics, the revisions add Milton Friedman and Friedrich von Hayek, two champions of free-market economic theory, among the usual list of economists to be studied, like Adam Smith, Karl Marx and John Maynard Keynes.

I didn't study economics all that deeply, but I thought I did learn about von Hayek, or at least Friedman. The thing I notice about these two conservative additions is that both men died within this generation. For some reason the TXBO"E" felt it important to codify these economists, however influential, without the objectivity aided by the passage of time. For these people, if someone was dead before they were born, they couldn't have been that important. Their myopia and their disdain for true history is nauseating.

They also replaced the word “capitalism” throughout their texts with the “free-enterprise system.”

“Let’s face it, capitalism does have a negative connotation,” said one conservative member, Terri Leo. “You know, ‘capitalist pig!’ ”

Huh?? Capitalists say capitalism all the time. Stupid capitalist pig.

In the field of sociology, another conservative member, Barbara Cargill, won passage of an amendment requiring the teaching of “the importance of personal responsibility for life choices” in a section on teenage suicide, dating violence, sexuality, drug use and eating disorders.

“The topic of sociology tends to blame society for everything,” Ms. Cargill said.

No it doesn't, you jackass. Society thinks sociology blames society for everything. Sociology is a science, backed by empirical data. It is up to us to come to conclusions. And it's not up to us to codify those conclusions, however right or wrong they may be, in a textbook. The "importance of personal responsibility for life choices" is a vital thing ... to be taught in a health class, not sociology. Couldn't Cargill's concerns be addressed in a different way without fucking with truth-seeking?

Cynthia Dunbar, a lawyer from Richmond who is a strict constitutionalist and thinks the nation was founded on Christian beliefs, managed to cut Thomas Jefferson from a list of figures whose writings inspired revolutions in the late 18th century and 19th century, replacing him with St. Thomas Aquinas, John Calvin and William Blackstone. (Jefferson is not well liked among conservatives on the board because he coined the term “separation between church and state.”)

“The Enlightenment was not the only philosophy on which these revolutions were based,” Ms. Dunbar said.

Oh, because you were there? Thomas Jefferson was the third goddamn president of this country, and Texas schoolchildren won't learn about him anymore? And he's been erased from Texas history because he (listen up Bradley, you douche), said there should be a separation of church and state. So now these fucking people are hiding the truth and getting rid of anybody who stands in their way to brainwash their kids. They really aren't "adding balance." Tough shit for y'all, but Jefferson kind of has more of a say about the origins and the aim of the United States than you people, and if he thinks government has no business in meddling with the way people pray, well, you're just gonna have to deal, don't you?

Well, apparently not, because they were elected to the Board and what they ratified in March will become law. Further evidence this country's going to hell on the religious intolerance and crazy talk of the right-wingnut teabaggers.

Someone actually responded to my job search! Yesterday she told me to take this typing test (the job is a part-time data entry position -- right up my alley!). I did and, after warming up to it, did really well.

I told her my score and she ... well, I wish I remembered what she said exactly, but she didn't believe me. You think I'm lying to you?

So she sent me a link to another test. Instead of me giving her my result, she'll automatically receive it. So it'll inevitably be worse, and she'll think I'm a liar, and I won't get the job. Fucking great.

To Kill An Ant Slowly, Unintentionally

Sunday night I had some writing to do. While surfing, eating and touching myself, I see this ant. It looked like one I saw in the kitchen a couple days before, though I doubt it's the same one. This ant was huge, though, not like the swarm of ants I see ganging up on a piece of food to break their winter-long hibernation. This ant was big, and it was a long wolf, looking for ... well, I'm guessing food.

It searched for it on my laptop, and I jerked back like a little bitch when I saw this monstrouns thing glide along my pad. But after the shock wore off, I let it be. There was only one of it, there's no food around, I figure it's going to leave my sight soon, and I'm a pacifist.

But it kept exploring my keyboard while I tried to work. It wouldn't go away, and it was pissing me off. Finally, after more dawdling, I made the decision to take its life. I don't want to, pal, but you've been in my way for too long.

I took one of the snot rags I keep around because there's still some space for me to fit my nose in to use to squeeze and crush the ant. It was around the number and F keys. I pincer the tissue around my thumb and index finger and proceed to strike. I grab at the ant ... only to see it scurry up my screen, a moving black elongation moving heavenward to the refuge of the top of my laptop.

I sigh at not being able to kill right. Maybe it really isn't in my nature. Oh well, I thought, at least it's away from the keyboard so I can work again, and it'll be so scared off that I it'll finally get off of my computer. But it didn't. It scurried to the right corner of my lid and just stayed there. I couldn't ignore it any longer so I had to stop typing and see what the hell he was doing.

I tried moving the lid up and down to jostle him off, but he held on. He wasn't moving, but he was shaking. I peer closer; it was doing this thing I've seen flies do, namely put its legs behind its head feverishly. Flies do it, I think, to shake off any particles they pick up from flying. This ant, though, it looked different. It felt like he was prying something loose, or desperately trying to put something back where it belonged. Like a leg I broke when trying to kill it.

Such a devastating revelation was confirmed when I saw the ant curl itself into the fetal position and shake violently. Now I really don't know why it was doing that; either it was really attempting to fix something, or it was hurt. Regardless, I don't think it had the ability to crawl off my laptop at this point. And it was my fault.

What to do? The rational thing would be to apologize to the ant and beg for its forgivness, but it's an ant. I wounded it to the point it can't function anymore. I shouldn't've done that. I should've just let it be, or at the very least killed it without making it suffer. So the best thing to be done at this juncture is to kill it for good. This time I have space to maneuver my hands around because the poor ant is stuck in the corner of my laptop lid. So, with the ant physically spasming in a state of shock, I finally crushed the thing in my tissue.

I wish I'd never seen that ant.

Bad Driver: 430 CX(A or H)

You motherfuck. You think this is fucking NASCAR? You are so goddamn lucky there was space for your ass, because I could've died because of you cutting in front of me going north on 212. And once I type that you I saw you looking at your Blackberry while driving, I hope to fucking God that they act to stop your bitch ass and your pissant black Focus.

Go to hell.

Today In Right Wing Teabagger Stories

I've been meaning to do this since I read that the Texas school board will order revampings of schoolbooks to reflect their right-wing teabagger beliefs, introducing capitalism and their unchallenged statement that it's a good thing, and (I believe) injecting intelligent design into science curricula. Dumb Texas fuckers. Hopefully I'll get to them soon.

But this shit is wrong. How in the hell could they go so far as to tear a couple apart and sell their stuff and prevent them from seeing each other before one of them died, even though they had a written, binding statement that they are each other's significant other? And how in the hell does this happen in a blue state like California?

Inattention To TV

I have a short attention span. Which makes it kind of ironic that I would have trouble paying attention when the television's on, because you'd think that watching TV is the source of one's short attention span. But it's not, and two instances this weekend make me regret not focusing on it ... even though I won't remember it 24 hours from now. Because I have a short attention span.

Ever hear of Bill Moyers's Journal? For three years it's been on at 9 o'clock Central Time Friday nights. It gave me a reason to stay on Friday nights (although the local PBS station reruns it late at night). Well, the public affairs show that had a very liberal/progressive bent had its last show on Friday. Even though I disagreed with his many viewpoints about politics and journalism, I for the most part agreed with him, still think he is a much needed voice to combat the screaming right-wing hate speech on cable TV, and wanted to see his last show in its entirety.

There was one part of the extra special 90-minute series finale that I missed and I'm kicking myself over it. This will sound strange, but it was the beginning part of the last segment, just after he wrapped up his interview with his last-ever guest, a writer named Barry Lopez, which frankly I didn't find interesting. I soon turned away to watch the sports segment on the news, but when I came back Moyers had finished the interview with Lopez and began his show-ending thank-yous, replete with scenes of his workers behind the camera and a quick progression of head shots. Now, I don't know if he said anything important after he was done with the interview, and the screen wiped to him solo on-camera beginning with his statement, but since this was the last show of a particularly important program, I wanted to see it.

No problem, I figure, I'll see it again six hours later at 3 in the morning. Except that I dawdle on the Internet, thinking I could just tune in the last five minutes of the show because that's when I turned away for sports. But when I turn on my TV he's in just about the same place he was when I first missed it! Yeah, I'll probably forget, but this is one the few people on TV I think would take the opportunity of ending a show to say something profound, or at least unique. And I'm mad at myself for getting two chances and missing it both times. Why?

---

Fell asleep tonight in the middle of Celebrity Apprentice 3. Sometimes I love watching this show, but sometimes I don't, especially when it seems like the guys are fighting in a mean way, not a funny way. I turned away when they previewed Summer Sanders confronting Cyndi Lauper; it does seem like Lauper is a dingbat, but I still didn't want to see it because it seemed like a setup.

Woke up about a quarter to 11. Ooh, just in time for Seinfeld! But I also wanted to get back on my computer and start writing. What to do? Well, I thought, it's probably a rerun, so let me turn on the TV and keep it on as background noise as I hit the Internet hard.

Turns out that this episode was one I've only partially seen, and it was a particularly strong one: "The Pie," where Jerry's girlfriend wouldn't eat Monk's apple pie and her dad is the restaurant owner who plans to make them dinner but doesn't wash his hands. All the principals get good stories: George trying to get a suit, Elaine and her mannequin doppleganger, and Kramer getting a girlfriend who's good at scratching his itchy back. Good episode. Too bad I was preoccupied with surfing to truly enjoy the ep. Makes me think that if I woke up just before 11 and didn't have time think that maybe I would've just stayed in my bed and watched, which would have been the right thing to do.

Dammit! Too Late!

I am convinced more than ever that My Fucking Father loves to play mind games. Still manipulative, still passive-aggressive, still too damn stubborn to put his toys away and be a grown-up for goddamn once.

Because of his machinations I try and only ask Mother for things when he's not around. I do that especially when it comes to money and employment, two sources of high tension between us. I just can't talk about around him without him going all batshit crazy. However, sometimes I have to talk, so I wait until he's out of earshot.

For example, tonight. I needed the pay stub from my last bi-weekly check. Mother takes care of cashing the check, and she gives me my wages in straight cash, homie. But in asking for the stub (not the money, mind you, just the stub), I know that My Fucking Father would start to ask his goddamn questions about, "When are you going to find a job?" and "Why don't you go back to school?" And I have to start defending myself and yelling just to get him off my back.

Compounding this is that I needed the stub tonight because I needed to send it tonight. I know there weren't many opportunities to ask Mother one-on-one for it, but after dinner My Fucking Father went outside to the driveway to do something. This was my chance! I darted out of my bedroom to the kitchen, where Mother was whipping up smoothies for us.

"Do you have the pay stub?"

What followed, as typical of Mother in retrospect even though I didn't think she would, was ask a litany of questions. Apparently, asking her for something reminds her of questions she's wanted to ask for some time. Like she wanted permission to ask them. But she did -- "Why is the amount of the check different? How much are you giving Grandmother? Do you need the money right now?" Innocuous questions under a different situation. But by extending the conversation well beyond its needed length, My Fucking Father had the time to come back in. When he saw that Mother was talking about money and employment, he leaned back on his old, stupid question when he wanted to ambush me, "Why don't you find a job?"

Fuck you, Father. And goddammit, Mom, all I wanted was for you to say yes and then slip me the pay stub surreptitiously and without stirring up the curiorisities of Father. Now he has to lay into me again, and our relationship is back in the shitter. I stayed out later than I planned because of that fucking son-of-a-bitch.

You wanna know how paranoid I am? Every time I come home late at night I open up their car door to make sure they're not taking away any of my stuff, whether it be papers or magazines. Tonight the minivan door was locked. I thought about it going into the house -- thought about the fight My Fucking Father started, thought how much of a brat he probably is tonight, thought that he really is taking some of my shit away, and thought that I had to be as immature as he is because he is essentially stealing my stuff.

So I decided that, to make absolutely sure he isn't, I would unlock the doors, take my parents' keys, open the door and look inside. I was going to make up an excuse of going into my own trunk and throwing something into their van to dump, but really, I didn't have an excuse and I don't really give a shit if they're mad that I went back outside and opened up their door. By the way, none of my stuff is in there.

Man, why is My Fucking Father such a nag? He's like a woman. He should have been born a woman; that way, Mother could have married a real man, and I would be a real man instead of a frightened, emotionally stunted and unstable man-child. Like My Fucking Father.

Impending Death Of My Favorite Stripclub

I heard from one of my ATF's that my favorite club is about to close. Well, the owner sold his license to someone, and she says that this guy is going to use that license and use it to open up his own hotshot club somewhere downtown, probably around the North Loop where the Twins ballpark is. Once it closes, it's just a matter of time.

This place frequently was a refuge of salvation for me. I remember the first time I went in. This was the bar at the shady end of the bridge, but it had girls there and I was horny, so I finally just said fuck it and in I went. I was there the last, like, half hour before they closed. I only spent two bucks there, and I had to shove it into the hand of the dancer who was trying to make her way to the dressing room. After that I turned to go, only to be stopped by the bartender who gave me directions downtown, even though I didn't ask for them.

But I felt safe enough to go back. And back and back. And I eventually grew to love the place. Sure, the dancers are older and most of them are single moms. But I'm not picky, so they're still pretty fucking hot to me. Plus a coffee's only two bucks after tip; at other SC's it's 8 or even 9 bucks. And there's no cover here, either.

A few years ago I thought they'd shut the place down to sell the land. Turns out the license became the owner's most prized asset, and unless some weird shit happens, about four decades of memories at my favorite SC is going to be wiped from the earth. And soon; for some reason I think they'll clean us all out some time this summer.

Man, that's gonna be some closing party. I have this urge to literally take my dick out and see what all the strippers do. And I won't give a shit if the bouncers or customers or any other male see it. What are they going to do -- throw me out and never allow me to come back?

The downside: I may not be able to see many of my ATF's ... again. I thought I put enough time there to get numbers from all of them, but as of now I've only got, like, three or four. Maybe the impending demise of this club will spur them to give me their digits. Cross my fingers.