#-1: Swarm (Last Week: -1). Saturday I was actually contemplating changing my initial plan of going all the way out to St. Paul to see the Swarm. There was the documentary I Am playing closer by, the Uptown, and the two night screenings had an after-movie Q&A with its director, Tom Shadyac, the same guy who helmed Liar Liar and Bruce Almighty. How many times do hotshot directors drop by Minnesota?
But the short running time dissuaded me from going to something that would give me so much time in the evening to hit myself over the head that I decided to change my plans to watch what may have been an indulgent, lazily liberal doc. And I'm glad I stuck to my original plan. The Swarm won, 16-8 (I swear I have never seen a blowout game in the National Lacrosse League. All the games I've intended, the margin of victory was never more than three goals. Guess that's a good thing) to overtake Washington for second place in the Western Conference, and thus a home playoff game, their first in three years and only their second in franchise history, tonight (Saturday night) against the aforementioned Stealth. Win this, and they'd be in the Western Conference Final match for the first time ever.
The Smarm looked incredibly shaky in the first half of the first quarter -- blown defensive assignments, Goalie Nick Patterson letting in easy shots, stuff like that. But the team managed to rip off eight goals in a row from early in the second period to the very start of the fourth. If this balance keeps up, the Minnesota sports scene might finally have an actual, legitimate team to be proud of. But if they lose Saturday ... ah, well, indoor lacrosse is just a gimmick like pro wrestling, right?
Just win, Swarm, please?
#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). A 4-1 week. That loss, however, is an embarrassing one: 9-6 at lower-division South Dakota St. That's the back half of a scheduled home-and-home, but Tuesday's game at Siebert Field was cancelled due to rain, the sixth game cancelled this season and the tenth otherwise altered because of weather.
Now, can a week be that great if you lose to a lower-division school? I don't think so. But I do have to give the Gophers props. They swept Indiana in Bloomington last weekend (including a doubleheader sweep Saturday by a combined score of 17-3 -- they're the anti-Twins!), and started a home series against Iowa with a 1-0 win ... where they had only one hit, a triple by Troy Larson who came home on a Justin Gominsky sacrifice fly to right field. T. J. Oakes, Billy Soule and Scott Matyas did the rest; although the Hoosiers got eight hits, they failed to score. Damn impressive. Oh, and LHP Tom Windle was named Big Ten Freshman Of The Week for winning the first game of the Indiana doubleheader Saturday afternoon in relief.
Maybe this commences a turnaround for a team projected to win the Big Ten. They finish their series against the Hawkeyes this weekend -- I plan on taking in the Sunday afternoon game at Target Field with a friend -- then go play a midweek one-off at North Dakota St., then start a three-game series at Michigan.
#-3: Wild (Re-Entry!). Why is a team that was eliminated from playoff contention on this list? Because of the Nashville Predators. What the fuck has that got to do with anything?
Well, remember that at around the turn of the millennium, the Wild were one of four expansion teams in the NHL; the Predators and the Atlanta Thrashers were born the year before the Mild and the Columbus Blue Jackets. But of those four, only the Wild were able to say that they won a playoff series. In fact, they won two on their way to that scintillating run to the Western Conference Finals. That's gone as of this week, as the Preds were able to defeat the Anaheim Ducks in their first-round series. The only thing this franchise has against its "brothers" is now gone. Another record lost in a season full of them.
#-4: Vikings (Re-Entry!). I wonder how the draft grades are going to go for the ViQueens, but I know they won't be kind. Look, it's not just, "Christian Ponder?!?!" It's not as if they passed up what will be their surefire Quarterback Of The Future, because there is no QB Of The Future here. What I'm wondering is why they took a quarterback at all. This team has so many needs -- offensive line, cornerback, maybe even wide receiver -- that the available players at those positions must be better than Ponder, who many believe is no better than a second-rounder. You have Joe Webb. You also have little chance of making the playoffs next season, even if you are talking about the parity-stricken NFL. If you can't find the next Sam Bradford or Joe Flacco this year, why try for one? Roll the dice with Webb, maybe get someone like Donovan McNabb (hell, bring back Brett Favre -- I'm telling you he's not ready to retire yet), and try to cobble something together. And if you suck, well, the odds of being in place to get next year's great QB prospect, one without the questions from this year's edition, are much greater.
In later draft news, the Vikes' second-round pick is Tight End Kyle Rudolph out of Notre Dame. Some touts had him going in the first round. This smells like a Best Player Available kind of a thing, but I'm happy with Visanthe Shiancoe. Their next five players I've never heard of.
#-5: Twins (Last Week: -2). Fuck this team. They won the two games they played against American League Central Division-leading Cleveland at home last weekend ... then were swept at Target midweek by the Tampa Bay Rays, including a doubleheader sweep on Thursday where they got the shit kicked out of them in the first game, 15-3. They also wound up the screening week by blowing a lead in the seventh inning and losing at Kansas City Friday.
Apparently there were a lot of bad mental errors that led to the Twinks' loss last (Friday) night. Oh, sure, Alex Burnett failed to hold the lead they scratched out in the sixth. But there was a stupid baserunning error by Danny Valencia in that inning, plus a couple throwing errors that allowed the Royals to scratch in runs in the seventh and eighth. This was a come-from-behind win by the fucking Royals, guys.
We're not out of April yet, and there is plenty of time to turn things around. But fuck it, I'll stick a fork in 'em. Joe Mauer's going to be out for some time, Delmon Young's got some lingering issues, Jim Thome's been out, and Francisco Liriano's time with the team is fast running out. They can't hit, they can't pitch, and now their defense sucks. Worst of all, it looks like this team is harkening back to the years where they surged in the second half of the season, so they're just biding their time and trying to get healthy for the run that they believe they'll just turn it on. Guys, the law of averages says you're bound to suck. And if this goddamn team doesn't show signs of life soon, the payback will happen this year, and it will happen with a vengeance. After they finish in K.C. this weekend they have yet another two-game series -- isn't there only one a year? -- at Chicago, another team with high expectations that have yet to pan out. Then they start a three-game series against the Boston Red Sox in Fenway Park.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
OK, does anybody experience -- it just happened!!! -- that when they start typing, the sentence they're currently typing on jumps down a space? WTF?
I guess that if that's the only editor issue that I have going on now, I won't rock the boat. Better this weird jumpy thing than not getting paragraph breaks when re-editing your blog.
I'm tired. That's it.
I guess that if that's the only editor issue that I have going on now, I won't rock the boat. Better this weird jumpy thing than not getting paragraph breaks when re-editing your blog.
I'm tired. That's it.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Suddenly Feeling Poor ... And Scared
With a lot more fatigue, things at work went just as swimmingly today as they did the day before. But then I got to my second job and things took a turn for the worse.
One, we were told that we worked so hard last night that there is no need for us to come in on Saturday. Moreover, I was reminded once again that our project ends soon. Initially we were told it was the 2nd, which I didn't realize until today was Monday. But since it makes no sense to come in to work one night, the projected termination date for this job is ... Friday.
I have many bills to pay and accounts to replenish. I've been busy to really sit down and map out what my current employment is getting me. But if this project really ends in 48 hours, and if I can't find anything else, that will put a serious crimp in my financial planning.
Moreover, I now start to question some splurges I wanted to indulge in now that I might lose my second job. You mean I can't buy chocolates for my day group? Can I go this house party and see if one of the girls will wank my dick? How about a masseuse that gives happy endings -- I can't afford that anymore? Can I afford Red Robin? Or even a trip to St. Louis?
One, we were told that we worked so hard last night that there is no need for us to come in on Saturday. Moreover, I was reminded once again that our project ends soon. Initially we were told it was the 2nd, which I didn't realize until today was Monday. But since it makes no sense to come in to work one night, the projected termination date for this job is ... Friday.
I have many bills to pay and accounts to replenish. I've been busy to really sit down and map out what my current employment is getting me. But if this project really ends in 48 hours, and if I can't find anything else, that will put a serious crimp in my financial planning.
Moreover, I now start to question some splurges I wanted to indulge in now that I might lose my second job. You mean I can't buy chocolates for my day group? Can I go this house party and see if one of the girls will wank my dick? How about a masseuse that gives happy endings -- I can't afford that anymore? Can I afford Red Robin? Or even a trip to St. Louis?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Maybe My Enemies Aren't My Enemies After All!
Hmmm ... maybe all it takes is a day to turn things around.
Yesterday was sunny, yet I felt like shit. Today was cloudy and raining all day, yet it was good!
I got less than four hours of sleep, but this morning ... I don't know, but I was on kind of a high. And the lessons we went through went well, and the morning, and then afternoon, flew by. And I felt good.
Oh, and the guy I thought was an asshole for making fun of me when I forgot to turn off my phone? Somehow I worked witht he guy in the afternoon. And, as far as I can tell, he wasn't a dick. He even shook my hand when we were done. Maybe I have Asperger's and can't pick up on social cues, but maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe he's not a dick.
The hottest girl in my project sits in the row in front of me. For some reason I thought she was kind of standoffish, a kind of bitch. But while there was a question on the other side of the big room we're in, she finally locked into my glance (after a few days of looking at her ... dude, she's hot) and she commented in my general direction, "I just wanna go!" Hey, we have a connection. Maybe I'll actually make eye contact with her when I smile tomorrow.
Finally, at my either job, you remember I told you about my ex-co-worker from my ushering job? The one who I think snapped at me? We didn't talk at all all night. Figures, I thought, he's just being his true self, someone insular, someone who forgets the people he knows from way back when. But then, right when we were released from work and I was getting my coat on, he commented, in a joking way, about me being dressed for winter. It's cold here! Anyway, he's talking to me again. Yippee!!
And this is where I have to confess: I am in a much happier mood if the people who don't seem to like me, or the ones who I think are shunning are me, turn out to be totally OK with me. That means that I was just imagining things. I wish I were more of an even-keep type of person, unaffected by the people around me and the way they're acting, especially towards me. I'm not that kind of guy. I can't be. Their feelings about and toward me are all-important, I'm afraid. Even when I lash out in anger over what I perceive to be their slight, justified or not, that shows that I give a damn about how they feel about me, even when I act like it doesn't. Of course, since everything seems to be cool at work, things are great!
Now watch them turn on me and make fun of me tomorrow.
Yesterday was sunny, yet I felt like shit. Today was cloudy and raining all day, yet it was good!
I got less than four hours of sleep, but this morning ... I don't know, but I was on kind of a high. And the lessons we went through went well, and the morning, and then afternoon, flew by. And I felt good.
Oh, and the guy I thought was an asshole for making fun of me when I forgot to turn off my phone? Somehow I worked witht he guy in the afternoon. And, as far as I can tell, he wasn't a dick. He even shook my hand when we were done. Maybe I have Asperger's and can't pick up on social cues, but maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe he's not a dick.
The hottest girl in my project sits in the row in front of me. For some reason I thought she was kind of standoffish, a kind of bitch. But while there was a question on the other side of the big room we're in, she finally locked into my glance (after a few days of looking at her ... dude, she's hot) and she commented in my general direction, "I just wanna go!" Hey, we have a connection. Maybe I'll actually make eye contact with her when I smile tomorrow.
Finally, at my either job, you remember I told you about my ex-co-worker from my ushering job? The one who I think snapped at me? We didn't talk at all all night. Figures, I thought, he's just being his true self, someone insular, someone who forgets the people he knows from way back when. But then, right when we were released from work and I was getting my coat on, he commented, in a joking way, about me being dressed for winter. It's cold here! Anyway, he's talking to me again. Yippee!!
And this is where I have to confess: I am in a much happier mood if the people who don't seem to like me, or the ones who I think are shunning are me, turn out to be totally OK with me. That means that I was just imagining things. I wish I were more of an even-keep type of person, unaffected by the people around me and the way they're acting, especially towards me. I'm not that kind of guy. I can't be. Their feelings about and toward me are all-important, I'm afraid. Even when I lash out in anger over what I perceive to be their slight, justified or not, that shows that I give a damn about how they feel about me, even when I act like it doesn't. Of course, since everything seems to be cool at work, things are great!
Now watch them turn on me and make fun of me tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
I Know I'm Paranoid
When I don't get a lot of sleep, I get very cross, a lot more cross than usual. And I get real paranoid, a lot more paranoid than usual. Just today it's ... things are on the knife's edge, you know?
See that gas is still around $3.90 a gallon. I spilled about $19 into my tank Sunday on my way to St. Paul, but after my trip to the two places I work, I needed it again. With the cost of a barrel of oil apparently going up, I didn't know whether I should put a sip in or more. I split the difference and threw in another $30 in -- only half of my gas tank. In my day, a twenty could fill 'er up!
Meanwhile, the fatigue is getting to me. Tonight was agony; the answers keep getting dumber, and yet I continue to have to fight through my weariness. Also, I think a co-worker of mine, one whom I worked with a long time ago, snapped at me. Don't need that shit.
Worst of all, in the break room, I didn't see some people. I had one project I started doing, then last week I was shunted off to another project. There were a few people there I remember from the old one, including one who sat to the right of me. I kind of missed them, but I figure that since their project was going on for at least another three weeks, there'd be plenty of time for me to say a passing hello in the hallway or something.
Well, today there was a noticeable quiet from the usual hubbub. And the people I remember from my old project are gone. They can't be done this early, can they? Were they let go so soon? Was I luckier than I thought that I was forced to jump ship before the reaper reaped? Shit.
Well, I'm glad I still get a chance to make some money. But how long will it truly last? Will it be enough? If not, is it worth it?
Finally, after getting home from work, I see that Grandmother forgot again to take her insulin shot. If I'm not around to remind her at the end of the day, how in the hell is she going to remember when I'll be out of the country next month? She's gonna die while I'm gone, I tell ya.
Looking at a little porn, then I have to hit the hay. Getting very sleepy now. ...
See that gas is still around $3.90 a gallon. I spilled about $19 into my tank Sunday on my way to St. Paul, but after my trip to the two places I work, I needed it again. With the cost of a barrel of oil apparently going up, I didn't know whether I should put a sip in or more. I split the difference and threw in another $30 in -- only half of my gas tank.
Meanwhile, the fatigue is getting to me. Tonight was agony; the answers keep getting dumber, and yet I continue to have to fight through my weariness. Also, I think a co-worker of mine, one whom I worked with a long time ago, snapped at me. Don't need that shit.
Worst of all, in the break room, I didn't see some people. I had one project I started doing, then last week I was shunted off to another project. There were a few people there I remember from the old one, including one who sat to the right of me. I kind of missed them, but I figure that since their project was going on for at least another three weeks, there'd be plenty of time for me to say a passing hello in the hallway or something.
Well, today there was a noticeable quiet from the usual hubbub. And the people I remember from my old project are gone. They can't be done this early, can they? Were they let go so soon? Was I luckier than I thought that I was forced to jump ship before the reaper reaped? Shit.
Well, I'm glad I still get a chance to make some money. But how long will it truly last? Will it be enough? If not, is it worth it?
Finally, after getting home from work, I see that Grandmother forgot again to take her insulin shot. If I'm not around to remind her at the end of the day, how in the hell is she going to remember when I'll be out of the country next month? She's gonna die while I'm gone, I tell ya.
Looking at a little porn, then I have to hit the hay. Getting very sleepy now. ...
Monday, April 25, 2011
Hate When I Forget To Hide My Secrets
Got back from the Chris Cornell concert tonight. (Great show, by the way: Paid a scalper $25 when the price was $37-9. Not a sellout, unlike what the Fitzgerald Theater and Pollstar websites said. In fact, there was no one sitting in the row in front of me. I was in one of the last rows in the back, but the floor's raked so high that I had a good chance of seeing over anybody of average height -- if he were sitting in front of me. That there wasn't meant I had a clear shot of Mr. Cornell. He was a little covers-heavy, but his wailing voice remains intact, and I was incredibly impressed by his playing, especially on the little flamenco dervishes on probably the oldest self-written song he played tonight, "Mind Riot." God, I'm glad I lied to my parents that I was working tonight.)
Anyway, just in case I wasn't able to get in, I brought my laptop with me. I could just dink around and bide my time when the 'Rents think I'm "working." When I got home, I took out the lap from my trunk, and when I got inside, I do what I usually do, put it on the couch. Then I brought in the rest of the stuff I had in my trunk, threw it on my bed, changed and hopped into the shower.
When I went downstairs to close the garage door and grab me a Pepsi, I heard Father talking loudly, probably over the phone to someone. And my parents' light was still on, from what I could see from the bottom of the door as I passed it. This is around midnight on a Sunday night.
As I was taking my shower, I could hear Father outside going upstairs and making himself something to eat, as often is his wont. After making myself clean, I then checked Grandmother's blood pressure and sugar. She doesn't want me to check hers at night anymore, but I was kinda pissed at her this weekend for blindly parroting my parents' lecturing me on not wasting gas on going around time doing fun things, so fuck her. Father was long gone by the time I went back into my room.
I was looking for my laptop so I could start work on this. But I didn't see it. Then I remembered -- Shit, I left it outside! So I got it from the couch. Then I started thinking: Father must've seen it. What must he have been thinking? That I lied to him and just wanted to go out to use the laptop while having a coffee so he wouldn't climb on my back about wasting four-dollar-a-gallon gasoline? Maybe not, but I'm paranoid.
If anything passive-aggressive comes from him in the near future, I'll let y'all know.
Anyway, just in case I wasn't able to get in, I brought my laptop with me. I could just dink around and bide my time when the 'Rents think I'm "working." When I got home, I took out the lap from my trunk, and when I got inside, I do what I usually do, put it on the couch. Then I brought in the rest of the stuff I had in my trunk, threw it on my bed, changed and hopped into the shower.
When I went downstairs to close the garage door and grab me a Pepsi, I heard Father talking loudly, probably over the phone to someone. And my parents' light was still on, from what I could see from the bottom of the door as I passed it. This is around midnight on a Sunday night.
As I was taking my shower, I could hear Father outside going upstairs and making himself something to eat, as often is his wont. After making myself clean, I then checked Grandmother's blood pressure and sugar. She doesn't want me to check hers at night anymore, but I was kinda pissed at her this weekend for blindly parroting my parents' lecturing me on not wasting gas on going around time doing fun things, so fuck her. Father was long gone by the time I went back into my room.
I was looking for my laptop so I could start work on this. But I didn't see it. Then I remembered -- Shit, I left it outside! So I got it from the couch. Then I started thinking: Father must've seen it. What must he have been thinking? That I lied to him and just wanted to go out to use the laptop while having a coffee so he wouldn't climb on my back about wasting four-dollar-a-gallon gasoline? Maybe not, but I'm paranoid.
If anything passive-aggressive comes from him in the near future, I'll let y'all know.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I Have A Bad Relationship With Money
With me having a real straight-up job now (well, two of them), me and money are going through another new dalliance in our dance. I'm afraid of it, don't know how to handle or control it. I bitch about it when I don't have it, yet as soon as I get some I give it away. It frightens me, money, because in this capitalist society it's the one thing that allows me to do things, but not only do I hate doing anything to get it, but it seems to leave me as soon as it's gone.
A bunch of things yesterday illustrate my dangerous tête-a-tête:
I'm planning on going to the Chris Cornell concert tonight. It's in St. Paul, so I'm using up some gasoline. I still hear My Fucking Father yelling at me about not going anywhere yesterday. And as I was about to leave for my run of aborted errands my parents came home; Mother yelled at me about wasting gas as I left this afternoon. I didn't care, and yet because of all the shit I failed to do, this nagging in my head is getting louder and louder. Just to get them off my back, I lied to them and said I'm going to work tonight. They bought it. But maybe I shouldn't go to the concert.
Fuck, I will. I have two jobs. I'm rolling in the dough. Right?
A bunch of things yesterday illustrate my dangerous tête-a-tête:
- I was trying to fill out my expenses for the month, and I flipped through my credit card statement online to see if I wrote down anything that I actually did not pay in cash. I then stumbled upon a fear in the back of my head that came true: I'm charging a hell of a lot of shit on my credit card. And most of them are expenses I need to incur (gasoline) or mundane pleasures in my life I'm not ready to cut out (coffee). Last month there were one-time charges on satellite radio, a donation to a political action committee and a special night out or two. But even subtracting all that, last month's bill reached $700. Gas doesn't quite explain all of that.
- When having dinner with my family tonight, there was a story on the news about the high price of gas. I was dressed and ready to go the Swarm game tonight, but My Father said, "Don't go anywhere you don't have to," to which my Grandmother thoughtlessly repeated, "You shouldn't go anywhere you don't have to, which is a very, very annoying tic. They're both right, but I don't give a shit -- it's Saturday, should I just stay home?
- Still, I go out. And I get money for tonight, for a trip to the stripclub. With money coming in, I think I can afford it. Even though all of my income has to pay for my trip to Tuscany and my previous credit card bill.
- I've never paid more than ten bucks for a Swarm ticket, so when a guy hanging out in the passenger's seat of a minivan offers me a pass for a ticket for $5, I pounce on it. As he drove away I thought, What if he ripped me off? I had a passing thought of getting its license plate, yet I leave for the gate and don't turn around, and he drives off. Thankfully, it worked.
- God, that's a nice Swarm "V" year souvenir Coke cup. I should've bought one. Too late.
- And then they win the lacrosse game, ensuring a home game for next week's playoff match. Oh, I already have a ticket to the North Star Roller Girls bout. It would've been another chance to buy a souvenir cup.
- Finally, at the strip club, I didn't get a lapdance, but I did get a massage from a girl whom I think gives happy endings if we were anywhere else. It was excellent, even if she didn't accede to my request to do it topless. The kinks all around my back are gone, and they still are gone as I type this. But after I gave her $20 for her time, the waitress at the bar, the former stripper, the one whose tits I bite into and once had a small disagreement over whether she gave me a handjob or merely touched my penis, she hectored me for getting a tip. I told her it was like a dance and she didn't ask for one. "But still," she said. I need to see titty, so I prevented any bad blood between her and me by walking over her and fucking giving the masseuse/stripper five bucks. But I had to give her the Evil Eye on my way back to my chair. OK, so there's gonna be bad blood. Don't ever tell me what to do, and especially, don't ever, EVER tell me what to spend my money on. It's mine, not yours.
I'm planning on going to the Chris Cornell concert tonight. It's in St. Paul, so I'm using up some gasoline. I still hear My Fucking Father yelling at me about not going anywhere yesterday. And as I was about to leave for my run of aborted errands my parents came home; Mother yelled at me about wasting gas as I left this afternoon. I didn't care, and yet because of all the shit I failed to do, this nagging in my head is getting louder and louder. Just to get them off my back, I lied to them and said I'm going to work tonight. They bought it. But maybe I shouldn't go to the concert.
Fuck, I will. I have two jobs. I'm rolling in the dough. Right?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Swarm (Last Week: -4). They won their only game, an 11-9 defeat at home of lowly Philadelphia. Forward Ryan Benesch scored three goals, giving him 43 for the season, a franchise record. And it gives him the National Lacrosse League scoring title; his closest competitors completed their seasons last weekend. The Most Valuable Player award has to follow, right?
Best of all, Washington lost at home against Rochester later that evening. That means the Swarm and the Stealth are now tied for second place. More importantly, Minnesota has ousted Washington from the driver's seat. That means that if the Swarm wins tonight's game against Colorado at Xcel, they will host the Stealth in their playoff matchup. It'd be only their second home playoff game ever. If they lose, they go to Washington next week. I'm thinking about going to tonight's game.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). A 3-3 week, with only the second-ever rainout in Target Field history to cap it. I told y'all we needed a retractable roof. We're paying $360 million for a new ballpark, and we can't foot another $100 million to make sure a baseball game gets played when we say it should be played? People are stupid most of the time. And they will not make up the game this series. What, players can't play two in April, even under cloudy, cold and rainy weather like this?
Pitching has gotten better, but the lineup hasn't. Morneau is starting for the first time in five games today against Cleveland, a game in progress. Mauer's still out, Delmon Young is hurt, and some people are recovering from the flu. It's a long season, but I don't get the feeling this will be the Twins' year. Maybe the fact that the largest margin of victory they've won by is 2 (twice, both coming this screening week) influences my pessimism. The Twins continue their homestand after their two games against Cleveland with a three-game sting versus Tampa Bay mid-week, then they start a weekend series at Kansas City Friday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). The Goofs are currently in ninth place in the Big Ten after an 0-2-2 week, the last "-2" being two postponements. The midweek tilt at Siebert Field against South Dakota St. and Friday's matchup at Indiana were both called off due to rain. That makes nine games altered by rain, four postponements and five cancellations. And the first game of what is now a doubleheader today is currently in a rain delay in the top of the sixth (tied at 2) because of lightning. I didn't know the NCAA had a rule where a game must be halted for 30 minutes upon the first sightning of lightning. Not a bad idea, come to think of it.
I was at the two losses at Target against Northwestern. The pitching wasn't bad, although they weren't clutch; the Wildcats were able to brings some runners in from scoring position both Saturday and Sunday. Conversely, Minnesota was virtually unable to string a rally together either game, especially on Sunday, which is incredibly frustrating.
I still like going to Target, even though it was cold and kind of raw both days, especially Saturday. If it were just as cloudy but 10 degrees warmer, so I wouldn't have to worry about catching a cold, that would be ideal for me to see a Gophers game in the big park; I would think it's great to take in a game, but since most people wouldn't think the same way, I wouldn't have to fight a crowd. By the way, Minnesota MR: I don't appreciate you guys not putting in a scorecard in Sunday's program.
They are in Indiana through a scheduled matinee tomorrow, then make up their game against SDSU as part of a home-and-home midweek (they play at Siebert Tuesday afternoon, then go to Brookings, S.D. to play Wednesday afternoon), then start a three-game set against Iowa at home. Plan on going to either the Saturday or Sunday game. Hopefully they would've won by then.
Best of all, Washington lost at home against Rochester later that evening. That means the Swarm and the Stealth are now tied for second place. More importantly, Minnesota has ousted Washington from the driver's seat. That means that if the Swarm wins tonight's game against Colorado at Xcel, they will host the Stealth in their playoff matchup. It'd be only their second home playoff game ever. If they lose, they go to Washington next week. I'm thinking about going to tonight's game.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). A 3-3 week, with only the second-ever rainout in Target Field history to cap it. I told y'all we needed a retractable roof. We're paying $360 million for a new ballpark, and we can't foot another $100 million to make sure a baseball game gets played when we say it should be played? People are stupid most of the time. And they will not make up the game this series. What, players can't play two in April, even under cloudy, cold and rainy weather like this?
Pitching has gotten better, but the lineup hasn't. Morneau is starting for the first time in five games today against Cleveland, a game in progress. Mauer's still out, Delmon Young is hurt, and some people are recovering from the flu. It's a long season, but I don't get the feeling this will be the Twins' year. Maybe the fact that the largest margin of victory they've won by is 2 (twice, both coming this screening week) influences my pessimism. The Twins continue their homestand after their two games against Cleveland with a three-game sting versus Tampa Bay mid-week, then they start a weekend series at Kansas City Friday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). The Goofs are currently in ninth place in the Big Ten after an 0-2-2 week, the last "-2" being two postponements. The midweek tilt at Siebert Field against South Dakota St. and Friday's matchup at Indiana were both called off due to rain. That makes nine games altered by rain, four postponements and five cancellations. And the first game of what is now a doubleheader today is currently in a rain delay in the top of the sixth (tied at 2) because of lightning. I didn't know the NCAA had a rule where a game must be halted for 30 minutes upon the first sightning of lightning. Not a bad idea, come to think of it.
I was at the two losses at Target against Northwestern. The pitching wasn't bad, although they weren't clutch; the Wildcats were able to brings some runners in from scoring position both Saturday and Sunday. Conversely, Minnesota was virtually unable to string a rally together either game, especially on Sunday, which is incredibly frustrating.
I still like going to Target, even though it was cold and kind of raw both days, especially Saturday. If it were just as cloudy but 10 degrees warmer, so I wouldn't have to worry about catching a cold, that would be ideal for me to see a Gophers game in the big park; I would think it's great to take in a game, but since most people wouldn't think the same way, I wouldn't have to fight a crowd. By the way, Minnesota MR: I don't appreciate you guys not putting in a scorecard in Sunday's program.
They are in Indiana through a scheduled matinee tomorrow, then make up their game against SDSU as part of a home-and-home midweek (they play at Siebert Tuesday afternoon, then go to Brookings, S.D. to play Wednesday afternoon), then start a three-game set against Iowa at home. Plan on going to either the Saturday or Sunday game. Hopefully they would've won by then.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Where I Did Too Much And Fucked Up My Routine
This all started last night. I was up so late looking at porn -- I finally found some scans of the best pictorials from Penthouse, from the halcyon days, around the turn of the millenium, the first issues where the magazine finally made the plunge into full-core hardcore, with blowjobs and actual fucking, and even peeshots -- that I got, like, less than four hours of sleep. I mentally made a note that because I will probably be out the door late, I'll just put on my zip sweater. I wasn't late -- thank Buddha I was up on time -- but I threw on that sweater like I intended.
As I was driving to work, I realized that I had screwed up my system. I have four college sweaters: hoodies from USC and St. Thomas, and regular sweaters from Minnesota and Georgetown. Because I have OCD, I made it a point that when I got back into the workforce, I would wear these four sweaters four of the five workdays, and one of the two zip sweaters I have the fifth.
The zip I was wearing I wore a few days ago. Then I remembered that I did not wear my U. sweater yet. And it bothered the living shit out of me. All morning I really, really was upset at myself for not remembering that I hadn't worn it today. I mean, it takes a tad longer to pull something over my head, but not that longer, and I wasn't late, so why not?
I tried to calm myself down. What are you gonna do, self, drive home and change? Waste gas as you pull away from your route on the way to your other job tonight? You know you're gonna forget come Monday, so get over yourself.
But I couldn't. This scenario slowly took over my mind. It's in the 40's and drizzling all day -- perfect weather for my bulky Minnesota sweater. When I go into my car to try and take a nap during breaks, I will pass out knowing that I'll be appropriately warm, not too cold. I won't be able to do this next week, when the forecast is sunny and temperatures in the 60's. I try taking a nap in my U. sweater and I'll sweat through my clothes. That means I'll have to drop wearing my college gear next week because it'll be too hot. Which made completing it this week a priority.
Alll of this thinking was driving me crazy. And I was mad at myself for not doing it. All morning, before lunch, all I could think about was figuring out if I had the time to take a quick short-cut to home to switch sweaters. At least I could keep up my weekly college sweater quota for my night job. And my U. sweater might be a little too geeky for the hot bitch sitting in the row in front of me.
We had lunch at high noon. I could feel the pull of having less than four hours of sleep weighing on my body clock. But I felt my chance to do something in my 30 minutes to myself -- and since we've been doing things late the past couple days, it's more like 35 minutes. Hmmm, I thought to myself, traffic isn't that bad in the morning, so it won't be even that bad at lunchtime. It was about 15 or 20 minutes getting here ... I could go home now and get the sweater. Let's do it! So despite not really needing to go home, despite driving an extra 16 miles, despite needing some shut-eye and despite giving into my disorder, I decided to start my car and bolt for home -- just so I can grab my sweater.
I felt a rush as I drove away from work. Can I do this? I thought. There was an incredible sense of freedom, an escape that I fundamentally need in my life, however unnecessary. But to assuage my logical side, I decided there some other things I could do to kind of justify this trip. I had a social security card I meant to take out of my wallet; don't want anybody stealing it. And I could check up on Grandmother, just in case. Plus, there is the matter of picking up new registers for my checkbook. I'm full up and I haven't balanced it yet this year because I ran out of space. If traffic falls right, I'll have time to stop by the bank, get those, and come back to work in time.
Well, as fast as I drove, I got home in about 17 minutes -- not a great pace. Grandmother wasn't home. Did drop off my SS card, though, and I did remember to grab the sweater. I'm bad at remembering to do the thing I go out of my way to do frequently. In the meantime I saw that these bastard gas stations jacked up the price of a gallon from $3.78 to $3.96 over the course of the morning. I thought the price of a barrel of crude oil has gone down!
Red lights scuttled my plan of going to the bank; have to get back to work. And I turned off my car, in the same parking spot as I had this morning, 32 minutes after I left. Since we always run late, it's good enough.
There were papers being handed out by the time I got back to my station, but it didn't look like the main supervisor had begun her "lesson," so I was good. Didn't accomplish much, but the fact that I could drive all the way home and make it back without getting in trouble was good enough for me. I have that fact I can store away in my mental databank.
So I look through these papers we're handed. All of a sudden I hear a phone ringing. Dude, turn off the phone! Everybody's looking at where it's coming from.
Then this fear slowly creeps over me: The ringing is coming from below me. No ... no. I recently changed my ringtone; that's why I felt that it was somebody else's. But it wasn't. I reach into my jacket pocket and take out my cell. Yep, that ringing was my phone. Me, the good ol' boy, the one who secretly prided himself on being the teacher's pet all through my years in elementary, junior high and high school, forgot to turn off his goddamn phone after turning it on to begin my lunch break.
Then the catcalls began. My immediate supervisor said, hopefully jokingly, I get one warning. The shit-talking fatboy behind me warned me, probably not jokingly, that next time I have to hand it over and pay five bucks to get it back because that's how it's done in high school these days. Thanks, you fucking asshole. We were one of the few young people here. I thought you'd be kind of cool. You turn out to be one of those bullies that won't stop talking or asking smartass questions because you want everybody in the room to know how bewildered you are about all this bullshit we're being paid to work on. Please shut your goddamn mouth from now on, or else I'll have to turn around and spit in your face. Oh, to have an excuse to finally do that to some prick.
I felt the good vibes that I felt I had the past couple days melt away. My supervisors seemed to like my production; now they think I'm a fuck-up. My face turned red when, immediately after I turned off my phone, the main supervisor got on her microphone to warn everybody to turn off their cellphones. I couldn't concentrate on the task in front of me; the ridicule suffocated me, the eyes from my judging co-workers shooting holes into my torso. My embarrassment turned to resentment, naturally -- What, you've never fucked up in your job? Go to hell, I hate you all!!! And goddamn you for putting me on probation, I just forgot to turn off my phone, OK? I had these visions of throwing things around the room as I leave for getting fired. Man, I'm paranoid.
Of course, all I have to blame for this is myself. If I didn't jet towards home for my fucking sweater, I would've been on my regular routine of turning on my phone, setting my alarm, closing my eyes, failing to nap, waking up to my alarm, turning off my alarm and phone, then heading back inside. I was in a rush getting back to my computer, and I forgot to turn off my phone. By the way, it was Mother calling me to make sure I was not coming home early tonight. I'm not; I'm out late to blog about this, actually.
The mature thing to do was to quickly apologize to both of my supervisors and vow that it would never happen again. Of course, I can't guarantee that because I'm human. I am now deathly afraid that I set my alarm for a future time before disabling it or shutting off my phone. It would then turn itself automatically on, unbeknownst to me, and I'd be terminated. I actually took the battery out of my phone in case I did that. And I might do that from now on. Fuck me.
For what it's worth, they both understood and didn't act like I owed them anything or was under their scrutiny. I told them I was expecting a call; the main reminded me messages can be taken from reception. I will take that under consideration, just in case.
Yet, I still feel under the gun. And still ashamed.
As I was driving to work, I realized that I had screwed up my system. I have four college sweaters: hoodies from USC and St. Thomas, and regular sweaters from Minnesota and Georgetown. Because I have OCD, I made it a point that when I got back into the workforce, I would wear these four sweaters four of the five workdays, and one of the two zip sweaters I have the fifth.
The zip I was wearing I wore a few days ago. Then I remembered that I did not wear my U. sweater yet. And it bothered the living shit out of me. All morning I really, really was upset at myself for not remembering that I hadn't worn it today. I mean, it takes a tad longer to pull something over my head, but not that longer, and I wasn't late, so why not?
I tried to calm myself down. What are you gonna do, self, drive home and change? Waste gas as you pull away from your route on the way to your other job tonight? You know you're gonna forget come Monday, so get over yourself.
But I couldn't. This scenario slowly took over my mind. It's in the 40's and drizzling all day -- perfect weather for my bulky Minnesota sweater. When I go into my car to try and take a nap during breaks, I will pass out knowing that I'll be appropriately warm, not too cold. I won't be able to do this next week, when the forecast is sunny and temperatures in the 60's. I try taking a nap in my U. sweater and I'll sweat through my clothes. That means I'll have to drop wearing my college gear next week because it'll be too hot. Which made completing it this week a priority.
Alll of this thinking was driving me crazy. And I was mad at myself for not doing it. All morning, before lunch, all I could think about was figuring out if I had the time to take a quick short-cut to home to switch sweaters. At least I could keep up my weekly college sweater quota for my night job. And my U. sweater might be a little too geeky for the hot bitch sitting in the row in front of me.
We had lunch at high noon. I could feel the pull of having less than four hours of sleep weighing on my body clock. But I felt my chance to do something in my 30 minutes to myself -- and since we've been doing things late the past couple days, it's more like 35 minutes. Hmmm, I thought to myself, traffic isn't that bad in the morning, so it won't be even that bad at lunchtime. It was about 15 or 20 minutes getting here ... I could go home now and get the sweater. Let's do it! So despite not really needing to go home, despite driving an extra 16 miles, despite needing some shut-eye and despite giving into my disorder, I decided to start my car and bolt for home -- just so I can grab my sweater.
I felt a rush as I drove away from work. Can I do this? I thought. There was an incredible sense of freedom, an escape that I fundamentally need in my life, however unnecessary. But to assuage my logical side, I decided there some other things I could do to kind of justify this trip. I had a social security card I meant to take out of my wallet; don't want anybody stealing it. And I could check up on Grandmother, just in case. Plus, there is the matter of picking up new registers for my checkbook. I'm full up and I haven't balanced it yet this year because I ran out of space. If traffic falls right, I'll have time to stop by the bank, get those, and come back to work in time.
Well, as fast as I drove, I got home in about 17 minutes -- not a great pace. Grandmother wasn't home. Did drop off my SS card, though, and I did remember to grab the sweater. I'm bad at remembering to do the thing I go out of my way to do frequently. In the meantime I saw that these bastard gas stations jacked up the price of a gallon from $3.78 to $3.96 over the course of the morning. I thought the price of a barrel of crude oil has gone down!
Red lights scuttled my plan of going to the bank; have to get back to work. And I turned off my car, in the same parking spot as I had this morning, 32 minutes after I left. Since we always run late, it's good enough.
There were papers being handed out by the time I got back to my station, but it didn't look like the main supervisor had begun her "lesson," so I was good. Didn't accomplish much, but the fact that I could drive all the way home and make it back without getting in trouble was good enough for me. I have that fact I can store away in my mental databank.
So I look through these papers we're handed. All of a sudden I hear a phone ringing. Dude, turn off the phone! Everybody's looking at where it's coming from.
Then this fear slowly creeps over me: The ringing is coming from below me. No ... no. I recently changed my ringtone; that's why I felt that it was somebody else's. But it wasn't. I reach into my jacket pocket and take out my cell. Yep, that ringing was my phone. Me, the good ol' boy, the one who secretly prided himself on being the teacher's pet all through my years in elementary, junior high and high school, forgot to turn off his goddamn phone after turning it on to begin my lunch break.
Then the catcalls began. My immediate supervisor said, hopefully jokingly, I get one warning. The shit-talking fatboy behind me warned me, probably not jokingly, that next time I have to hand it over and pay five bucks to get it back because that's how it's done in high school these days. Thanks, you fucking asshole. We were one of the few young people here. I thought you'd be kind of cool. You turn out to be one of those bullies that won't stop talking or asking smartass questions because you want everybody in the room to know how bewildered you are about all this bullshit we're being paid to work on. Please shut your goddamn mouth from now on, or else I'll have to turn around and spit in your face. Oh, to have an excuse to finally do that to some prick.
I felt the good vibes that I felt I had the past couple days melt away. My supervisors seemed to like my production; now they think I'm a fuck-up. My face turned red when, immediately after I turned off my phone, the main supervisor got on her microphone to warn everybody to turn off their cellphones. I couldn't concentrate on the task in front of me; the ridicule suffocated me, the eyes from my judging co-workers shooting holes into my torso. My embarrassment turned to resentment, naturally -- What, you've never fucked up in your job? Go to hell, I hate you all!!! And goddamn you for putting me on probation, I just forgot to turn off my phone, OK? I had these visions of throwing things around the room as I leave for getting fired. Man, I'm paranoid.
Of course, all I have to blame for this is myself. If I didn't jet towards home for my fucking sweater, I would've been on my regular routine of turning on my phone, setting my alarm, closing my eyes, failing to nap, waking up to my alarm, turning off my alarm and phone, then heading back inside. I was in a rush getting back to my computer, and I forgot to turn off my phone. By the way, it was Mother calling me to make sure I was not coming home early tonight. I'm not; I'm out late to blog about this, actually.
The mature thing to do was to quickly apologize to both of my supervisors and vow that it would never happen again. Of course, I can't guarantee that because I'm human. I am now deathly afraid that I set my alarm for a future time before disabling it or shutting off my phone. It would then turn itself automatically on, unbeknownst to me, and I'd be terminated. I actually took the battery out of my phone in case I did that. And I might do that from now on. Fuck me.
For what it's worth, they both understood and didn't act like I owed them anything or was under their scrutiny. I told them I was expecting a call; the main reminded me messages can be taken from reception. I will take that under consideration, just in case.
Yet, I still feel under the gun. And still ashamed.
The Peeper
This happened about two weeks ago, maybe more.
I was taking a shit at "work" at the U. I may have told y'all this, but when I took my mid-session shit break, I went down a floor, maybe two. The possibility that another person from the lab would walk into the bathroom in the same floor I was "working" at and hear and/or see me, especially as I walk out of the bathroom stall. And I dread hearing someone walk into the stall next to me and then listen to the grunts and poop drops, wondering if I know the guy.
So I was at the one at the fifth floor. As I was defecating, I hear the door open. Shit. But this time, the swinging open of the door was accompanied by music. Someone's listening to his iPod. This can't be good.
This prick, he didn't have the decency to either bend down or kneel to see my feet in the stall. He just went up to the door and pushed it like he assumed it was unoccupied, all the while riding an insulated bed of his own music, oblivious to the noises around him ... or the guy who was taking a shit in the stall he was about to go into.
"Hey, come on now!" I said, not loudly but not in a whisper. It happened at least once before at the U., and I hate it. What happened next, however, hasn't happened since the gay-curious bullies that were picking on me back in junior high.
The son-of-a-bitch actually lifted his head above the door to look inside. I can't believe the goddamn pervert. I saw a black hat, hair coming out the bottom through the sides, and a pair of eyes planted in a really fat head. He looked like a dope. So I was accosted by a combination dope/perv.
"What the fuck?!" I said, not quietly, but not screaming it, either. I should have screamed, though -- that motherfucker was invading my personal space. I mean, who stares into a stall besides a fucking goddamn pedophile?
He moseyed out of the bathroom quickly. Maybe he heard me say, "Goddammit!" behind him. I was so fucking mad I wanted to leap off the toilet and chase him down, and I didn't care if my pants were around my ankles and my dick was swinging back and forth. Unfortunately, I had to wipe my ass. I don't want my feces falling on the floor, or into my underwear. So I stayed.
I still think I should report that incident to the U., even if it is two or three weeks ago. I don't care about the stigma about a peep. That fucker -- I don't know if he was looking to see a vulnerable man naked or is just fucking stupid -- needs to pay. But how do I report an incident, especially that does not post a threat to life and/or limb?
I was taking a shit at "work" at the U. I may have told y'all this, but when I took my mid-session shit break, I went down a floor, maybe two. The possibility that another person from the lab would walk into the bathroom in the same floor I was "working" at and hear and/or see me, especially as I walk out of the bathroom stall. And I dread hearing someone walk into the stall next to me and then listen to the grunts and poop drops, wondering if I know the guy.
So I was at the one at the fifth floor. As I was defecating, I hear the door open. Shit. But this time, the swinging open of the door was accompanied by music. Someone's listening to his iPod. This can't be good.
This prick, he didn't have the decency to either bend down or kneel to see my feet in the stall. He just went up to the door and pushed it like he assumed it was unoccupied, all the while riding an insulated bed of his own music, oblivious to the noises around him ... or the guy who was taking a shit in the stall he was about to go into.
"Hey, come on now!" I said, not loudly but not in a whisper. It happened at least once before at the U., and I hate it. What happened next, however, hasn't happened since the gay-curious bullies that were picking on me back in junior high.
The son-of-a-bitch actually lifted his head above the door to look inside. I can't believe the goddamn pervert. I saw a black hat, hair coming out the bottom through the sides, and a pair of eyes planted in a really fat head. He looked like a dope. So I was accosted by a combination dope/perv.
"What the fuck?!" I said, not quietly, but not screaming it, either. I should have screamed, though -- that motherfucker was invading my personal space. I mean, who stares into a stall besides a fucking goddamn pedophile?
He moseyed out of the bathroom quickly. Maybe he heard me say, "Goddammit!" behind him. I was so fucking mad I wanted to leap off the toilet and chase him down, and I didn't care if my pants were around my ankles and my dick was swinging back and forth. Unfortunately, I had to wipe my ass. I don't want my feces falling on the floor, or into my underwear. So I stayed.
I still think I should report that incident to the U., even if it is two or three weeks ago. I don't care about the stigma about a peep. That fucker -- I don't know if he was looking to see a vulnerable man naked or is just fucking stupid -- needs to pay. But how do I report an incident, especially that does not post a threat to life and/or limb?
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wish me luck -- I start my second job tomorrow morning, in about seven hours. I need this job -- it's potentially $500 a week, and with a $1,200 trip to Tuscany and a $900 credit card bill, the length of the project still might not be enough to pay for it.
I'm just scared as fuck that I won't have the energy to get through both jobs. I remember the last time I had an eight-hour workday job in the daytime. Regularly, I would hit a wall around the 1 o'clock hour and I would literally fall asleep at my computer. I wonder how I didn't get fired. It's embarrassing nonetheless. And in this position, where you have a quota to meet and breaks and lunch are regimented, I could totally run into this problem again. If I fall asleep in this job, I will be caught, and there's a chance I could get canned, easy.
I just have to keep my eyes on the prize, namely the money I need to pay off my bills. I hope I'm able to keep this job.
I'm just scared as fuck that I won't have the energy to get through both jobs. I remember the last time I had an eight-hour workday job in the daytime. Regularly, I would hit a wall around the 1 o'clock hour and I would literally fall asleep at my computer. I wonder how I didn't get fired. It's embarrassing nonetheless. And in this position, where you have a quota to meet and breaks and lunch are regimented, I could totally run into this problem again. If I fall asleep in this job, I will be caught, and there's a chance I could get canned, easy.
I just have to keep my eyes on the prize, namely the money I need to pay off my bills. I hope I'm able to keep this job.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Stealing Away With A Gallon Of Milk
Grandmother did it again. A few weeks ago, she went crazy at Sam's Club and bought all this food in bulk. Most egregiously, she purchased two huge gallons of whole milk. None of us drink whole milk anymore. I mean, Father and I would. But we know it's full of fat, and even though it tastes great, I've decided to go down to 2%. Father will drink anything.
When I told her this, Grandmother said she didn't think too much of it. Never mind that the kind of milk is color-coded; the red caps indicate whole, and hopefully it does everywhere. But Grandmother, being both forgetful and not being all that observant in the first place, ignored it. "We'll drink it," she said, before putting both gallons in the refrigerator.
But we didn't. Grandmother tapped the first one, but I haven't been drinking it because I bought a half-gallon of 2% and I'm still not done with that one, three weeks after I bought it. Buying that milk was a waste, a huge fucking waste, and she's done this before and it makes my skin crawl.
Seeing as there was still one unopened gallon of whole milk and an expiration date that must've been fast approaching, late last week I decided to donate it. I wanted to do it the week before, but 1) I didn't have time and 2) right when I could grab the gallon out of the fridge, Grandmother would be there watching me. Now, this is someone who let My Father take away all the bags of clothes she accumulated and stored in my sister's former bedroom and didn't do anything about it. Would she get pissed at me if I just walked away with a gallon of milk she bought right in front of her eyes? No. But I would still feel weird.
What finally convinced me to do it was the future prospect of both of my jobs taking up all of my time. That day was probably the last day I was able to do it, because of the time I had and because it may have been the last day where going to the donation site was on the way to "work" at the U. I didn't care if Grandmother saw me, I was going to give this milk away.
Until I did care if Grandmother saw me. This was well past the noon hour, but if I remember correctly, she had just finished her lunch. She does this thing where she hovers around me, trying to engage me in conversation, but I had to leave, so she kind of wandered back into her bedroom.
That gave me time to dive into the fridge and get the milk. But she didn't get into her bed to start watching her Chinese DVD's; no, I heard her shuffling footsteps and I immediately slammed the refrigerator door. Oh, fuck it, I thought, I have to leave.
But ... one more chance. The milk's just going to waste in there. I had brought, I think, my laptop with me, so I had an excuse to just throw that in the car and come back in, for some reason. Meanwhile, Grandmother didn't saunter back out to the kitchen but instead went to the bathroom to pee or something. Phew! That gave me the chance I needed. While the bathroom door was mostly closed (we stopped caring about closing doors, especially bathroom ones, a long time ago), I went back to the fridge, opened it, took out the virgin gallon from the bottom, and out I went.
Ah, that felt good. But after work later that evening, I opened up the fridge to find something to eat, and I saw a gallon of skim milk at the bottom, from where I took the whole milk from. And then I had this thought of Grandmother opening the refrigerator, looking down, thinking, "What the ... ?" feeling panicked because she was confused, and then thinking that the gallon she thought was down there was the skim milk jug she put up top, and because it's easier for her to carry, she brought down that jug from the top shelf. She might be wondering to this day, "I swear there was a gallon of milk down there."
I wish I had the heart to tell her I took it. I would then, uh, lecture -- okay, yell at -- her about buying shit we won't drink. Honesty's always the best policy. But it's been a week. Maybe she forgot already. And weeks after this is over, she'll go to Sam's Club and once again buy more stuff we won't drink. And I'll surreptitiously try and take it from under her nose again.
When I told her this, Grandmother said she didn't think too much of it. Never mind that the kind of milk is color-coded; the red caps indicate whole, and hopefully it does everywhere. But Grandmother, being both forgetful and not being all that observant in the first place, ignored it. "We'll drink it," she said, before putting both gallons in the refrigerator.
But we didn't. Grandmother tapped the first one, but I haven't been drinking it because I bought a half-gallon of 2% and I'm still not done with that one, three weeks after I bought it. Buying that milk was a waste, a huge fucking waste, and she's done this before and it makes my skin crawl.
Seeing as there was still one unopened gallon of whole milk and an expiration date that must've been fast approaching, late last week I decided to donate it. I wanted to do it the week before, but 1) I didn't have time and 2) right when I could grab the gallon out of the fridge, Grandmother would be there watching me. Now, this is someone who let My Father take away all the bags of clothes she accumulated and stored in my sister's former bedroom and didn't do anything about it. Would she get pissed at me if I just walked away with a gallon of milk she bought right in front of her eyes? No. But I would still feel weird.
What finally convinced me to do it was the future prospect of both of my jobs taking up all of my time. That day was probably the last day I was able to do it, because of the time I had and because it may have been the last day where going to the donation site was on the way to "work" at the U. I didn't care if Grandmother saw me, I was going to give this milk away.
Until I did care if Grandmother saw me. This was well past the noon hour, but if I remember correctly, she had just finished her lunch. She does this thing where she hovers around me, trying to engage me in conversation, but I had to leave, so she kind of wandered back into her bedroom.
That gave me time to dive into the fridge and get the milk. But she didn't get into her bed to start watching her Chinese DVD's; no, I heard her shuffling footsteps and I immediately slammed the refrigerator door. Oh, fuck it, I thought, I have to leave.
But ... one more chance. The milk's just going to waste in there. I had brought, I think, my laptop with me, so I had an excuse to just throw that in the car and come back in, for some reason. Meanwhile, Grandmother didn't saunter back out to the kitchen but instead went to the bathroom to pee or something. Phew! That gave me the chance I needed. While the bathroom door was mostly closed (we stopped caring about closing doors, especially bathroom ones, a long time ago), I went back to the fridge, opened it, took out the virgin gallon from the bottom, and out I went.
Ah, that felt good. But after work later that evening, I opened up the fridge to find something to eat, and I saw a gallon of skim milk at the bottom, from where I took the whole milk from. And then I had this thought of Grandmother opening the refrigerator, looking down, thinking, "What the ... ?" feeling panicked because she was confused, and then thinking that the gallon she thought was down there was the skim milk jug she put up top, and because it's easier for her to carry, she brought down that jug from the top shelf. She might be wondering to this day, "I swear there was a gallon of milk down there."
I wish I had the heart to tell her I took it. I would then, uh, lecture -- okay, yell at -- her about buying shit we won't drink. Honesty's always the best policy. But it's been a week. Maybe she forgot already. And weeks after this is over, she'll go to Sam's Club and once again buy more stuff we won't drink. And I'll surreptitiously try and take it from under her nose again.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
RIP, Mafia Wars On MySpace
Well shit, that was quick. A few months after Overdrive shut down on MySpace, Mafia Wars did the same.
I was busy watching Gopher baseball games at Target Field this weekend, so I don't quite remember if I checked in at all since, oh, Friday afternoon. (Maybe I did Saturday afternoon, before the game, while I was having coffee and watching the NBA Playoffs online.)
I logged in just about a half-hour ago and see this message saying they had shut down effective today, if today was Monday the 18th. They apologized for the suddenness of the termination, but they said "coding issues" necessitated the virtually immediate ending.
I hadn't blogged about this yet, but Green ... Planet (?) has been impossible to get into for the past few months. Not like I cared about it too much -- I wasn't really "playing" it, just clicking on and saying "OK" to the same two messages that popped up -- the second I clicked on it and it said "temporarily down" or something like that, I stopped opening it up. I figured I'd try it on occasion and if it was back up, it'd be back up. I haven't tried it in a while, but with the death of Mafia Wars, I don't think Green Planet is up. And I don't think it ever will be.
So in a matter of, oh, a year, four of the five games I played on MySpace went away. Only Mobsters is left, and at the rate things are going, it'll be gone soon. Shit man, everybody's jumping the MySpace ship. What I signed up to just so I could be "friends" with chicks I saw naked in Playboy is fast becoming a ghost town. I get status updates all the time on MySpace, but my "friends" are updating through Twitter, not on MySpace. Without Twitter, MySpace would be nothing.
I was busy watching Gopher baseball games at Target Field this weekend, so I don't quite remember if I checked in at all since, oh, Friday afternoon. (Maybe I did Saturday afternoon, before the game, while I was having coffee and watching the NBA Playoffs online.)
I logged in just about a half-hour ago and see this message saying they had shut down effective today, if today was Monday the 18th. They apologized for the suddenness of the termination, but they said "coding issues" necessitated the virtually immediate ending.
I hadn't blogged about this yet, but Green ... Planet (?) has been impossible to get into for the past few months. Not like I cared about it too much -- I wasn't really "playing" it, just clicking on and saying "OK" to the same two messages that popped up -- the second I clicked on it and it said "temporarily down" or something like that, I stopped opening it up. I figured I'd try it on occasion and if it was back up, it'd be back up. I haven't tried it in a while, but with the death of Mafia Wars, I don't think Green Planet is up. And I don't think it ever will be.
So in a matter of, oh, a year, four of the five games I played on MySpace went away. Only Mobsters is left, and at the rate things are going, it'll be gone soon. Shit man, everybody's jumping the MySpace ship. What I signed up to just so I could be "friends" with chicks I saw naked in Playboy is fast becoming a ghost town. I get status updates all the time on MySpace, but my "friends" are updating through Twitter, not on MySpace. Without Twitter, MySpace would be nothing.
Monday, April 18, 2011
She Mad At Me For Taking Out My Dick?
Sorry to be so vague, but I am now very, very worried about one of the girls at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version). I might be trouble. Or, she might be done with me, in which case I'm done with her, which means this will have to become vindictive.
I don't remember if I blogged about this at all, but this girl (again, I will not mention her by name), is a dancer, literally. The second time I saw her, about a couple years ago, she told me about this other job she did performing. And I have to say, it was a hell of a show. It's part vaudeville, part burlesque. Irony is, she isn't one of the girls who dances. She's an acrobat, and a clothed one at that. And I tell ya, she's awesome in it. She has since broken away from that company to co-lead another one, and it's gotten better -- more, hotter burlesque girls and weirder interstitial skits. But I'll be honest with you, every month, she's just about the best act in the show.
During or after each performance I'd say hi and tell her great show. We used to talk for a minute or so, where she would offer information about how it came together, and sometimes we wound up with a hug. So I felt we had a connection, a certain acquaintance chemistry. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to assume.
Or maybe I was just too frisky when I did this to her.
She seemed OK. Or was she? The next month I saw her I took it slow -- just a quick wave before leaving. Next month, another quick wave. She didn't chase me down, didn't give me a smile, nothing. That's when I started to become afraid that in fact she didn't like me taking out my dick in front her two times. Maybe she's angry with me, and regretted ever telling me about her other job. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with me. Maybe she would be OK with never seeing me again, or worse, having me come to her shows (the vaudeville/burlesque ones) and tipping her money and not showing me any warmth or affection, ever again.
I'm starting to feel not regret for my "mistake" but frustration and anger that she turned on me. So last month I gave her one more chance. I would not leave the club until I gauged how she really felt about me.
So after the show I see her talking wtih people she apparently knew. I just boldly went up to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "Hey, great show, I loved that you're putting new stuff in." That's all I said. While I was saying that, all she did was nod and say, "Yep, yep," as if she either wanted me to go away or was trying to talk over me so no one else could hear me. Well.
I've been thinking about her treatment towards me that night. I sometimes feel guilty; maybe I betrayed her sense of trust or just grossed her out when I exposed myself to her. But then I think that if she was so mad, why doesn't she tell me? Is ignoring me supposed to send a message that she wants me to fuck off? You're going to have to expend a little more energy if you want me to do that -- you know, sit me down, have a heart-to-heart talk. Or just kick me out of the club.
Partly because of my torn feelings, partly because I might run into her at the stripclub, and partly because I still think she's fucking hot as hell, I gave her yet one more chance this past Friday. I didn't know how to approach her, but I got my chance when she was hanging back near the bar. I was there the whole show, and after an act was finished and before she was able to squirm away from me, I just sidled up to her, tapped her on the arm and said, "Great show, love it a lot!" She nodded and smiled, broadly, too broadly, like she was overcompensating for the contempt she truly has for me. I didn't want to make a good situation bad, or a bad one worse, so I was walking away as I said my six-or-so words.
I don't know what to make of it, to be honest with you. But for the past two or so years, I have been to her monthly show. The one time I didn't make I wasn't there because she told me she was not going to be there. These are great shows, and I would miss going to them. But I'm not going to the shows anymore if all she is gonna do is passive-aggressively let me know she didn't like what I did. At the very least -- the very least -- I want her to appreicate my patronage and the fact I always tip the show when I'm there. If she doesn't care anymore, or if taking out my pee-pee outweighs that, well, she should have the decency -- and the balls -- to say so. Hopefully in private and not with anybody on the show (least of all her boyfriend, whom she probably told already), but say so, goddammit.
I don't remember if I blogged about this at all, but this girl (again, I will not mention her by name), is a dancer, literally. The second time I saw her, about a couple years ago, she told me about this other job she did performing. And I have to say, it was a hell of a show. It's part vaudeville, part burlesque. Irony is, she isn't one of the girls who dances. She's an acrobat, and a clothed one at that. And I tell ya, she's awesome in it. She has since broken away from that company to co-lead another one, and it's gotten better -- more, hotter burlesque girls and weirder interstitial skits. But I'll be honest with you, every month, she's just about the best act in the show.
During or after each performance I'd say hi and tell her great show. We used to talk for a minute or so, where she would offer information about how it came together, and sometimes we wound up with a hug. So I felt we had a connection, a certain acquaintance chemistry. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to assume.
Or maybe I was just too frisky when I did this to her.
She seemed OK. Or was she? The next month I saw her I took it slow -- just a quick wave before leaving. Next month, another quick wave. She didn't chase me down, didn't give me a smile, nothing. That's when I started to become afraid that in fact she didn't like me taking out my dick in front her two times. Maybe she's angry with me, and regretted ever telling me about her other job. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with me. Maybe she would be OK with never seeing me again, or worse, having me come to her shows (the vaudeville/burlesque ones) and tipping her money and not showing me any warmth or affection, ever again.
I'm starting to feel not regret for my "mistake" but frustration and anger that she turned on me. So last month I gave her one more chance. I would not leave the club until I gauged how she really felt about me.
So after the show I see her talking wtih people she apparently knew. I just boldly went up to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "Hey, great show, I loved that you're putting new stuff in." That's all I said. While I was saying that, all she did was nod and say, "Yep, yep," as if she either wanted me to go away or was trying to talk over me so no one else could hear me. Well.
I've been thinking about her treatment towards me that night. I sometimes feel guilty; maybe I betrayed her sense of trust or just grossed her out when I exposed myself to her. But then I think that if she was so mad, why doesn't she tell me? Is ignoring me supposed to send a message that she wants me to fuck off? You're going to have to expend a little more energy if you want me to do that -- you know, sit me down, have a heart-to-heart talk. Or just kick me out of the club.
Partly because of my torn feelings, partly because I might run into her at the stripclub, and partly because I still think she's fucking hot as hell, I gave her yet one more chance this past Friday. I didn't know how to approach her, but I got my chance when she was hanging back near the bar. I was there the whole show, and after an act was finished and before she was able to squirm away from me, I just sidled up to her, tapped her on the arm and said, "Great show, love it a lot!" She nodded and smiled, broadly, too broadly, like she was overcompensating for the contempt she truly has for me. I didn't want to make a good situation bad, or a bad one worse, so I was walking away as I said my six-or-so words.
I don't know what to make of it, to be honest with you. But for the past two or so years, I have been to her monthly show. The one time I didn't make I wasn't there because she told me she was not going to be there. These are great shows, and I would miss going to them. But I'm not going to the shows anymore if all she is gonna do is passive-aggressively let me know she didn't like what I did. At the very least -- the very least -- I want her to appreicate my patronage and the fact I always tip the show when I'm there. If she doesn't care anymore, or if taking out my pee-pee outweighs that, well, she should have the decency -- and the balls -- to say so. Hopefully in private and not with anybody on the show (least of all her boyfriend, whom she probably told already), but say so, goddammit.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Tae Kwon Do Place Gets Torn Down, Finally
There is a stretch of road not too far from our house that I and brother went to a lot. There was an old McDonald's there that became our hangout. That's long been abandoned.
There was also a tae kwon do place that always kind of stuck out to us. I remember being driven past there numerous occasions. I thought of all the karate movies I saw when I was young and did all the "hi-ya" stuff triggered in part by that building.
I never wanted to go into it, however. My God, I was just a kid. I wasn't serious.
One day, while my brother and I were just hanging out some weekend afternoon, not having a care in the world, my Grandmother and aunt came to me and said that My Father wanted to take my brother to the tae kwon do place. OK. But then they wanted me to come with them to talk to the guy. They said they needed my help speaking English to him in order to enroll him.
I immediately pitched a fit. I knew what that meant. That meant that they were going to enroll me. I didn't want to go, and I resented trying to be tricked. There was a huge pool table we used to play with in the basement, and I was playing with my M.A.S.K. figurines when they told me what they were going to do, and I remember throwing one on the table, adamantly refusing to go despite telling me that they just needed my help.
Well, my Grandmother and aunt played dirty. They called My Fucking Father up again. Either they talked to him right in front of me or they put the phone up to my ear so I had to hear him yell at me, but the bottom line was I was going ... and fuck all trickery, they were going to sign up my brother and me.
Man, you should've seen me at this tae kwon do master's office. I was angry and bitter, and I think I had my arms crossed the whole time. But I had to help, otherwise I would've witnessed an embarrassing situation where they would try to babble out some words in English and he would've just threw up his hands like he's saying, "What?" Stupid me for helping.
Maybe it was her idea, but another aunt of mine, the mother of the cousin we used to hang out with often, also signed up. And maybe because My Fucking Father wanted to convince us to do tae kwon do, but my Grandmother also signed up. So it was me, my brother, my aunt, my cousin, and Grandmother all working out for the next year at this place. I hated going there often, but since I was a kid, I liked running around and talking with the other students and acting like I was Bruce Lee.
However, since this wasn't my idea, I slowly grew to resent it. They fast-track a lot of students in tae kwon do; in a year I progressed from a white to a yellow to a yellow with a green stripe. That's to encourage the youngsters from not quitting. Well, we did. Partly it was because I just hated it.
But there are three distinct memories that convinced me that this sucked. One was when we went downstairs to the changing room. I saw one of the vets, possibly the owner's son, changing. Dude, the only dude taking out his dick in front of me is me. Another was when we and this other guy misbehaved and didn't follow the rules, specifically bowing in due penance before entering the workout area. The asshole instructor for this class made us do push-ups and jump in the air as punishment before we began. I hate him.
The third was when I missed tae kwon do for a week because I was sick. You see, to totally commit to tae kwon do, you have to take it seriously. That means coming in regularly. I hated that; it was like work. Anyway, after I came back, the entire family was taking a class and stretching out. I had uttered something to my family that my sides hurt after taking so much time off. Then, the owner, who was instructing us in this class, went after me. "You had a week off! Don't you complain about how you're hurt!" Or something like, I vaguely remember not knowing why he was mad and, well, not giving a shit why he was upset. Man, can't someone utter a fucking complaint once in a while.
Once our annual contract was done, we were out. Shit, one time when we told My Father we were going to class, my aunt took us all to bowling. That was more productive than any time spent in class. So not only did I never step foot in that place, I think I avoided going onto the frontage road leading towards that place ever again.
Well, times change. The city for the past several years wanted to redevelop the strip where that frontage road was into residences. For a long time to the old McDonald's land and the tae kwon do place were two of the last three holdouts. It was weird seeing those buildings and yards of bare grass for the longest time.
But the city finally succeeded. Last week, seemingly overnight, the last three buildings in that area the city wanted to clear were torn down, inculding the tae kwon do. It's amazing how fast a building can be destroyed.
I felt kind of bad to see a lifelong dream die. But then last night I looked around and saw that they did not go out of business. Instead, they had migrated northward to a new, and bigger, place. They actually opened about six weeks ago. So now I don't feel bad at all. Now I'm just fucking glad I don't ever have to see that place whenever I go somewhere. Good fucking riddance, bad memories.
There was also a tae kwon do place that always kind of stuck out to us. I remember being driven past there numerous occasions. I thought of all the karate movies I saw when I was young and did all the "hi-ya" stuff triggered in part by that building.
I never wanted to go into it, however. My God, I was just a kid. I wasn't serious.
One day, while my brother and I were just hanging out some weekend afternoon, not having a care in the world, my Grandmother and aunt came to me and said that My Father wanted to take my brother to the tae kwon do place. OK. But then they wanted me to come with them to talk to the guy. They said they needed my help speaking English to him in order to enroll him.
I immediately pitched a fit. I knew what that meant. That meant that they were going to enroll me. I didn't want to go, and I resented trying to be tricked. There was a huge pool table we used to play with in the basement, and I was playing with my M.A.S.K. figurines when they told me what they were going to do, and I remember throwing one on the table, adamantly refusing to go despite telling me that they just needed my help.
Well, my Grandmother and aunt played dirty. They called My Fucking Father up again. Either they talked to him right in front of me or they put the phone up to my ear so I had to hear him yell at me, but the bottom line was I was going ... and fuck all trickery, they were going to sign up my brother and me.
Man, you should've seen me at this tae kwon do master's office. I was angry and bitter, and I think I had my arms crossed the whole time. But I had to help, otherwise I would've witnessed an embarrassing situation where they would try to babble out some words in English and he would've just threw up his hands like he's saying, "What?" Stupid me for helping.
Maybe it was her idea, but another aunt of mine, the mother of the cousin we used to hang out with often, also signed up. And maybe because My Fucking Father wanted to convince us to do tae kwon do, but my Grandmother also signed up. So it was me, my brother, my aunt, my cousin, and Grandmother all working out for the next year at this place. I hated going there often, but since I was a kid, I liked running around and talking with the other students and acting like I was Bruce Lee.
However, since this wasn't my idea, I slowly grew to resent it. They fast-track a lot of students in tae kwon do; in a year I progressed from a white to a yellow to a yellow with a green stripe. That's to encourage the youngsters from not quitting. Well, we did. Partly it was because I just hated it.
But there are three distinct memories that convinced me that this sucked. One was when we went downstairs to the changing room. I saw one of the vets, possibly the owner's son, changing. Dude, the only dude taking out his dick in front of me is me. Another was when we and this other guy misbehaved and didn't follow the rules, specifically bowing in due penance before entering the workout area. The asshole instructor for this class made us do push-ups and jump in the air as punishment before we began. I hate him.
The third was when I missed tae kwon do for a week because I was sick. You see, to totally commit to tae kwon do, you have to take it seriously. That means coming in regularly. I hated that; it was like work. Anyway, after I came back, the entire family was taking a class and stretching out. I had uttered something to my family that my sides hurt after taking so much time off. Then, the owner, who was instructing us in this class, went after me. "You had a week off! Don't you complain about how you're hurt!" Or something like, I vaguely remember not knowing why he was mad and, well, not giving a shit why he was upset. Man, can't someone utter a fucking complaint once in a while.
Once our annual contract was done, we were out. Shit, one time when we told My Father we were going to class, my aunt took us all to bowling. That was more productive than any time spent in class. So not only did I never step foot in that place, I think I avoided going onto the frontage road leading towards that place ever again.
Well, times change. The city for the past several years wanted to redevelop the strip where that frontage road was into residences. For a long time to the old McDonald's land and the tae kwon do place were two of the last three holdouts. It was weird seeing those buildings and yards of bare grass for the longest time.
But the city finally succeeded. Last week, seemingly overnight, the last three buildings in that area the city wanted to clear were torn down, inculding the tae kwon do. It's amazing how fast a building can be destroyed.
I felt kind of bad to see a lifelong dream die. But then last night I looked around and saw that they did not go out of business. Instead, they had migrated northward to a new, and bigger, place. They actually opened about six weeks ago. So now I don't feel bad at all. Now I'm just fucking glad I don't ever have to see that place whenever I go somewhere. Good fucking riddance, bad memories.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Positive Numbers: Minnesota Duluth men's hockey (New!). First of all, thank you very much, Bulldogs fans. You ran 7th St. on Saturday, yet there wasn't enough of you that scalpers were jacking up prices for other fans who wanted to see that night's final. Of the four teams in the Frozen Four last weekend, North Dakota had the biggest travelling fanbase -- and they still did even though their Fighting Sioux was upset by Michigan in Thursday's semi.
But UMD was the only team to leave the Xcel Energy Center, St. Paul, and the weekend with something to cheer about. With a goal 3 1/2 minutes into sudden death overtime, the Bulldogs defeated the Wolverines, 3-2, to win its first-ever championship. I've always thought Minnesota-Duluth had a good hockey program, so I was shocked to learn last week that they hadn't popped that title cherry yet. But with physicality and relentlessness, they did. I still hate the school because they always seem to have the U.'s number; however, I feel good for all the Bulldog fans I sat with, smiled back to, and high-fived during and after the game. Gosh, it must feel good to be a fan of a winner.
Things are shitty in the State of Minnesota sports-wise, but there is an oasis of joy on the shores of Lake Superior. Last year the women's hockey team won the national championship (at Ridder Arena; I was there and am blessed to have witnessed a triple-overtime thriller against Cornell), and in December the UMD football team won the Division II championship. What is the Minnesota-Duluth athletic department doing that the Minnesota-Twin Cities AD not doing?
#-1: Lynx (Re-Entry!). When you pick first in the draft and there are no-doubt players to be selected, it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Thank Buddha the Jynx didn't do anything stupid -- they just picked the consensus top player in women's college basketball and a game-changing Forward, Maya Moore, with the top pick in the WNBA Draft on Monday. Moore may be the female basketball player in recent history: four-time All-American, three-time winner of the Wade Trophy (probably best women's college basketball player), and two -time champion at UConn. Becoming a member of the Lynx will be like jumping from saddle to saddle while both horses are galloping at full speed.
Moore, along with the team's other first-round pick, F Amber Harris out of Xavier, gives the Lynx, like, 20 first-round draft picks on their roster. Like I've said before, with so much goddamn talent they've accumulated by awful losing, now they can't lose. One of those first-round picks was one also taken first overall by the Jinx: Seimone Augustus. She has been the focal point of the team since being drafted by them in 2006. But lack of winning and injuries have made me question how long we can continue keeping her around. She seems like a nice woman, and when healthy she can ball like few others. But the Lynx are rebuilding, again, and if they have Moore (along with, like, 15 other post players), isn't it time to think about trading Augustus -- say, to Atlanta, or even Tulsa (which is much closer to her Baton Rouge, La. home)? It'd loosen up the Lynx's roster and give Augustus a fresh start away from so much bad karma here. I think it should happen, and I think people in the front office are thinking about it more than they let on.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). A 1-5 week. Right now their record stands at 4-9. And now Joe Mauer is being looked over for ... what is it called? Bilateral leg weakness?? He can't stand up on his two feet anymore??? Horrific. (Well, now anymore; now they're saying it's just a virus and not an indication of any long-term health issues ... or so they would have us believe.)
But can Joltin' Joe pitch in relief? Thursday's 10-inning come-from-ahead loss to the Bay Rays in Tampa, when they got the lead in the top of the inning, is the "highlight" of a 4-9 start, the worst in Ron Gardenhire's coaching career. All four victories, the last being a 4-3 decision over Kansas City back on Tuesday, are by a single run. And they still have yet to score more than five runs a game. I guess a more salient question should be, Can Joltin' Joe hit? He hasn't yet; Mauer's got a .289 On-Base Percentage and a .265 Slugging Percentage.
This feels like a situation where a shock to the system -- like trading a pitcher in the rotation for some bullpen help so Kyle Gibson can join the big league team -- is in order. We'll see. They finish up in Tampa, start a four-game set in Baltimore and a stadium I still want to see, Camden Yards, then begin a three-game set against Cleveland at Target Friday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). This team will not make the NCAA Tournament. A 1-3 week, accentuated by a three-game road sweep at Michigan St. and a loss in Siebert to fucking St. Thomas, for God's sake. They won their series opener against Northwestern in Target Friday, averting a complete wash-out screening week.
This week they finish their series against the Wildcats, host South Dakota St. at Siebert Wednesday, then begin a trio at Indiana Friday. After I get done with this WMNSS, I will be going to Target Field to watch the Gopher game this afternoon. It's overcast with temperatures in the forties. I doubt this is what the Twins were thinking about when they were trying to convince us taxpayers to make a stadium for them. But it's ours, it's here, and it is outdoor baseball in a fantastic ballpark without the crowds.
I doubt there's going to be more than 3,000 people there this afternoon. Why aren't more baseball fans coming out to see this game, besides the weather? You can't enjoy this $545 million edifice without the crowds -- without Twins fans? I think I'm getting a steal: Getting primo seats in a beautiful park and I don't have to fight anybody.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -1). Lost their only game this week, a 16-15 OT loss at Washington that should cement third place in the National Lacrosse League Western Conference playoffs. They currently stand at 6-8, and I don't remember them ever having an above-.500 record. Tonight they host Philadelphia in a special cancer charity game.
#-Infinity: Wild and Timberwolves (Last Week, respectively: -4, -5). For the third straight year, both teams end their seasons at the same time: Sucking at the end of the regular season. I would like to note that the Mild at least managed to win their last game against The Team That Was Stolen From Us, thereby eliminated them from the playoffs. That would've been fun to cheer and throw middle fingers over. They actually finished the season winning the two games this screening week. But they themselves are missing for the third consecutive postseason. The Woofs, meanwhile, lost their three games this week, and finished with a 15-game losing streak and a 17-65 record, the worst in the NBA.
So the Wild fired Head Coach Todd Richards, but the Timberwolves have not or will not shitcan Kurt Rambis. The current state and trajectory of both franchises are the same; shouldn't the fate of both coaches be the same, too? I still think two years is too small of a period to evaluate the competence of a coach, and the Wild still need to shed some shitty contracts that charter General Manager Doug Risebrough committed this club to. But if Richards goes, so should go Rambis. If the Mild want to take on a reputation of being a knee-jerk club that panics when they see empty seats in their arena, the Woofie Dogs should be firing everybody connected to the club.
But UMD was the only team to leave the Xcel Energy Center, St. Paul, and the weekend with something to cheer about. With a goal 3 1/2 minutes into sudden death overtime, the Bulldogs defeated the Wolverines, 3-2, to win its first-ever championship. I've always thought Minnesota-Duluth had a good hockey program, so I was shocked to learn last week that they hadn't popped that title cherry yet. But with physicality and relentlessness, they did. I still hate the school because they always seem to have the U.'s number; however, I feel good for all the Bulldog fans I sat with, smiled back to, and high-fived during and after the game. Gosh, it must feel good to be a fan of a winner.
Things are shitty in the State of Minnesota sports-wise, but there is an oasis of joy on the shores of Lake Superior. Last year the women's hockey team won the national championship (at Ridder Arena; I was there and am blessed to have witnessed a triple-overtime thriller against Cornell), and in December the UMD football team won the Division II championship. What is the Minnesota-Duluth athletic department doing that the Minnesota-Twin Cities AD not doing?
#-1: Lynx (Re-Entry!). When you pick first in the draft and there are no-doubt players to be selected, it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Thank Buddha the Jynx didn't do anything stupid -- they just picked the consensus top player in women's college basketball and a game-changing Forward, Maya Moore, with the top pick in the WNBA Draft on Monday. Moore may be the female basketball player in recent history: four-time All-American, three-time winner of the Wade Trophy (probably best women's college basketball player), and two -time champion at UConn. Becoming a member of the Lynx will be like jumping from saddle to saddle while both horses are galloping at full speed.
Moore, along with the team's other first-round pick, F Amber Harris out of Xavier, gives the Lynx, like, 20 first-round draft picks on their roster. Like I've said before, with so much goddamn talent they've accumulated by awful losing, now they can't lose. One of those first-round picks was one also taken first overall by the Jinx: Seimone Augustus. She has been the focal point of the team since being drafted by them in 2006. But lack of winning and injuries have made me question how long we can continue keeping her around. She seems like a nice woman, and when healthy she can ball like few others. But the Lynx are rebuilding, again, and if they have Moore (along with, like, 15 other post players), isn't it time to think about trading Augustus -- say, to Atlanta, or even Tulsa (which is much closer to her Baton Rouge, La. home)? It'd loosen up the Lynx's roster and give Augustus a fresh start away from so much bad karma here. I think it should happen, and I think people in the front office are thinking about it more than they let on.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). A 1-5 week. Right now their record stands at 4-9. And now Joe Mauer is being looked over for ... what is it called? Bilateral leg weakness?? He can't stand up on his two feet anymore??? Horrific. (Well, now anymore; now they're saying it's just a virus and not an indication of any long-term health issues ... or so they would have us believe.)
But can Joltin' Joe pitch in relief? Thursday's 10-inning come-from-ahead loss to the Bay Rays in Tampa, when they got the lead in the top of the inning, is the "highlight" of a 4-9 start, the worst in Ron Gardenhire's coaching career. All four victories, the last being a 4-3 decision over Kansas City back on Tuesday, are by a single run. And they still have yet to score more than five runs a game. I guess a more salient question should be, Can Joltin' Joe hit? He hasn't yet; Mauer's got a .289 On-Base Percentage and a .265 Slugging Percentage.
This feels like a situation where a shock to the system -- like trading a pitcher in the rotation for some bullpen help so Kyle Gibson can join the big league team -- is in order. We'll see. They finish up in Tampa, start a four-game set in Baltimore and a stadium I still want to see, Camden Yards, then begin a three-game set against Cleveland at Target Friday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). This team will not make the NCAA Tournament. A 1-3 week, accentuated by a three-game road sweep at Michigan St. and a loss in Siebert to fucking St. Thomas, for God's sake. They won their series opener against Northwestern in Target Friday, averting a complete wash-out screening week.
This week they finish their series against the Wildcats, host South Dakota St. at Siebert Wednesday, then begin a trio at Indiana Friday. After I get done with this WMNSS, I will be going to Target Field to watch the Gopher game this afternoon. It's overcast with temperatures in the forties. I doubt this is what the Twins were thinking about when they were trying to convince us taxpayers to make a stadium for them. But it's ours, it's here, and it is outdoor baseball in a fantastic ballpark without the crowds.
I doubt there's going to be more than 3,000 people there this afternoon. Why aren't more baseball fans coming out to see this game, besides the weather? You can't enjoy this $545 million edifice without the crowds -- without Twins fans? I think I'm getting a steal: Getting primo seats in a beautiful park and I don't have to fight anybody.
#-4: Swarm (Last Week: -1). Lost their only game this week, a 16-15 OT loss at Washington that should cement third place in the National Lacrosse League Western Conference playoffs. They currently stand at 6-8, and I don't remember them ever having an above-.500 record. Tonight they host Philadelphia in a special cancer charity game.
#-Infinity: Wild and Timberwolves (Last Week, respectively: -4, -5). For the third straight year, both teams end their seasons at the same time: Sucking at the end of the regular season. I would like to note that the Mild at least managed to win their last game against The Team That Was Stolen From Us, thereby eliminated them from the playoffs. That would've been fun to cheer and throw middle fingers over. They actually finished the season winning the two games this screening week. But they themselves are missing for the third consecutive postseason. The Woofs, meanwhile, lost their three games this week, and finished with a 15-game losing streak and a 17-65 record, the worst in the NBA.
So the Wild fired Head Coach Todd Richards, but the Timberwolves have not or will not shitcan Kurt Rambis. The current state and trajectory of both franchises are the same; shouldn't the fate of both coaches be the same, too? I still think two years is too small of a period to evaluate the competence of a coach, and the Wild still need to shed some shitty contracts that charter General Manager Doug Risebrough committed this club to. But if Richards goes, so should go Rambis. If the Mild want to take on a reputation of being a knee-jerk club that panics when they see empty seats in their arena, the Woofie Dogs should be firing everybody connected to the club.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Another way this new job is affecting me: No time to blog. It's just four hours, but it'll be twelve soon, and right now I still don't have the time to set aside for WAF. Plus, this time of the year is crazy with taxes, which I still have yet to complete. No time for writing, let alone blogging, is kind of upsetting. I have things I want to write about, but I have to push them back, and then I'll forget. I hate that. Instead, I'm reduced to writing this shit post for the day. Then I have to rest before going to work, then this burlesque show featuring a stripper who may not be talking to me anymore. Wish me fucking luck.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Bad Driver: TU??? (MN Critical Habitat)
Why in the fuck were you beeping me down University today, asshole? Did you really think your big truck was going to be sideswiped by my sedan? I am just getting by your fat ass and I have the lane all by myself in front of me, and you honk your fucking horn while I blow by? You think you own both lanes, or do you not think anybody had the right to pass you, you son-of-a-bitch?
I hoped I had dusted you. Unfortunately, you caught up and passed me on a red light. Thank God I wasn't blocked again, because I wanted to smoke past you just to piss you off. And you had the goddamn balls to honk your horn again. The hell? Really? You that hypersensitive to people who have shit to do? Or are you just fucking with me (as well as with another car to whom you laid into your horn while he drove past your slow ass)? Fucking idiot. If I had known you were going to let your bullying presence be known while I kicked your ass down 47, I would've remembered your entire special license plate, you motherfuck.
I hoped I had dusted you. Unfortunately, you caught up and passed me on a red light. Thank God I wasn't blocked again, because I wanted to smoke past you just to piss you off. And you had the goddamn balls to honk your horn again. The hell? Really? You that hypersensitive to people who have shit to do? Or are you just fucking with me (as well as with another car to whom you laid into your horn while he drove past your slow ass)? Fucking idiot. If I had known you were going to let your bullying presence be known while I kicked your ass down 47, I would've remembered your entire special license plate, you motherfuck.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Initial Thoughts On My New Job
- My new job is ... well, it is. Cannot divulge details; I have a $900 credit card bill and a trip to Tuscany that's setting me back $1,200, and I need to keep this job for as long as it goes. But this is still traditional employment, with a setting, expectations to be civil, co-workers and, uh, rules. And it gets old. Sorry, maybe I should get along a little more, but I find working in general to be boring. Maybe I'm not cut out for the old 9-to-5. Maybe I should be a writer.
- I spend my evenings staring at a computer. Eye strain, big-time. If this stretches to an all-day project, where I could be going up to a dozen hours looking at a screen, I might be in big trouble. Then again, I have bills to pay, so I have to suck it up.
- The other thing that's wearing on me now is the fact that I have the same problem I'm looking at time and time again. At first I thought it'd be cool because it'd make things easier; I only have to worry about this certain range of solutions, which would lessen my aggravation of certain answers coming from out of the blue. But now I'm deathly bored of seeing the same responses, right and wrong. I feel my brain shutting down about an hour into my shift. I have to talk to myself or space out to continue my night.
- I was warned during my interview that the main requirement for this job -- besides showing up -- is taking criticism. I said I could take it, even though I really can't. But I didn't get any "critiques" in my week-and-a-half working there ... till tonight, when I was ... um ... lectured/condescended to/maybe just made aware of a discrepancy. I hid it well -- played it off as a mistake, how could I have done that? -- but inside I crumbled. The rest of the evening I was thinking to myself, "Well, that's it. If I can't do my job to the best of my abilities, I might as well be fired!" The paranoid part of me thinks I'm now on probation by my supervisors. I very well could be. See, this is why I'm a writer: No one can say you're doing a bad job.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Shit, I Wanna Tittyfuck Nicky Whalen!
Saw Hall Pass a couple weeks ago. Not a fan of the Farrelly Brothers -- never seen There's Something About Mary and I don't have a hunkering to see it -- and I thought they're passé now that guys like Judd Apatow and Todd Phillips push gross humor down its own untrodden paths. But Hall Pass had two things that appealed to me: Jason Sudeikis, the very relatable straight man on Saturday Night Live; a clip I saw when Christina Applegate (I remember fantasizing about her when she was on Married With Children; not to say she's haggard now, but you can see she definitely has aged a lot to MILF status) was on a late-night talk show (Leno I think) and Jenna Fischer (plain, but she's got big tits under all those clothes that she wears; if she ever gets dolled up, your pants are gonna tighten); and the hot babe and object of desire in the move, Nicky Whalen.
Nicky Whalen is an Australian actress and model. She's also hella hot, as these images can attest. When I heard that this girl I never heard of gets naked near the end of the movie, that sold it. I didn't care how good it was (verdict: It was good; underestimated how serious it was going to be, and even though it was a tad slow and not funny at times -- and I don't appreciate the penises -- I found it to be a good adult comedy), if it had a hot girl getting naked, I'm in!
And it was great. Not only were her breasts worth the wait, but the build-up to the point where she exposes her mammaries was the perfect execution of anticipation. Her flinging out her titties was the third-act, and thus primary, conflict in Hall Pass.
We see her at the beginning of the movie as a barista -- a hot barista named Leigh, wearing a tight shirt and tight jeans and sporting a sexy, easy Australian accent and a beautiful smile. Both characters, but in particular Rick, portrayed by Owen Wilson, lusts after her, and obviously all straight males in the audience do the same thing. He starts flirting with her, and she starts making conversation back, and instead of ruining the placid and perfect image we have of Whelan as a really hot chick, getting to know her character makes her even more attractive.
Leigh suggests to Rick that if he wants to work out, he should do so at the same place she goes to so she can get money. So when he goes to the gym, she shows up -- now wearing workout wear, namely an unzipped sweatshirt, tight yoga pants, and a bare midriff workout top, showing off her tight tummy! The slow unpeeling of the babe's clothes continues, and is a marked step up from the more intimate information we know of her character. And on top of that, in this scene she reveals that she likes to drink after exercising. She's the perfect guy's girl!
Later in the film he bumps into her at a nightclub. They then go to his friend's house, which is also a party. They have a little conversation where he blurts out that his wife gave him a "hall pass" where he can fuck anybody without consequences to the marriage. She says she just wants to try new things. "Like sleeping with a married man?" Rick says under his breath.
Instead of getting all freaked out or nodding slightly but getting away from him after that comment, Leigh just lets out a quick laugh and then says, "Let's go somewhere a little quieter." And I and all the other guys watching the movie go, "YES!!!!!!!!!!"
There's a little plot where she's sidetracked by the guy she works with, who also happened to be someone she fucked. Thinking he's lost his chance, he just goes around his friend's house contemplating. But then she finds him. All this time she's wearing a great-looking sundress. We soon find out that she does the appropriate thing when wearing a sundress: Not wear anything underneath:
nicky-whelan-hall-pass-topless by EgotasticMedia
Whelan's tits are kind of weird; they're more horizontal than vertical, like a pancake. Oh, who cares, I jerked off to her easily that night!
And thank god New Line Cinema and Warner Brothers haven't forced this pirated video down from the Internet!!!
Nicky Whalen is an Australian actress and model. She's also hella hot, as these images can attest. When I heard that this girl I never heard of gets naked near the end of the movie, that sold it. I didn't care how good it was (verdict: It was good; underestimated how serious it was going to be, and even though it was a tad slow and not funny at times -- and I don't appreciate the penises -- I found it to be a good adult comedy), if it had a hot girl getting naked, I'm in!
And it was great. Not only were her breasts worth the wait, but the build-up to the point where she exposes her mammaries was the perfect execution of anticipation. Her flinging out her titties was the third-act, and thus primary, conflict in Hall Pass.
We see her at the beginning of the movie as a barista -- a hot barista named Leigh, wearing a tight shirt and tight jeans and sporting a sexy, easy Australian accent and a beautiful smile. Both characters, but in particular Rick, portrayed by Owen Wilson, lusts after her, and obviously all straight males in the audience do the same thing. He starts flirting with her, and she starts making conversation back, and instead of ruining the placid and perfect image we have of Whelan as a really hot chick, getting to know her character makes her even more attractive.
Leigh suggests to Rick that if he wants to work out, he should do so at the same place she goes to so she can get money. So when he goes to the gym, she shows up -- now wearing workout wear, namely an unzipped sweatshirt, tight yoga pants, and a bare midriff workout top, showing off her tight tummy! The slow unpeeling of the babe's clothes continues, and is a marked step up from the more intimate information we know of her character. And on top of that, in this scene she reveals that she likes to drink after exercising. She's the perfect guy's girl!
Later in the film he bumps into her at a nightclub. They then go to his friend's house, which is also a party. They have a little conversation where he blurts out that his wife gave him a "hall pass" where he can fuck anybody without consequences to the marriage. She says she just wants to try new things. "Like sleeping with a married man?" Rick says under his breath.
Instead of getting all freaked out or nodding slightly but getting away from him after that comment, Leigh just lets out a quick laugh and then says, "Let's go somewhere a little quieter." And I and all the other guys watching the movie go, "YES!!!!!!!!!!"
There's a little plot where she's sidetracked by the guy she works with, who also happened to be someone she fucked. Thinking he's lost his chance, he just goes around his friend's house contemplating. But then she finds him. All this time she's wearing a great-looking sundress. We soon find out that she does the appropriate thing when wearing a sundress: Not wear anything underneath:
nicky-whelan-hall-pass-topless by EgotasticMedia
Whelan's tits are kind of weird; they're more horizontal than vertical, like a pancake. Oh, who cares, I jerked off to her easily that night!
And thank god New Line Cinema and Warner Brothers haven't forced this pirated video down from the Internet!!!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Came home around 1:30 tonight. My excuse is I was covering the NCAA men's ice hockey championship (won, by the way, by Minnesota-Duluth, in overtime, over Michigan, 3-2). I just wanted to stay out.
With me working evenings, I haven't spoken much to my 'Rents. Which I think is a good thing. But as I was in the bathroom taking a shit, I heard My Fucking Father stomp his feet while going up the stairs and then throw things around in the kitchen. I've never heard him sounds so brattily, but he is the kind of guy who'll repress things and passive-aggressively get across his displeasure and wounded ego without coming out and saying it.
What's going to happen tomorrow? If something goes down, I'll let y'all know.
With me working evenings, I haven't spoken much to my 'Rents. Which I think is a good thing. But as I was in the bathroom taking a shit, I heard My Fucking Father stomp his feet while going up the stairs and then throw things around in the kitchen. I've never heard him sounds so brattily, but he is the kind of guy who'll repress things and passive-aggressively get across his displeasure and wounded ego without coming out and saying it.
What's going to happen tomorrow? If something goes down, I'll let y'all know.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Swarm (Last Week: -3). Only one game, but it was an important one: A win at home against Calgary; by an ass-kicking score of 13-8; in a game televised on free TV; and, most importantly, that clinched a playoff spot. (They're 6-7, but it helps that they're 2 1/2 games in front of the fourth-place team and that only the last-place team doesn't make the playoffs.) I had to be reminded that this game was on television because I was too wrapped up in the men's basketball tournament game that just got done. Thanks to KSTP's Chris Long for tweeting it between regional final games that evening.
The Swarm is four games out of first (which are, ironically enough, the Calgary Roughnecks), so the more realistic fight is for second place. And they will meet that team, the Washington Stealth, in Washington tonight (Saturday night). They're only a half-game behind (the Stealth have played one more game), but the Swarm have already won the season series and will go for the sweep. And since 1st and 4th are so far away from these two teams, they're going to meet in the playoffs; this game should decide who gets to host the game. Washington leads Major League Lacrosse in goals per game, total goals, and power play. Also, the top three scorers in NLL will be in this match. I didn't know that the top goal-scorer in the league is the Swarm's own Ryan Benesch. The Forward should get some Most Valuable Player consideration.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -4). They went .500 this week (3-3), but it seems like they lost all six games. That's probably because they kept losing to the Yankees again, even though they actually did win one game in the Bronx ... even though they had to come back for that win. In fact, I spy with my little eye that all three wins (the only three wins they have so far) are all by one run. The number of runs scored, in order: 1, 4, 3, 5, 3, and 2. For the longest time they were going to lose to Oakland in yesterday's (Friday's) home opener by constipation, but they managed to "rally" and win.
The big news, of course, is the loss of Second Baseman Tsuyoshi Nishioka. X-rays today showed that he has a broken bone in his lower left leg. That's actually good because it looked Thursday that he would be done for the year. I don't care what other people think, and even if I hear the good stories about him, to me, that slide by Nick Swisher looked fucking dirty. Yet another reason to hate the Yankees.
That and the offense are the current reasons to worry about this team, which right now is tied with Detroit for last place in the A.L. Central. Fans are still entranced by the late-season runs this team has pulled off in the last decade. But one of these years that magic will disappear. This might be the year the team falls short of expectations. The law of averages demand a disappointment. They finish their series against the Athletics this weekend, then go through the annual weirdo, early-season two-game series at home against Kansas City, then begin a four-game set at Tampa Thursday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). 1-2 for the week. Thank God for doubleheaders; it always seems as if the two teams split those, and the back game was the one the Gophers won, giving them the series win against Purdue. They began their series at Michigan St. with a 4-2 loss last (Friday) night.
They were supposed to play Augsburg Tuesday at Siebert Field, but it became the fifth game in the team's season that was canceled. Why? They themselves had a doubleheader scheduled last Saturday against another local team, Macalester. But it was rained out, and for some reason they decided to play that two-fer on Tuesday. Since the game against the U.'s a non-conference contest, the games against the Scots took precedence for the Augies. They couldn't play those games Monday, or Wednesday?
This week they finish up in East Lansing, play St. Thomas at Siebert Wednesday, then begin a three-game series against Northwestern at Target. God, I should go to one of those games soon. And God, what a great idea for the Gophers and Twins to share that beautifulexpensive stadium.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -2). A 1-3 week. That first loss, to Tampa Bay on Saturday (at home, by the way), was the one that officially eliminated the Mild from the playoffs. Of course, that eight-game losing streak late last month unofficially eliminated this fucking team. God, I miss the North Stars. They really weren't any better than the Wild, but ... well, I wore my North Stars jersey Thursday night to the Frozen Four national semifinals, and I got sentimental and wistful. They may suck, but they're my team, and I would be so happy to have them back. Fucking Dallas.
Where am I? Oh yeah, one more game. Sunday -- Fan Appreciation Day! Let's see how many fans show up to feel appreciated by this lazy, underachieving team! -- against ... The Team That Was Stolen From Us.
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). You know, for all the bullshit the Woofie Dogs have taken this state through, there was one indignity we didn't have to face: We aren't the worst team in the National Basketball Association. Not as long as the Cleveland Cavaliers are around to scrape the bottom.
No more. With a defeat at the hands of Phoenix, their third this screening week and their twelth in a row, they are now tied with the LeBron-less Cavs as the worst team in the league, with a record of 17-62. They're lucky they already have won two more games than last year.
Kevin Love should probably be shut down for the rest of the year. I mean, who gives a fuck? I'm so glad I now work evenings; I won't be tempted to go watch this abortion at Target Center for free.
They end the season, mercifully, this week: at Denver, at Phoenix, then finally home to Houston Wednesday.
The Swarm is four games out of first (which are, ironically enough, the Calgary Roughnecks), so the more realistic fight is for second place. And they will meet that team, the Washington Stealth, in Washington tonight (Saturday night). They're only a half-game behind (the Stealth have played one more game), but the Swarm have already won the season series and will go for the sweep. And since 1st and 4th are so far away from these two teams, they're going to meet in the playoffs; this game should decide who gets to host the game. Washington leads Major League Lacrosse in goals per game, total goals, and power play. Also, the top three scorers in NLL will be in this match. I didn't know that the top goal-scorer in the league is the Swarm's own Ryan Benesch. The Forward should get some Most Valuable Player consideration.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -4). They went .500 this week (3-3), but it seems like they lost all six games. That's probably because they kept losing to the Yankees again, even though they actually did win one game in the Bronx ... even though they had to come back for that win. In fact, I spy with my little eye that all three wins (the only three wins they have so far) are all by one run. The number of runs scored, in order: 1, 4, 3, 5, 3, and 2. For the longest time they were going to lose to Oakland in yesterday's (Friday's) home opener by constipation, but they managed to "rally" and win.
The big news, of course, is the loss of Second Baseman Tsuyoshi Nishioka. X-rays today showed that he has a broken bone in his lower left leg. That's actually good because it looked Thursday that he would be done for the year. I don't care what other people think, and even if I hear the good stories about him, to me, that slide by Nick Swisher looked fucking dirty. Yet another reason to hate the Yankees.
That and the offense are the current reasons to worry about this team, which right now is tied with Detroit for last place in the A.L. Central. Fans are still entranced by the late-season runs this team has pulled off in the last decade. But one of these years that magic will disappear. This might be the year the team falls short of expectations. The law of averages demand a disappointment. They finish their series against the Athletics this weekend, then go through the annual weirdo, early-season two-game series at home against Kansas City, then begin a four-game set at Tampa Thursday.
#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -1). 1-2 for the week. Thank God for doubleheaders; it always seems as if the two teams split those, and the back game was the one the Gophers won, giving them the series win against Purdue. They began their series at Michigan St. with a 4-2 loss last (Friday) night.
They were supposed to play Augsburg Tuesday at Siebert Field, but it became the fifth game in the team's season that was canceled. Why? They themselves had a doubleheader scheduled last Saturday against another local team, Macalester. But it was rained out, and for some reason they decided to play that two-fer on Tuesday. Since the game against the U.'s a non-conference contest, the games against the Scots took precedence for the Augies. They couldn't play those games Monday, or Wednesday?
This week they finish up in East Lansing, play St. Thomas at Siebert Wednesday, then begin a three-game series against Northwestern at Target. God, I should go to one of those games soon. And God, what a great idea for the Gophers and Twins to share that beautiful
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -2). A 1-3 week. That first loss, to Tampa Bay on Saturday (at home, by the way), was the one that officially eliminated the Mild from the playoffs. Of course, that eight-game losing streak late last month unofficially eliminated this fucking team. God, I miss the North Stars. They really weren't any better than the Wild, but ... well, I wore my North Stars jersey Thursday night to the Frozen Four national semifinals, and I got sentimental and wistful. They may suck, but they're my team, and I would be so happy to have them back. Fucking Dallas.
Where am I? Oh yeah, one more game. Sunday -- Fan Appreciation Day! Let's see how many fans show up to feel appreciated by this lazy, underachieving team! -- against ... The Team That Was Stolen From Us.
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). You know, for all the bullshit the Woofie Dogs have taken this state through, there was one indignity we didn't have to face: We aren't the worst team in the National Basketball Association. Not as long as the Cleveland Cavaliers are around to scrape the bottom.
No more. With a defeat at the hands of Phoenix, their third this screening week and their twelth in a row, they are now tied with the LeBron-less Cavs as the worst team in the league, with a record of 17-62. They're lucky they already have won two more games than last year.
Kevin Love should probably be shut down for the rest of the year. I mean, who gives a fuck? I'm so glad I now work evenings; I won't be tempted to go watch this abortion at Target Center for free.
They end the season, mercifully, this week: at Denver, at Phoenix, then finally home to Houston Wednesday.
Friday, April 8, 2011
I have to start writing about other things besides the Blogger failure to space between paragraphs.
Should've wrote something late night last night, but I was at the Frozen Four last night. Great games, excellent atmosphere, I was so boisterous that I was completely tuckered out when I got home. First time in a long time I just bagged it relatively early in the night. After I got home, I immediately went downstairs, unplugged the modem, then hit the bed at 1.
Was worried about how much money I had to pay for tickets. Had to settle for $125 for the semifinals. After North Dakota got upset in the late game, I managed to ask for a ticket outside the X right in front of a family of four whose father wanted to unload a ticket. The daughter looked at me and said, "Dad. ..." Told him I'm not a scalper; father looked like he wanted to get as much money as he can, be done with it, and leave for Grand Forks. I said $40; he asked for $50; I said done. Thanked him, and thanked the daughter for spotting me.
So, $175 for the three games of the men's top-flight college ice hockey championship. Fair? I think that's fair.
Should've wrote something late night last night, but I was at the Frozen Four last night. Great games, excellent atmosphere, I was so boisterous that I was completely tuckered out when I got home. First time in a long time I just bagged it relatively early in the night. After I got home, I immediately went downstairs, unplugged the modem, then hit the bed at 1.
Was worried about how much money I had to pay for tickets. Had to settle for $125 for the semifinals. After North Dakota got upset in the late game, I managed to ask for a ticket outside the X right in front of a family of four whose father wanted to unload a ticket. The daughter looked at me and said, "Dad. ..." Told him I'm not a scalper; father looked like he wanted to get as much money as he can, be done with it, and leave for Grand Forks. I said $40; he asked for $50; I said done. Thanked him, and thanked the daughter for spotting me.
So, $175 for the three games of the men's top-flight college ice hockey championship. Fair? I think that's fair.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
OK, I'm going to try this one more time. Just spaced. One more time and save and ... It's good. Now, I'll do it again and see if it works this time, goddammit. ... No. Fuck this. I really don't want to blog about anything substantial until this formatting bullshit is fixed, but I don't think it will, and I can't just bitch about this snafu every day. I've got that hot chick from Hall Pass I need to talk about. Fuck this.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Let's try this again. See if it works. Publish and View... OK, so far so good. But what happens if I edit and re-publish? Let's see... And, it loses all its paragraph breaks. It's still not fixed. Fuck this. One more time. I heard on the board that you just have to add a
.
Hmm, it might work.
Will it work again?
Let's see.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
He hadn't done it in a long time, so I thought I was free, and with my new job starting I completely forgot, but goddamn, My Fucking Father caught me with my guard down an hour ago. He knocked outside my room calling for me. What the fuck was he doing here??
No way could I act like I was up. I was trying to sleep after Grandmother knocked on my door a minute or two. It was weird. I was having a nightmare that someone was knocking on my door, and then I wake up and I heard that she was actually knocking on my door. She didn't call for me. So I give her her shot and I try to go back asleep, which eventually I was able to do ... until My Fucking Father.
He gave me a check Mother said she would bring home tomorrow, a check, alongwith one downstairs, I need to cash. He also wanted to know if I still had the pictures of a pot he wanted me to snap a few months ago because he found yet another auction website he wanted me to send them to. I was still groggy and partially embarassed that I got caught. I was still thinking in my head excuses of how he caught me sleeping. It was no use.
I was thisclose to just putting on my clothes and leaving. I mean, what the fuck was he doing home? He was checking up on me, that's what. He's upset that I'm working evenings now, for the time being. I have no goddamn clue why he'd be upset, but whenever I, my brother or my sister makes a choice, he hates it. And this is his usual passive-aggressive bullshit way of checking up on me. Thank God he left.
I phoned Mother to make sure she knew about the check My Fucking Father gave me. That was a fucking mistake. I was bitching to her about he just stormed into the house and up the stairs to my room. And she goes, "So he woke you?" and I went, "Yeah, he woke me up. ..." Oh, shit, I thought, I don't think I should be admitted to her that I was asleep at a quarter to 11. Now that My Fucking Father's going back to the store, she'll spill the bills to him that he really did wake me. She always rats on me. Goddamn tattletale, don't care if they're married.
Guess I should go to the bank now.
No way could I act like I was up. I was trying to sleep after Grandmother knocked on my door a minute or two. It was weird. I was having a nightmare that someone was knocking on my door, and then I wake up and I heard that she was actually knocking on my door. She didn't call for me. So I give her her shot and I try to go back asleep, which eventually I was able to do ... until My Fucking Father.
He gave me a check Mother said she would bring home tomorrow, a check, alongwith one downstairs, I need to cash. He also wanted to know if I still had the pictures of a pot he wanted me to snap a few months ago because he found yet another auction website he wanted me to send them to. I was still groggy and partially embarassed that I got caught. I was still thinking in my head excuses of how he caught me sleeping. It was no use.
I was thisclose to just putting on my clothes and leaving. I mean, what the fuck was he doing home? He was checking up on me, that's what. He's upset that I'm working evenings now, for the time being. I have no goddamn clue why he'd be upset, but whenever I, my brother or my sister makes a choice, he hates it. And this is his usual passive-aggressive bullshit way of checking up on me. Thank God he left.
I phoned Mother to make sure she knew about the check My Fucking Father gave me. That was a fucking mistake. I was bitching to her about he just stormed into the house and up the stairs to my room. And she goes, "So he woke you?" and I went, "Yeah, he woke me up. ..." Oh, shit, I thought, I don't think I should be admitted to her that I was asleep at a quarter to 11. Now that My Fucking Father's going back to the store, she'll spill the bills to him that he really did wake me. She always rats on me. Goddamn tattletale, don't care if they're married.
Guess I should go to the bank now.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Start my new job tonight. Very, very nervous. What happens if I don't like the work? What happens if I don't like the people I work with? What happens if they don't like me? Wish me luck.
Meanwhile, has Blogger fixed the spacing/paragraph thing yet? Whatever. I don't think I need to go back and edit this, so it should be good, but if not, well, fuck it.
Meanwhile, has Blogger fixed the spacing/paragraph thing yet? Whatever. I don't think I need to go back and edit this, so it should be good, but if not, well, fuck it.
Sorry guys, but I'm seriously not going to blog about anything else until this goddamn spacing problem's worked out. Let's try this again. Spaces inbetween sentences. Will it work? Give me a second. ... Works initially, but how about when I-redit? Let me try it now. ... Nope, stopped working. This is fucked up, and it's pissing me off. ...
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Shit, I apologize for the last post, my WMNSS. I don't know what happened to it. Late last night I wanted to make some edits, then all of a sudden it wouldn't put my paragraph breaks in. Does it work, is Blogger fucking up, or has someone hijacked my site? Let me see if I can put some graphs in. Did it work? I'm going back and putting graph breaks in, but when I republish, they're gone. Is it working again? No, it's not! How 'bout now?
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher baseball (Last Week: No Rank due to protest of every team losing). Just between you and me, I kind of wanted every team in this week's WMNSS to lose every single game for a second week in a row because that would mean another short post. But goddammit, somebody had to win. And the first was the Gopher Nine, which ended the metro area's win drought by Sunday's 9-4 win over Cal Poly. The Gophers were the last local team to win, on the 17th. And if you don't count them, by the way, the last Minnesota team to have won before this screening was the Timberwolves on the 11th. The Gophs followed that up with a 9-5 win over Purdue yesterday (Friday) afternoon to open up Big Ten play at their temporary home, Target Field. My God, what a hell of a temporary home -- a major league ballpark? John Anderson, if the Metrodome doesn't get fixed in time, or if they decide to tear it down for a new football stadium, saying you'll be playing in a two-year-old, state-of-the-art baseball field would be a hell of a recruiting tool! This week they'll play a doubleheader to finish off their three-game series against the Boilermakers today (Saturday), then play a midweek game against Augsburg at Siebert Field, then start a three-game set Friday at Michigan St. One other thing to note: The y were supposed to play last Saturday at Cal Poly, but it was rained out. They played Friday and Sunday, but not the middle game. That cancellation was the fifth one in the past two weeks for the team. The ... magic of baseball? #-2: Wild (Last Week: No Rank due to protest of every team losing). A loss to St. Louis at home last Saturday made it eight goddamn losses in a row. They've won two since, but obviously it's too fucking late. They're now ... oh, it doesn't matter where they are in the Western Conference standings, they're not making the playoffs. Read a story by the great Michael Russo of the Star Tribune that Todd Richards probably will not survive as Head Coach of the Mild. The team was poised for a solid run into the postseason, Russo says, but that eight-game skid will mean someone's head will roll. Now, I totally am pissed off as hell over this collapse. I want someone to pay. But if I step back, I can't believe that Richards should be the fall guy. Russo notes that General Manager Chuck Fletcher is safe, for now. I like that. He's only in his second year, and he needs time to implement his scouting philosophy. He inherited a lot of bad contracts, Russo says. Well, Richards has been left to coach those bad contracts. If the players suck, there's isn't a whole hell of a lot he can do to turn them into a competent team. And a month ago they still were a playoff squad. Isn't it the players who are at fault? But the main reason I don't think Richards should be shitcanned is because he's only in his second year. I think three years coaching (or general managing, for that matter) has to be the minimum length of time to figure out if he should stay. Ex-ESPN baseball analyst Joe Morgan once said there are only two good reasons to fire a coach: He either lost control of the lockerroom or he cannot get the best out of his players. I don't think you can determine the latter after less than two years, and even though a losing streak has to be indicative of some coach-player disconnect, I don't see the former. Think about the message you're sending if you send Richards away after only two years. This is hockey, where Head Coaches step in the middle of playoff chases all the time and are frequently successful, maybe lead their team to the Stanley Cup Final. Shit, Lou Lamoriello puts Coaches through a turnstyle, sending them packing even when the New Jersey Devils are a playoff team. So maybe stability is overrated in the NHL. But I don't think that's the case here, especially because there needs to be at least two more years to clear out the dead weight. Fire Richards now, the team still isn't better, and now you've taken on the reputation that the franchise is permanently in a state of flux. The Wild shouldn't want that. Mercifully there are only five games left in the season. This week: Vs. Tampa Bay, then at Detroit and Vancouver. #-3: Swarm (Last Week: No Rank due to protest of every team losing). Lost to Buffalo and at Calgary, and now they have a three-game losing streak. This team always seems to fade down the stretch. They once were atop the Western Conference standings; now they sit in third, the two teams in front of them recently clinching playoff spots. The only saving grace for the Smarm, and the only reason I'm putting these guys ahead of the Twinks, is that only the last-place team in each conference is eliminated from the playoffs, and right now this club is 2 1/2 games clear of Colorado. But you never know! They finish a home-and-home with the Roughnecks at the X tonight (Saturday night). If you can't make it to the game, you can watch it at home over free TV! That's one more game everybody can watch than the Twins -- see below. #-4: Twins (Re-Entry!). Fucking Christ. If last (Friday) night's 13-3 opening-season shit-kicking at Toronto is a sign of things to come, the comprehensive suckitude that has devoured the local sports scene since last year's MLB playoffs began is going to go for a full year. What the fuck? I predicted the Blue Jays would finish in last place in the A.L. East. Meanwhile, I thought the Twinks would win the Central again. The concussion to Justin Morneau, lingering fears over Joe Mauer getting hurt, and a brand-new bullpen are the major questions heading into this year. Otherwise, nothing has changed in the lineup, the rotation, or the bench staff for me to think they're in trouble, even if Chicago picked up Adam Dunn and Detroit got Victor Martinez. But now that we've seen them win the division with some regularity, we're now awaiting the next step: Winning a playoff series. The fans should take a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately attitude; nothing short of postseason success should be tolerated. If, on Friday's home opener, there's a loud to-do by the team for raising an "A.L. Central Division Champs" banner, they should be ashamed of themselves. And if there are fans giving that banner-raising a standing ovation, they should be ashamed of themselves, too. The team has responded to this slow discomfort of the team's failures by pumping up their revenue streams. One way to do that is to take all television broadcasts to cable. For the past few years I could see every single Sunday game on Channel 29, an over-the-air station. No more. Greedy pricks. The finish their opening-season series at Toronto, then make their annual too-early-in-the-season visit to the Yankees (which they will play for only two series once again -- when will MLB fucking understand these are two teams that deserve to play another series against each other?!), then finally have their home opener Friday afternoon against Oakland. #-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: No Rank due to protest of every team losing). Three more losses this week, all at home, all to the three best teams in the Eastern Conference. That's now a nine-game current losing streak. Got tickets to Wednesday's game versus the Bulls. Didn't expect to want to go, but then I realized: The Woofie Dogs could be playing this year's NBA champ! They didn't fail to disappoint. Everybody, in particular Derrick Rose and Luol Deng, made every shot from the floor. I think Chicago finished at, like, 55% from the field. That could just be them having one hell of a night. Or, it could be more evidence the Wolves suck on D. Mercifiully, this team only has six games remaining. This week: at Memphis, at New Jersey, home to Phoenix.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April Fool's Day, A Good Time To Change
Surprisingly on the ball today.
I've been doing things tonight that I've been putting off for a long time. It feels good. Well, not really. Most of these tasks involve money -- spending it. That's why I've been putting them off for a long time. However, things have come due, and I can't avoid paying two guys who run the March Madness brackets I'm a part of anymore. So one I paid via PayPal last night, the other I'm about to seal up a check for him in an envelope.
That has spurred me into taking care of some monetary donations I've wanted to do, but hadn't yet done so. Again, money was the big issue. Still is -- I really shouldn't be sending money away to charity because I have too little. But I promised that I would send money, and if I'm already sitting down and writing checks, I might as well do it for all of them.
Also, it's the first a da month, which is a good time to do some things. I'm going to take advantage of my free once-a-year credit report from one of the ratings agencies. I think I'm going to change my ringtone and alarm tone (from the T-Mobile jingle and "Flight of the Valkyries," respectively). And I just might scrutinize the leftover money from my HSA a little more.
Again, circumstances are forcing my hand. I'm on a three-year satellite radio plan that is about to automatically renew on Saturday. Even though the online player remains shit and everybody still has problems with the interface and getting it to work, I'm going to renew it, if on a shorter and cheaper plan. Can't live without it.
It also just so happens that my Certficiate of Deposit is maturing around this time. I need to take money out of it to pay for my credit card, which I think is currently at a grand, mostly due to car repairs. (By the way, I established a new rate for this CD about 18 months ago. I have made about $32. CD's suck.) And since I'm starting my new job on Monday -- more on that later -- I'm tying up loose ends when it comes to fun things to do. I have a free movie ticket that's been sitting on my desk right here next to me. Probably will go see Sucker Punch with it.
I have to think that my accruing expenses has to do with me finally getting off my ass and doing stuff. Either you are doing a bunch of things at once or you're doing nothing. And needing to pay my bills is finally forcing me to do things, which in turn compels me to do other things.
I've been doing things tonight that I've been putting off for a long time. It feels good. Well, not really. Most of these tasks involve money -- spending it. That's why I've been putting them off for a long time. However, things have come due, and I can't avoid paying two guys who run the March Madness brackets I'm a part of anymore. So one I paid via PayPal last night, the other I'm about to seal up a check for him in an envelope.
That has spurred me into taking care of some monetary donations I've wanted to do, but hadn't yet done so. Again, money was the big issue. Still is -- I really shouldn't be sending money away to charity because I have too little. But I promised that I would send money, and if I'm already sitting down and writing checks, I might as well do it for all of them.
Also, it's the first a da month, which is a good time to do some things. I'm going to take advantage of my free once-a-year credit report from one of the ratings agencies. I think I'm going to change my ringtone and alarm tone (from the T-Mobile jingle and "Flight of the Valkyries," respectively). And I just might scrutinize the leftover money from my HSA a little more.
Again, circumstances are forcing my hand. I'm on a three-year satellite radio plan that is about to automatically renew on Saturday. Even though the online player remains shit and everybody still has problems with the interface and getting it to work, I'm going to renew it, if on a shorter and cheaper plan. Can't live without it.
It also just so happens that my Certficiate of Deposit is maturing around this time. I need to take money out of it to pay for my credit card, which I think is currently at a grand, mostly due to car repairs. (By the way, I established a new rate for this CD about 18 months ago. I have made about $32. CD's suck.) And since I'm starting my new job on Monday -- more on that later -- I'm tying up loose ends when it comes to fun things to do. I have a free movie ticket that's been sitting on my desk right here next to me. Probably will go see Sucker Punch with it.
I have to think that my accruing expenses has to do with me finally getting off my ass and doing stuff. Either you are doing a bunch of things at once or you're doing nothing. And needing to pay my bills is finally forcing me to do things, which in turn compels me to do other things.
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