I Think The Store Closes Today

How do I know this. I don't, but these are three signs:

1. Earlier in the week, I don't know specifically when or under what circumstance, My Fucking Father told me the business license lapses at the end of the month.
2. Yesterday I was helping that old man purchase airline tickets on the Internet. (How does he not know how to do this now? And how come he needed my help when the only thing that that didn't allow the form to go through was not putting down a goddamn phone number?) So when I started inputting her credit card information, from said card that still bears the name of their family business, I needed to make sure to which billing address this had to go to. "The one at the store?" I asked. "No, the one at home," he replied, adding, "The Store no more."
3. As I was leaving for a night of getting a handjob at this party close-by (I might blog about someday, please give me space) I overheard Mother asking Father, "Have you called the Minnesota State Lottery yet?" I assume she means shutting them down.

I should go today, just in case it truly is The End. But I have to write first.

ETA: I had dreams that The Store sold the winning ticket for the $640 million MegaMillions mega-jackpot. That way, maybe The Store would remain open. Hey, I guy can dream, can't he? At the very least it'd be a hell of story: The Store getting all this attention for selling The Ticket one day before going out of business forever, going out in a blaze of glory. But it was not to be. The winning tickets were sold in Kansas, Illinois and Maryland. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to settle for it giving us a toehold in America.

The Songs Playing On The Radio On The Minute I Was Born

Hopefully this isn't TMI: March 17, 2012, at 2:17 p.m. (local radio station, artist, song):

• Kool 108: Eagles, "Heartache Tonight"
• Jack 104.1: REM, "Man on the Moon"
• 93X: Tool, "Ænema"
• Cities 97: 3 Doors Down, "Kryptonite"

Expenses Without Receipts

OK, let's see if I can fucking remember...

• On Friday, I went to Hooters to watch the tournament. But before I did that, I wanted to print out a coupon Hooters e-mailed me. But since the printer at home wasn't working at the time, I went to a library to do it. And it cost me: 10 cents.
• That night was Lovely Creatures. Cover, coffee and tips: $13.50.
• Saturday, which was my birthday, I treated myself to trips to the two non-cover stripclubs in town. The first one I was there just long enough to tip two chicks: $4.
• Then I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). Got coffee, gave tips, and decided to treat myself with a lapdance from Haley: $30.
• My Favorite Late-Night Coffeehouse, with tip: $5.25.
• Then, My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, with tip: $9.50.
• Sunday I decided to work off the pounds I put on eating at the only Chinese restaurant my parents deem fit to eat in. And of course afterwards I go to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place again. With tip: $14.50.
• Apparently after doing this new experiment where I have to eyedrops in my eyes twice a day, I went to Hooters -- and paid cash. With tip: $9.
• Tuesday I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition). Price for Coke, tips, and that nasty dance with *i***: $138.
• Bus to downtown and said stripclub, to and fro: $4.
• Wednesday I believe the only non-receipted thing I bought was a mocha from My Favorite Late-Night Coffeehouse, where I was doing my fantasy baseball auction. And for the first time ever, I bought something to eat there, namely an outrageously expensive cheesecake. With tip, all told: $8.25.

You know, I think I'm going to stop there. I have to think about where I've been since Thursday the 22nd and I don't think I should put it down here. Not that I'm embarrassed, I think I'll just blog mistaken expenses here.

The Following Week At The Same Party

(You know, getting a handjob really is the further thing from my mind. I'm still in shock that Grandmother was sent off to a nursing home today. But I cannot relentlessly blog about it or the desire to beat my head against a wall will be much stronger than it already is. So even though this is a very abrupt tonal shift, I have to talk about something good, though nasty, in my life, for my sanity.)

So it was the next Monday after some naked play with the host the previous week. I didn't plan on coming back, but she said it was her birthday, and after letting me poke my dick at her butt (no penetration), I felt obligated to come back.

Unfortunately because of the good weather, the party was more hectic. Fortunately, one of them was ***e*, someone whom I haven't seen in a while. She has become my go-to gal for dick play.

I started early; while everybody was getting/giving lapdances, ***e* and I were alone in the kitchen. With my back turned to the action up one flight, I took myself out while she was talking to me but looking away. I even took her arm and swept her arm across my pee-pee. She was shocked -- "not here!" -- but I couldn't stop.

We switched places with the rest of the partygoers a little later. We got one dance, clean, but goddamn, I couldn't stop. After our dance I stood up and whipped my main vein and begged/demanded she touch it. ***e* sighed, said I was about to get her in trouble (she has no idea even the host gets nasty!), and then gave me a quick squeeze. And I was happy as a little boy!!!

I wasn't done; I had to get down with the birthday girl!! Later in the night I got the living room/lapdance area all to myself and the host, *e**. Sadly, she did not feel comfortable letting me fingerbang her this time around. I also tried taking my dick out so she could play with it, or at least sit on it. But shortly after I did that, a guy went up the stairs to use the bathroom just down the hall. Partying like that was over.

What I did to get some play waited till after we were done with our one dance, aka my birthday gift to her (namely $20). With everyone down the stairs in the kitchen (including no one in the bathroom), I stood up and, making sure my back was turned to the kitchen to prevent the probably small possibility someone would just look up), I took out my pee-pee and showed it to *e**. Then I asked her to touch it -- very quietly, whispering in her ear, just in case there was a sudden lull in the conversation in the kitchen and my words could float down to their ears.

*e** paused for a second, then grabbed my flaccid shaft and then, best of all, slid her enclosed hand down my penis. Handjob, zowweee!!!

You know, I talked to her sister, who's also a stripper and dances at these parties on occasion. She overheard from one of her regulars that extras are now being done at her sister's new place, and in particular one guy took himself out in the LD area while in front of a dancer. Wouldn't it be ironic if it's her sister not only allowing but doing the extras!!!

I used to be lukewarm about this Monday-night party. Now I love to go. And I did then; I went back the following week!!

March 28, 2012: The Day Grandmother Was Thrown Out Of The House For Good

I had to go to work at 7:30. While I was pissing I heard rumblings from downstairs. For some reason My Fucking Father was up.

And then while I was leaving I saw the upstairs bathroom light on. Grandmother was up, too. Did she want a morning piss, or is it something more sinister?

I found out my answer when I came home from work, although my calls around lunchtime went unanswered for the second day in a row. When I walked up the stairs I saw Grandmother's longtime, beat-up dresser, the one that she shoved all her stuff in and put her stuff on, next to the piano. I gazed at her bedroom on my way to my room; it was lit up. Grandmother probably gave up and was starting to prepare for the eviction.

When I came out to check to see if My Fucking Father brought the insulin syringes, the ones I prepared last night, to the place where she'd be living, and the place where my bed is now, My Fucking Father broke the news: "Grandmother has moved out. She's living in her new place now."

I wonder if he told Grandmother. I wonder if she knew but didn't want to tell me. Or, I wonder if they went to the clinic, got the clean bill of health he wanted, then immediately went to St. Paul, where she dumped her with her things.

The bastards. My Fucking Father and My Fucking Mother. Grandmother deserved better than this. She helped raise them, for fuck's sake. She deserved to stay as long as we could take care of her. And she certainly didn't deserve to be placed way in the fuck in St. Paul, 20 miles and 30 minutes away from us and any of her friends. But, My Fucking Father said, she'll be close to my uncle, who now lives nearby. This is the uncle who has a stroke and is bedridden, by the way.

I am just numb. I should be angry and kill them both while we're having dinner, which is now. But right now, I am just fucking numb to the pain.

The Last Day Has Been Pushed Back, At Least Till Today

When I tried calling home to see how Grandmother was around lunchtime, she didn't pick up. Tried again after my lunch break/nap; still nothing. Either my parents took her to the nursing home this morning or she decided she didn't give a shit and was hanging out with her friends. If so, I thought, then good for her, saying "fuck you" to my 'Rents for throwing her into a home. Maybe she could just stay away and live life the way she wants.

When I came back at around 6 -- I actually was cut from work early, but I did not want to go back home so early, not these days -- I saw that Grandmother's bedroom light was on. So she didn't escape, but she wasn't taken, yet, either. I guess that's a good thing.

But there was a chance her being thrown out was pushed back a day. When she skipped out on Friday, My Fucking Father was supposed to take her to the clinic for a TB shot, which had to be inspected 48 hours later. He made plans to take her to the doctor's on Friday and Sunday, but with her running away, he made a new appointment for Monday morning, at a time when she could not get away from My Fucking Father.

The initial plan was for her to be placed in the home today. But if she got the shot on Monday, she would have to be examined for this TB shot on Wednesday -- today. Presumably she could go directly from the clinic to the home if she got an immediate OK.

So, that means that tonight was the last night Grandmother lives in this house, after 30+ years of helping raise three kids and hold down the fort. No more giving her her insulin shot and making sure she takes her medications. No more hearing a knock on the door -- or six -- at night while watching TV. No more seeing her shuffle to the bathroom when you wanted to use it, or open the refrigerator to get a late-night snack.

She's gone because my parents want her gone. They've been in a good mood ever since they decided to close down The Store, but honestly, it looks like they've been downright giddy in the days leading up to Grandmother getting shipped out. It seems like every night during dinner they're cracking jokes, smiling and laughing at each other. Meanwhile the person who helped raise them when they were young is going to be sent off to the other side of the river to live her last days alone -- how disrespectful. Plus, their son is dealing with his fucking world fucking falling apart.

Tonight is the last night. And I feel really bad for feeling so tired right now. Have to stop blogging and being on the Internet, if only for work's sake.

The Last Times

Today is supposed to be the day My Fucking Parents take Grandmother out of the house and into a nursing home.

So today, after getting home, I saw a huge tub of my dirty clothes, washed, dried and folded. It turns out (at least according to Grandmother, so this could be totally wrong) that My Fucking Father at the very least dried and maybe brought down and had the clothes washed; she only folded them. If so, it is The Last Time she takes care of my clothes. Oftentimes they're too starchy or they're folded wrong, and sometimes she even gives me My Fucking Father's clothes. But it's good enough. And now, sadly, it is The Last Time.

Mondays means chicken, cause an eight-piece box of chicken at the local grocery store is five bucks, $1.50 off. Tonight was The Last Time I had dinner with Grandmother.

We kind of had a thing -- well, I kind of noticed that she liked it, so I tried to watch it out in the dining room with her -- where we watch Dancing With The Stars. It's the only TV she cares to watch now. Unfortunately, two hours is too much for her. Tonight, with Gavin DeGraw and this William Levy guy left, she went back to her room. And that was The Last Time I saw Dancing With The Stars with Grandmother.

She repeated went to me for stuff. It's annoying, but hey, since she's being thrown out tomorrow, I don't mind her troubling me because it's going to be over. You know, seeing the end of an obnoxious practice really does make you miss it. And it wasn't like Grandmother was repeating herself; she wanted me to drink a cup of milk she wanted but didn't realize was 2%, then she gave me ten bucks to buy orange juice tomorrow (she doesn't know what's happening tomorrow, does she?), then she wanted my help opening a bottle of Ambien. It's The Last Time she will bother me at my bedroom.

I made sure Grandmother took her nightly pills. I was never as vigilant about making sure she took them. Nonetheless, tonight was The Last Time I saw her take her pills.

When I retire for the night, I should open her bedroom and make sure she's still breathing. That will be The Last Time I do that.

My Grandmother, The Runaway

On Friday, after I left for the day, Grandmother apparently left the house. We know that because after my parents and I came home, she was not there.

We heard a series of frantic ringing at the door. I thought my 'Rents were going to get it, but the frantic ringing turned into frantic knocking. Who the fuck could that be?

I see this big, burly guy standing next to Grandmother. He was wearing police gear.

According to the officer, she had to picked up by the police not once but twice.

I don't want her to go into a nursing home, but when she involves the cops, even if it is an overreaction (I don't know all the facts), it's hard not to think she might need some help. That's partly why I immediately filled out the series of forms that set up Grandmother's move into this old folks' home.

Today, I told her I needed her insurance and identification cards to fill out the rest of the forms. She refused, then left the house for the day. No, I didn't press the issue.

Grandmother thinks she can run away from this. She probably can't. But you know what? I understand. Good for her!

(Now I'll get home and My Fucking Father will be there telling me to do something I don't want to do, or that somehow he got the information and we're moving her out. Fuck me.)

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -1).

Brad Frost, I am so sorry for once calling for your head.

I feared the worst. Second-place is the last loser, and I can't raise my expectations and believe that a local team could actually achieve success. I could draw any number of reasons why they would lose to Wisconsin: They're the #1 team, they lost the season series and were thus due, they were going for their fifth championship in seven years.

But they failed. The U. actually won!!! Oh, sure, they squandered a 2-0 lead. But the turning point of the title game came late in the first period when the two teams were tied at 2. Amanda Kessel and Kelly Terry went to the penalty box. Usually this means that Wisconsin will just go to town on Goaltender Noora Raty. But the Gopher managed to kill off both penalties. Then, with about 90 seconds left in the period, Emily West came in on a breakaway and was tripped by the Badgers' Brittany Haverstock. West was awarded a penalty shot, and her toe drag juked Alex Rigsby. That was the first penalty shot goal in a women's tournament final ever, and it was the game-winning goal for the Gophers. Minnesota won their third NCAA title, and their first in seven years.

The State of Hockey should be a powerhouse in hockey. And for a while there, I was sorely disappointed at how the state school was unable to get over the hump and lift the trophy. Order feels restored now. So Mr. Frost, you should stay and add a twin to your first championship. Recruit players as good as All-Tournament teammates Kessel, Sarah Erickson and Megan Bozek, and try to find a goalie as good as Raty, who was named the Most Outstanding Player of the Frozen Four. And please, try and rub your success off the men's hockey team.

Congratulations, ladies, you are off the WMNSS for at least the next year!

#-1: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -3). This news kind of snuck up on me: These girls are playing for a championship this afternoon. Yes, it's only the third-tier Women's Basketball Invitational. But not only are the Goofs in it (after victories over Bradley and Manhattan), but they host the final against Northern Iowa.

What Pam Borton did was sweet. Every single game they've played in this tournament has been at home. The arrangement she made was an effort to get a friendly crowd to buoy a mediocre squad -- and, more importantly, generate money for the school in the process. Borton said she took the invite with the WBI because she didn't know whether the team would get into the incrementally more important WNIT. I now think she took the sure home-court advantage and the tomato can opponents to make her look good. Don't think it should work; she should still be fired. But there is something to play for this afternoon. Moreover, how good could Northern Iowa be? Tickets probably are available.

#-2: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -2). And this team is still alive, for crissake! Where in the hell was this team when it counted??? These Goofs thoroughly dominated advanced stat maven Jim Larranaga and Miami (FL), then held on for dear life to win at Middle Tennessee St. They find themselves in the NIT Final Four, which once again is held at Madison Square Garden. It's ironic to see that the world-famous arena of New York City, a city that has the best of everything, has been the sole host of the consolation men's college basketball tournament.

But that's where the team's going to be. The U. face Washington Tuesday; win that and they'll face either Stanford or Massachusetts for the Not Invited Tournament championship Thursday. The U. seeks their second such title (1993; they also won the 1998 NIT, but they have been forced to give it up because of the Gangelhoff Scandal). No, I won't be watching.

#-3: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -6). And for shit's sake, this team is still alive, too! (This is a stark contrast to the Spring Breaks of years past for the U.; by this time last year and the year before that, for example, the WMNSS would be a lot shorter because the seasons for all these teams would have been done by now.) It has to be said, however, that unlike either Gopher basketball squad, these guys are in a tournament that really counts.

Saturday afternoon they blew away Boston University, a program I never knew the U. has an extensive history against (although there have been scant recent chapters) in their first round/Sweet 16 matchup to start the NCAA men's hockey tournament at the X. They face a familiar foe this afternoon: North Dakota, who: knuckled under the orders of the NCAA and wore jerseys that did not have the Native American Fighting Sioux logo on them (I thought the state legislature made them wear the Indian head ... what pussies); dispatched Western Michigan earlier in the day 3-1; is the top seed in this four-team regional and fourth seed overall; and routed Minnesota 6-3 in the semifinals of the WCHA Final Five after allowing the Goofs to score all their goals first. So the U. has a chance at revenge and an opportunity to wipe away a really shitty performance and memory.

I heard part of the win on the radio. The commentators were complaining that the referees were calling the game too tightly. Up to that point, both the Gophers and Terriers were on seven power plays and tallied two scores on the man-advantage apiece. I don't think it was too much of a problem since they were leading 4-2 at the time. And really, they should be hoping it's called even tighter against North Dakota. They used their muscle to roar past the Goofs last week. If they tried doing that against the officials the U. had Saturday, they might as well keep the UND sin bin door open because the players would be taking up residence in it. Minnesota has one of the best offenses in the country; removing North Dakota's enforcers from the ice will open up the ice and allow the U. snipers to shoot at will.

I went from the Mall of America to St. Paul on my way to the North Star Roller Girls bout at the Minneapolis Convention Center to see if I can scalp a ticket for cheap. The price I was quoted (from the only guy willing to sell a single ticket) was $70. At the time Minnesota was winning, therefore I wanted to wait and see if any Boston U. fans would leave early and be willing to sell theirs for cheap. That's how I got a ticket for the NCAA Championship Game at the X last year; a North Dakota family, who just saw their favored team upset by Michigan, just wanted to off-load their ticket and I was standing at the right place at the right time. But $70 was too much and no one was leaving the arena, even though the game was decided and about to be over. Plus I'm loathe to get to roller derby bout late, so after looking around the sidewalks for a few minutes I went back to my car and drove off. I decided to take my time this afternoon. Maybe I'm overrating the demand of the game and the scalpers will cut their prices to get rid of their inventory. Or, $70 is going to be the ceiling for tickets. By the way, the ticket for last year's championship game only cost me $50.

#-4: Wild (Last Week: -8). Holy shit, did this team have a winning streak? Yes, they did, the first time in exactly a month! And these weren't shitty teams, either; they took out both Vancouver (which just clinched the Northwest Division, the division the Mild was leading almost four months ago) and Calgary. Too bad they squandered it Saturday with a loss at Buffalo.

I think the Calgary victory was the first game Captain Mikko Koivu played in a long time. The difference is stark, if the highlights are to be believed. It's too bad that the best player on the team is an injury risk.

It's good to see this ragtag bunch of no-talents compete, but they should tank the rest of the season in order to get a better draft pick. And speaking of the rest of the season, I could finally see the end of the regular season without needing to page down from the latest game result. Thank God this shit's about to be over. Starting every day and hopscotching every other day, they visit Alexander Ovechkin and Washington before heading home to the Xcel Energy Center and hosting the Rangers, Florida and Los Angeles this screening week.

(One note about the Florida and L.A. games; they form part of the backdrop for what is being billed as North Stars Reunion Weekend. Some 40 former players of the Minnesota North Stars will be in town from Wednesday to Sunday, signing autographs and reminiscing about a team with one of the best logos in all of sports. Hopefully they'll also curse Norm Green about taking our team away from us and mock those Dallas hockey thieves for believing they have any right to wear the "N." The North Stars belong to Minnesota!!! Anyway, the X isn't the only place these alums are going to hang out in; the games, the Panthers one especially, are being planned as important events where announcements will be made noting the former players who will be there in-person and publicizing the other events going on in the Twin Cities. This is a great idea a long time coming, and if the shit regarding Grandmother and The Store can be ignored for several ideas, I like to go to at least one of these events.)

#-5: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -7). A 4-2 week. They did manage to come back and win the season series against Cal Poly last week, but for some puzzling reason dropped a midweek two-game series at the Metrodome against North Dakota St. (!) The team has since come back and taken the first two games of their trio against the Citadel. They then play South Dakota St. one time only on Wednesday before beginning Big Ten play hosting Michigan on the weekend.

#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). This long road trip has done them in. They dropped three of their four games this week. They thus finish their longest road show in years 2-5. They may be in the ballpark for a spot in the playoffs, but I don't they'll make it. Oh well -- they are young and weren't going to win the NBA title this year. Like the Wild, they should just lighten up on the gas pedal and lose the rest of their games to at least get themselves aligned for a top lottery pick ... which, I now realize, they might have already traded for some absurd trade Kevin McHale pulled off when he was still working for the Woofie Dogs. So, never mind.

By the way, I should also apologize to Kevin Love. In the past I've mused about whether Love is the type of player that could be your go-to scorer, and be the best player of a contending team. I've always thought he was best as a complementary scorer whose main task is to rebound. But after KLove poured in 51 points in the team's double-overtime loss to the Bastard Seattle SuperSonics Friday, maybe he can be The Man. From the increasing gossip that he's started to butt heads with teammates (such as J.J. Barea, with whom he had a screaming match some time earlier in the week [I think]), he is started to act like he's The Man. Guys like that usually irritate me, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he knows what he's doing and saying. Maybe he's rightfully taking leadership of this team.

This week: home to Denver (a game a friend wanted to see with me, but I decided to try and get to the regional tournament hockey game in St. Paul instead), at Memphis and Charlotte back-to-back, then back home to Boston.

My Parents Just Stole My Bed From Me

Not thirty minutes ago. I was sleeping (I had a half-hour before I wanted to wake up at 10:30) when I heard a knock on my door. It was My Fucking Father, and he told me, "We move your bed."

He told me that as a stopgap measure he wanted to take my bed to the nursing home they're shoving Grandmother into. Her bed is so huge it'll take more manpower, and we just don't have that right now, so until we have the time and the muscle, we'll just use mine.

I didn't think today would be the day. He didn't exactly specify when he wanted to do this. Now, Grandmother being brought home by the police -- twice -- yesterday may have influenced his decision to do this right now (more on that later) ... or, he could have decided this all along.

Anyway, my reaction to this is one I hope you all can relate to: "Now???"

But I'm moving the bed. In fact, I'm helping My Fucking Father move the bed. In situations like these I should just sit this out in protest. But here I was, in my pajamas, eyes half-open, mind half-asleep, pulling up first my bed and then the boxspring under it, then slowly negotiating both huge rectangles down my hall, through the dining room and living room, down the stairs, through the front door, and into my parents' minivan. We did rest both on the ground outside, so both has had contact with the driveway and the grass. I can imagine ants and mold have just hitched a ride to the nursing home.

I'm still groggy through all of this. Shit, I'm still groggy blogging about it. When My Fucking Father ran ahead of me to get my boxspring (man, he can't wait to fucking throw Grandmother out of the house) I clumsily tried to help him and stepped on something. "Put your shoes on!" he said. "You're moving my bed!!!" I replied. Does he understand how ridiculous this looks -- taking a bed from your own son and trying to act you're doing it under the nose of the woman who's going to use it? Grandmother hears everything, and I'm pretty sure she heard this.

Further extending the absurdity, Mother tried to make up for all of this by clearing the shit off of my sister's bed. For now, I'm sleeping there, and she wanted a clear bed so I could ease back into unconscious. If she could telepathically lift me up and gently guide me under the covers with her mind, she would do that. Mother just didn't know that I would have to be up in 30 minutes -- oh my God, I hope I can bring a good attitude to the charity work I'm doing this afternoon -- and it's useless to fall back asleep, especially now I have to write about this. "I'll do it," I said, shooing her away.

"Is that yours?" she asked, pointing to the bedsheet that was on my mattress and now on the floor. I said yes, and she took it with. Guess Grandmother does need a bedsheet.

This shit is happening. This shit is real.

Fuck You, Father: Another Blog About My Parents Throwing Grandmother Out Of The House

Why did I go downstairs to see My Fucking Father at the computer room tonight? I should have just put on my shoes and left, leaving no explanation as to why I was leaving at 9 at night.

Oh, I remember: I heard one of my parents leaving after dinner, and I didn't know who, and I promised Mother I would listen to what she wanted to change regarding the spreadsheet I helped her set up. So I went downstairs to ask what turned out to be My Fucking Father and asked him about the spreadsheet.

Like he does, that motherfucking bastard, he goes: "That doesn't matter. Anyway. ..." and then he launched into his self-centered spiel about the process of putting Grandmother into a nursing home. He chastised me for not telling him that the TB shot Grandmother had to take had to be seen again in 48 hours. Apparently My Fucking Father came home to take her to the doctor's today; the test would need to be checked on Saturday, but no physician would be on hand. Whoops.

The self-absorption My Fucking Father spewed in this stupid one-sided conversation was breathtaking. I didn't want to hear it because I didn't want to hear the news that my whole world is going to crash down on me come Tuesday. But while standing in front of this asshole I wanted to stop hearing his spittle coming out of his goddamn mouth:

• He says the place Grandmother's moving into is "like a 4-star hotel." It apparently has all the fucking amenities. If it's fucking swanky, why in the fuck doesn't he move in? Asshole.
• Grandmother said she finally wants to go. She doesn't want to go. She said yes to you, dick, because she knows that's what you want to hear, and she knows you're putting her away whatever she says, and if she pipes up and tells you that she really doesn't want to go, and that she's scared of leaving a home she's been in four almost 35 years, you're just going to yell at her like you've done the past decade. She said yes because she quit putting up a fight with you. Goddammit.

I told him I had to go to work at 9. That's a fucking lie; I don't have to work at all. The only thing I need to do tomorrow is get my oil changed and my tires rotated. I want to go to a shoe store and buy shoes with removable insoles. I might exercise as an excuse to watch the tournament games. Yeah, that's my "busy" day.

You know, maybe I shouldn't go out. Maybe I should try and spend as much time with Grandmother as possible. But no, I think going out is my way of protesting what my parents are making Grandmother do. Then again, even if Grandmother wasn't being forced out, I would be out and about on a Friday anyway.

He needs my help moving Grandmother's stuff to her grand new place. Next weekend is bad for me because of the Minnesota RollerGirls bout, the Final Four, the North Stars Alumni weekend and the benefit for the stripper who killed herself over the holidays. I could help over the week, but next weekend is too busy for me. It's like it for My Fucking Father -- and My Fucking Mother, who wants her gone too -- to bother me with his bullshit when I'm busy. After the Frozen Four -- shit, after I do my taxes -- I can help ... wait, who am I kidding, I wouldn't want to assist in this frame-up even if I weren't busy.

I'll admit that seeing Wisconsin and Michigan St. lose angered me; I had picks in all four games tonight, and those two (plus Marquette) lost, thus reaffirming how shitty I am with bracketing. But pissed me off most was My Fucking Father's tone. I wanted to know about an important thing Mother wanted my help on, and he brushed that, and thus me, aside for his own goddamn thing. Fuck you, Father, for disrespecting me and Grandmother. Goddamn you!!!

The Last Resistance

I started off this morning actually around 11:30. I made sure my cellphone was off so that My Fucking Father wouldn't wake me about getting Grandmother to the clinic for her TB shot. I knew I had to do it, but I didn't have to do it so early in the day.

I went over to Grandmother's bedroom and told her, as best I could in Chinese: Father wants me to take her to the doctor to get a shot. Why, Grandmother asked. It's for you before they put you in a home.

She said OK, but I knew what she would do next. I don't know whether it's a symptom of her oncoming senility or she just changes her mind like a girl changes clothes (tm Katy Perry), but as I was going to the bathroom before going to the bedroom to change, Grandmother starts reneging on her yes to go: "Do we have to go today? Can we do it another time? I think I'm sick. Constipated. Shit's not coming out."

Usually I would be very angry with her about doing an about-face. But I know the truth: Grandmother doesn't want to leave the house. My Fucking Father can talk all he wants about how opulent it is and how much the rent is and how she's going to be waited on hand and foot and the fact (maybe, I don't know) that all of her stuff will be moved there. She won't like it there because it's not home.

And I totally understand that. This is home for me, too, and I sure as fuck wouldn't want to be uprooted to anywhere else. Anywhere else isn't here. That's where I like it (at least for now), and I know this is where she likes it.

So I called My Fucking Father back because Grandmother wanted to speak with her. If he wants to kick her out, he'll have to do more of the heavy lifting, because I disagree with it every step of the way. After some back-and-forth between him and her, he called me. He asked, "Is she really sick?"

And this is where I could finally try and do something about all this shit. So I lied to him, sort of: "Well, she has been in the bathroom a couple times. I don't know for sure, I was downstairs trying to fix the printer." (Our printer is broken, but I think I fixed it.)

"Fine," he sighed, as he was going through yet another push-and-pull with Grandmother, "I'll go talk to her." And then, nothing.

---

I did have to go to the U. to be a guinea pig for their scanning lab. I figure on my way there I'd give a call to My Fucking Father, in case he still wanted me to set up an appointment at the clinic for Grandmother. I needed an excuse to call, so I figured I'd tell him I had fixed the printer and printed out the spreadsheet Mother had made.

After some small talk -- there's always small talk to break the ice between us, even if it doesn't break the ice -- I said, vaguely, "Do you need me to do anything else ... ?"

"No," Father said, getting onto the subject I kind of sort of wanted to talk about. "She's crazy. She can move into this great apartment but she doesn't want to. I now have her best friend talking to her, trying to put some sense into her."

"You know, maybe she's homesick," I said.

"No. She should go back to Hong Kong and be with her son," he replied.

Grandmother should, but as I reminded My Fucking Father, "He doesn't want her."

"I know," he said, and then, as is his wont, he hung up without saying goodbye.

I think we're in the clear, at least for now.

---

I had a fantasy baseball auction tonight, so I just stayed out after getting done being a tube subject (and exercising). I was in no rush to come home, so after the auction I bought some milk and put a few bucks' worth of gas in my car.

My Fucking Father was downstairs in the computer room, and as he usually does, he just calls out to me. Hate that. Hate it now especially since there are so many bad things going on with the family.

All he wanted was one bad thing. He wanted me to write down the type of shot the nursing home coordinator wanted Grandmother to get, the TB shot. I wrote it down. That's all he wanted from me. Thankfully my dealings with him was short, but what he wanted was more devastating to me than all the other times he wanted something unreasonable from me.

---

I went upstairs to Grandmother's bedroom because she needed to take her nighttime medicine. When I opened the door (her light was on so I took a guess that she was up) she looked like she was sleeping. But immediately, without even opening her eyes, she waved me in.

What she said next I couldn't quite comprehend. But it was the same old "your father wants me to leave, I'm leaving soon, I need to ask my son for money" stuff she's been telling me since August. I nod as I listen, even though I can't understand anything. What she repeated often was, "I have no choice," and she said it calmly. Plus she was trying to be reassuring to me; "When Father yells at you, don't talk back. Let him scream," I think she said. She was very calm in a resigned sort of way, but I think I know how she's really feeling: terrified and bitter.

I would be too. In fact, I sort of am terrified and bitter now.

Tuesday: The Day My Grandmother Is Thrown Out Of The House

I got the bad news wandering around downtown today, after going to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) one last time before working full-time again and getting this incredible handjob from this beautiful blonde named *i*** with these huge tits the size of turtle shells that she said she got several months ago.

I was at the bookstore when I finally returned My Fucking Father's call at the downtown bookstore about a half-hour after my cell said he called. I thought/assumed he wanted to know when I was coming home (I was lying when I told him I was working). He wanted to know, and he started off the conversation by asking that. But that bastard just softened me up for what he really wanted: "Can you take Grandmother to the doctor for her DB shot?"

I knew that he meant "TB" shot -- tuberculosis. Uh-oh. You know, I knew in the back of my mind that my parents were still working on throwing her out of the house. But there hasn't been any tension -- well, outright tension -- since the huge blowup last Tuesday. And maybe the relative quiet and peace in the house led me to think that maybe things would be OK. Me and my delusional mind just cannot take any adversity.

At dinner My Fucking Father shoved his phone in my face. He had just called, I guess, the coordinator of the place they're throwing her into. She was the one who told me point blank that Grandmother is "moving in" on Tuesday. No. Please, no.

I don't know if it's anything like any of the other places Grandmother was forced to visit, but My Fucking Father said over the phone that it comes with huge spaces and as much help (meals, administering medicine) as needed. He also says it costs five grand a month, like that's supposed to be so impressive that that is the final thing that'll get Grandmother to move. Spending lavish amounts of money isn't the fucking issue.

The way I see it there are three main problems:

1. It's not furnished. My Fucking Father and the coordinator's plan is to bring all the furniture in the following weekend. But I'm busy that Saturday!
2. It's in St. Paul, way across the river and far enough that it'll be a deterrent for me to visit Grandmother frequently and for them to visit at all.
3. She's leaving.

I'm supposed to take her to the clinic later today for her "TB" shot. I was just trying to play dumb for My Fucking Father. I'm using any and all tactics to stall. Maybe I forget to bring her to the doctor; I do have work lined up starting Monday, and if I'm late enough, she doesn't get her shot in time. And then, maybe. ...

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding, she's a goner come Tuesday. God fucking damn. ...

What Was Said Over My Birthday Dinner Sunday

"They said 'x' amount, I said 'x+y' amount, they said no. If they wanted me so much, adding 'y' wouldn't be such a big deal." - Mother (negotiating a salary to remain an employee of the company she sold The Store's client list to ... I'm sorry but I forgot the exact amounts they were negotiating)

"He's my agent!" - Mother (referring to Father negotiating for her, which, it must be said, is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard of because Father has the social skills of a fruit bat)

"So what are you going to do now?" - Brother (to Mother)

"Live my life!" - Mother (in response)

"We still need to buy a washer, dryer ..." - Father (talking about their condo in Vegas)

"We still need to sell everything, sell the property. We're asking the restaurants to come and get our stuff." - Mother

"We wouldn't let him through our front gate. He has to go through the back. He got really mad. But he wasn't nice." - Mother (I don't know who she's talking about -- the company next door?)

"Another month." - Father

It'll break my heart, but I have to see The Store again.

Seeing Dong At The Gym

Had to lose weight after eating a huge Chinese dinner tonight, and I needed to clear my head after what my parents, brother and sister-in-law talked about (more on that some other time). But who am I kidding? The reason I went to the gym tonight was to see all the other basketball tournament games that I can't see at home anymore. (I can't see them online either, as I realized Saturday night.)

No one works out on a Sunday night. I understand, but it's kind of eerie. On the one hand you're hyperaware that only you are doing what you're doing. I usually don't like social situations where people are drawn to your presence for some reason, but when there's no one there, that in itself can feel a little strange. But on the other hand no one's bothering me and I can change the channel to anything I damn well please. Which I did tonight; man, it's great to be able to watch sports and exercise at the same time in peace.

When I got done and changed in the locker room, I just assumed I'd be the only one there. Sure, people were playing hockey in the indoor rinks, but I never saw any of them change in the locker room. (There are racquetball courts adjacent to the locker room, and sometimes the players using those change, which is kind of bothersome because I want to be alone.) That all changed tonight when not one but two guys carrying hockey equipment came in. Apparently they were using the lockers just like me.

I was hoping they were just changing. But I guess hockey takes a lot of you, because when I turned around after washing my hands in the sink, both guys were bare-assed naked. Thankfully I didn't see any of their dicks (I just put that in the title because I think titling this blog post "Seeing Down At The Gym" will get more clicks) but I saw the goalie (I know it's the goalie because his bag was huge) waddling his big fat ass to the shower. I made sure I wasn't able to see his penis through my glasses. The other one, too.

This is the second time in about a week where I saw naked men in the locker room at my community activity center. When I walked in to go home there was a guy, taking a shower with the curtain open. My God, it was like a scene out of Stryker Force: I accidentally gazed upon this man, soaping his hair, in side profile, his sex organ just hanging out. And I'm going to hell for saying this: If that deal was in relaxed mode, let's just say he has a big dick. If I were showering my dong would have been much, much smaller. So seeing this (let alone remembering this) makes me kind of sad.

But it also sends my imagination on a trip. I hope to have a beautiful woman just come into my shower and I'm just minding my own business, my business just enjoying getting clean from the hot water cascading onto it. And then the woman gets turned on, lunges for my penis, and then we start doing it nasty.

We're going out for my birthday dinner today instead of yesterday because my brother and sister-in-law were busy yesterday.

Just realized that more information regarding the death of The Store will probably come up in conversation. I hate that. I just want to avoid and not hear things and pretend that everything is OK and the same as it's always been.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -1). All year -- ever since I started the WMNSS, actually -- I have scarcely cared to pay attention to this team. Women's hockey remains the temple for only a handful of schools, so I cannot be impressed unless this program wins a title. They haven't won in a long time, so I'm waiting.

Well, here we are. A 3-1 defeat of Cornell Friday in Duluth, Minn. set up a 1-vs.-2 matchup for the NCAA women's hockey championship against Wisconsin, featuring Brianna Decker, just named as the winner of the Kazmaier Award (women's college hockey's version of the Hobey Baker, or, if you're not from the Midwest, the Heisman Trophy). For them to win, I believe the Goofs have to rely on Amanda Kessel, who scored one of the goals and assisted on the other two in the semifinal victory over the Big Red.

Minnesota went 2-1-1 in the season series against Wisconsin. I still remember in one game, Kessel had this minute-long sting when she was the only player in the Wisconsin offensive zone and, despite having two or three Badgers marking her, she repeatedly was able to keep the puck in and even get a few shots off.

That was a game where they went to a shootout, which Wisky won. Minnesota won two of the other three games, though, so that's something they have on the putative favorite. It'd be great to go to a bar or even Ridder Arena to see this game. Unfortunately, there is no TV broadcast. Shit, there isn't even a radio broadcast for this, which I find incredible to believe. You can watch online through the NCAA (that's free, unlike men's basketball -- man, what a greedy enterprise that has become since the new contract kicked in last year) and the U.'s athletic website will stream a complimentary audiocast online, however.

Maybe I should be more optimistic. But it seems as if they're going to lose the title game, you know? So that's why I have them at -1. Their season ends either way Sunday afternoon; guess you can't ask anything more than that. Well, besides a championship.

#-2: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -6). They actually did make the NIT, albeit as a 7-seed, which still is a very dreadful position to be in heading to your postseason.

However, they went into La Salle and came out with a 70-69 win. That's the kind of pressure-cooker situation (however false; after all, this is the bastard NIT) that you didn't see this team thrive in during the regular season. Can they continue to be road warriors? They play at Miami (FL) Monday night.

#-3: Gopher women's basketball (Re-Entry!). Wait, wait, wait ... the Goofs women's b-ball team is the third best team in the survey?

Hell, I thought I wouldn't be talking about this this team until November. But apparently they did reach the postseason. No, not the NCAAs; fuck no. And no, not the Women's NIT. I had absolutely no fucking idea that there is a third women's basketball tournament, something called the Women's Basketball Invitational. It actually began in 2010 -- who fucking knew?

As is the case in the nebulous, shady-sounding world of postseason negotiations that don't involve the NCAA, the U. struck a deal with this WBI. They felt not only like they could make that tournament with a 15-17 record, but they could grab a home game or two because their record would be better than most others in the field. Little did they know that the WNIT would have taken them. Minnesota reserved a spot in the inferior tourney before officials for both the WNIT and WBI decided not to select the team. (I read on a message on the Star Tribune's message board that the players believe Head Coach Pam Borton misled them.) I would be more angry that the athletic department settled for a worse product nobody had heard of, but if it's not the NCAAs, who cares that you ignored the next-best tournament for the third-best tournament?

Anyway, they crushed their first-round opponent, Charleston Southern, 80-51 at Williams Arena Friday night (weren't there some girls' state high school basketball tournament games that were supposed to be played at the Barn then? Did the U. just throw them out?). They are now down to the Elite Eight, and they host Bradley this afternoon at 2. Tickets might still be available.

#-4: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). The reality of the Woofie Dogs post-Ricky Ricky seems to be settling in. They started their season-long, high school tournament-induced roadtrip well, eking out a 127-124 win in Phoenix. But they've crashed down to earth, falling in overtime to Utah and then losing the 19th-straight contest against The Bastard Minneapolis Lakers. They weren't blown out in either game (six and five, respectively), but they are losses, and you wonder if this club can remain in shouting of the eighth and final playoff spot in the Western Conference.

They finish their road show this week: Sacramento, Golden State, San Antonio and Oklahoma City.

#-5: Swarm (Re-Entry!). Haven't heard from these guys in a long time. They lost at Buffalo Saturday 13-10. Their record now stands at 5-4. They stay away from the Xcel Energy Center for one more week (the NCAA men's hockey tournament West Regional is at the X), so they will visit Washington next Sunday night. Next Sunday? Well, that means that there's no game they're playing this week. They go back off the WMNSS. ...

#-6: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -2). Not like this. It doesn't really matter if they won or lost the WCHA conference tournament. These things decide little except bolster the chances that a bubble team can win some more quality games so they can enter the tournament. No one really plays all-out for these games, especially when their spot in the postseason is already assured and especially if, like the Goofs, they are hosting a regional. You're going to play in front of your home crowd; why risk injury to improve on your seeding?

But don't get eliminated like they did Friday night, where hated (and racist) rival North Dakota scores six unanswered goals on them, in their metropolitan area. If you're just going to not try, don't try from the start. Let NoDak score six goals on you from the outset. Don't jump out to a 3-0 lead and then let them not only come back, but turn a lopsided rout one way into a lopsided rout the other way.

I'm really, really disturbed by this WCHA Final Five Semifinal loss. This sudden collapse raises questions in my mind over the squad's toughness, their ability to be resilient, their drive to fend off incredible momentum swings against talented teams that could bury them if they're not careful. I saw the worst of this team at the worst possible moment. And now I don't think they can win the championship anymore.

The announcement of the field of 16 teams will be unveiled at 11 today. According to USCHO.com Senior Writer Jayson Moy, the Goofs are safely ensconced as the eighth-best team in the country and will face Boston University. Juicily enough, if they defeat the Terriers, Moy predicts they'll have a rematch with North Dakota, who currently is considered to be the fourth-best team in the land.

One other thing to all of this. If you saw the game or highlights from it, North Dakota was wearing their "Fighting Sioux" jerseys, with the Native American head logo emblazoned on the front. I guess wearing them in this tourney was OK because it was run by the WCHA, not the NCAA. Not so for the NCAAs, of course. If they show up for their first game wearing the same uniforms they wore this weekend, it looks as if the organization will make the university forfeit. However, the crazy North Dakota Legislature passed a law mandating that the name and logo be used for all the university's athletic teams.

Moy thinks there's a chance North Dakota and the NCAA will allow this controversy to come to a head at the X Saturday afternoon. Would NoDak have the balls to actually go through with making their student-athletes wear the Indian head mascot? If so, will the NCAA then throw the team off the ice and declare their opponents winners? If that happens, will UND fans (already having a reputation of being a rowdy lot, partly because of their circle-the-wagons victim mentality over this bizarre allegiance to an ethnicity nearly all of them don't belong to) riot, something the St. Paul Police Department in 2008 when the Republican National Convention came and soiled the X? Honestly, I can see things going that far. We'll see.

#-7: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). A college (albeit Division I) baseball game on a weeknight under a domed stadium, even though the weather outside is unseasonably warm and dry? Yeah, it would have been better outside, but there are much worse ways to spend an evening. That's where I was Tuesday, seeing the Gopher Nine fall apart early and fail to come back against Kansas St., 9-5.

I don't know how good this team was supposed to be, but they are now well behind the 8-ball after going 0-4 this screening week. They have five in a row and currently are 6-9 in a homestand that lasts 27 games and five-plus weeks. They will try and salvage the series win after losing to Cal Poly Saturday. They then have a midweek two-fer versus North Dakota St. before starting a weekend series against The Citadel.

#-8: Wild (Last Week: -4). Lost all three games this week. They are now one of the five worst teams in the NHL. That's the silver lining in all of this: After year upon year of just missing out on the playoffs and thus having being in the shitty limbo state where they can't play for the Stanley Cup but aren't in a position to get a good draft pick, they are going to get someone with some potential. Lord knows they don't have enough talent to "improve" on fifth-worst.

The St. Patrick's Day game against The Bastard Hartford Whalers has to be another pathetic chapter. Up 3-1, they fucked themselves yet again, coughing up four unanswered goals to get wiped out 5-3. Afterward, Head Coach Mike Yeo said, "We're in hell." No shit, Charlie Brown, you should see your team from a consumer's standpoint.

By the way, I sometimes listen to Wild broadcasts on the radio. They have a College Night. The Timberwolves do, too. The Woofie Dogs offers upper-level tickets for $5 and give the first, oh, 1,000 college students the chance to move down to the lower level. The Mild have this deal where college students can buy tickets for -- get this -- the bargain-basement price of $35. Only $35?!?!?! You're fucking kidding me. Never mind the cost, which is prohibitive for a college student to see a team playing where you would have to either drive or ride public transportation for 90 goddamn minutes to get to. The way they're playing now, I wouldn't pay 35 cents to see these shit players.

Home to Vancouver and Calgary, then at Buffalo.

#-Infinity: Gopher wrestling (Re-Entry!). The NCAAs came and went. The Gophers website and the Star Tribune seem to be upbeat about the program's showing in the Championships this weekend: A second-place showing led by Heavyweight champion Tony Nelson, the first to capture a title for the U. after the program missed out on everything in 2011.

I regard this situation glass-half-empty -- in other words, truthfully. What Nelson did is quite impressive. Also note that Nelson finished the year winning his last 25 matches. However, there was another Gopher who was in the championship match and lost: Dylan Ness at 149.

He was defeated by a guy named Frank Molinaro of Penn St., the team that beat the Goofs and won the overall NCAA title. And it was an dicksmack -- 143 to 117 1/2. The Nittany Lions had only one player in individual title contention Saturday morning and they still won going away.

The program may be at a crossroads. On the one hand you can't totally complain about coach J Robinson. He was named Coach of the Year, he probably has an awesome recruiting class coming in, and he can do whatever the hell he wants, even if it ruffles the politically-correct features at the athletic department. On the other hand it's clear that there is a new dynasty in the sport, led by Cael Sanderson, the Iowa St. legend who never lost in his college career and now has won back-to-back. That dynasty tag used to belong to Minnesota. Will they get it back, or has Robinson lost his touch?

Right now I am in My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Edition). I didn't intend to blog, but what I intended to do was work on this application form I need to fill out by Monday for this study I want to do. I could also start working on my taxes. But I can do neither because I can't go to the top floor of the shop; no one is there, so they decided to close it. There are tables downstairs, but the lamps are of a romantic dimness. I can barely see the keys in front of me.

What did I do to celebrate my birthday?

• I went to McDonald's to get a Shamrock Shake. They changed the formula from what I remember it to be when I was young. It's not just a regular shake with green food coloring. It seems different. But, it is quite delicious.
• I went to the library to do two things: 1) Synchronize my watch with a timer on the Internet (I don't trust going through my laptop to do that because it's too slow) and 2) Go through a Consumer Reports to find out the best sneakers on the market. I have these new insoles and I need to find sneakers with removable liners.
• Walked around the local mall.
• A half-hour after I returned home, I went back into my car to do my annual tradition: Turn on the radio and jot down all the songs I recognize playing at 2:17 p.m., the time of my birthday. I should blog post about those soon.
• Cleaned the house, specifically the floor beneath the piano, the stairs and the landing. I also go around to cleaning the leaves of the two huge plants we have.
• Checked my facebook for birthday wishes. Buddha bless my friends.
• Passed out watching TV.
• Ate two slices of beef for dinner.
• Went to Burger King after dinner to get the free fries with green ketchup. It's weird eating green ketchup; you keep telling yourself it's ketchup with green food coloring, but a part of you thinks it tastes different.
• Went to not one but two stripclubs: My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) as well as the other non-cover titty bar in town.
• Wound up here to realize that I really can no longer watch any game of the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament for free. Greedy fuckers.

I'm not one of those guys who barhops. I don't drink all that much. Plus, when you go to a bar on St. Patrick's Day (which is going to be a noisy hell in and of itself) and you order a drink, and people realize today is your birthday, they feel obligated to buy you more drinks. I'll just throw it all up, then have to crash at some stranger's place for the night because I can't drive home. It'd be a fucking nightmare. No drinking for me tonight (at least until I get home). Shit, the only person I even told about today being my birthday is a stripper with whom I'm facebook friends. Got a lapdance from her; probably the most exciting thing I did today.

You know, in retrospect, I wanted this birthday to be a little happier.

My God, I Turn 36 Today

Today is my birthday. I've remarked to some people when I told them my birthday falls on St. Patrick's Day that I don't like to go out because I'm not much of a drinker and that once people know it's my birthday they feel obligated to get me drinks, and so many people will be so generous that I won't be able to drink it all and I'd throw it all up. I've told those people that I tried going out on my birthday once before. Truth is, I've never done that because I knew I didn't want to deal with the hassle. I mean, I don't mind celebrating my birthday, but plying me with drinks is not my way of having fun. Lapdances, sexual favors ... that would be my way of having fun. But I've never done that.

---

The best birthday gift I've ever had? Seeing my Grandmother get naturalized as a U.S. citizen on March 17. The worst? Flying back to my alma mater after Spring Break and learning a friend and dormmate drowned.

My junior year I was just dinkin' around the dorm hallway. One of the guys there was of age and therefore was allowed to keep alcohol in his room.

I sauntered in there; I could do that because his door was open. It was open a lot of the time. There, he and his dorm girlfriend (or at least the girl who hung out with him often) were just listening to music.

I told him it was my birthday. He generously poured me a shot of either whiskey or bourbon. It was bad, but my mood became better. Pretty soon some other guys on the floor came in and we just hung out.

It's in nights like that where I would enjoy celebrating my birthday.

---

Thirty-five is a huge milestone age. Thirty-six might be even worse because that's half of 72, and 72 is getting close to the expected years of life a man who was born 36 years ago would live.

What have I done during these 36 years? Nothing -- except be with my family. And you know what? I don't think it's wrong of me to do that.

Right now, what with The Store (gulp) and Grandmother (gulp), I feel the need to break away. Why haven't I done this before? Why wasn't I prepared for this day?

And then I realized: I did not do this because, in my heart of hearts, I felt it necessary to be there for my family. They may not like it, but I think I would be betraying my family if I just went out and did things out on my own. My Grandmother was always there for me when I was young; I think I need to return the favor, especially as she's getting more mentally erratic. And my parents keep asking me to do things or to explain things because their English isn't the greatest. What happens if they need me to translate something and I wasn't there? That could cost them something very important. I don't think I would be able to live with myself unless I absolutely knew I could help them to the best of my abilities on stuff they say they need.

Now, could these be excuses for not growing up? Yes. But I guess that deep down, I don't want to break away from my family. My identity is wrapped up with my family. This is subject to change, especially with my parents retiring. I mean, it's really weird; I don't think I've comprehended how life around the house for me will change now that the 'Rents will be spending a lot, if not all, of their time at home. I always thought that a little distance between us was the best way for all of us to stay living together in the same place. (Of course, I never told my parents that. Staying at home at 36 is a red flag for, well, just about anything.) However, I'm getting that itch that I need to leave now that they're going to be home much more often. I hope they don't think I'm trying to avoid them ... although, yes, I kind of am.

Goddamn, I'm 36 years old. At the very least I should go to a strip club, right?

Expenses Without Receipts

• On Saturday, I ... was at the boys' state high school championship game. ETA: But first I went to the library to print a copy of coupons for a car wash in St. Paul. I would've used our printer, but for some goddamn reason it doesn't work. The copy cost: 10 cents.
• I spent no money there ... but I think I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). Made good on a stripper's 2-for-1 offer: $30.
• Then to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place. With tip, I think: $13.
• Sunday I went to the Auto Show. Because I brought in a cup of ramen I got $2 off admission: $8.
• After getting work as a guinea pig Sunday night, I cashed in on one of my free pizza guitar picks/coupons at Pizza Luce. There I hung out with my laptop at the bar. Got a beer. With tip then: $4.50.
• Monday I went to Diamonds. With tip: $4.25.
• Had to clear my head that night so I went to the gym. And then I felt self-destructive so I went to a party and got a dance from Justine (a clean one, so that's why I'm revealing her name): $20.
• Tuesday I went to Diamonds again. After hearing Father screaming at Grandmother I thought I was entitled to indulge myself with a cookie. With tip: $6.25.
• That evening I went to the University of Minnesota baseball game at the Dome, where they got drilled by Kansas St. This time I took note of the total price of a hot dog and bottle of Pepsi: $7.75.
• Went to this other coffeeshop whose name I should finally reveal: Caffetto. Small cup of coffee and tip: $1.75.
• My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover): $8.
• Finally, Late-Night Italian. With tip: $14.
• Wednesday, Diamonds: $4.25.
• After a meeting I finally used a coupon for a free cocktail at one of the best restaurants in the Twin Cities. It was only a quarter more (including tip) than the beer I had at the meeting. Anyway, went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) where I got a lapdance from a woman going through some stuff, like me: $28.
• The only non-receipted thing Thursday was My Favorite Stripclub, again. There was a new dancer who wanted me to buy her a drink. OK, but that means you go to the back of he queue before you get an LD from me: $13.

Caught up.

Have Spent A Lot Of Money This Week. A Lot.

More than I'm taking in as a PCA and with any work I'm finding at the U. A lot of it has to do with the stress at home and in my life, but honestly, this week has been kind of busy:

• Sunday I found work having my prostate screened;
• Monday was my last day of "freedom" since Dancing With The Stars premieres next week;
• Tuesday there was a rare midweek game for the University of Minnesota baseball team against a school that's actually big, in this case Kansas St. (they lost BTW);
• Wednesday I had this alumni club meeting;
• Thursday is the beginning of the Big Dance, and it's important enough to me that I'll try and break away to watch at a restaurant or something;
• And Friday is a continuation of the tournament, plus the burlesque show.

Saturday's my birthday, so I'll probably be staying in, at least for part of the time. Sunday I'll be around because the family's having dinner. Sunday will probably be the first day I spend absolutely no money. Thank God ... or maybe not; getting out of the house is the only way I can escape all the bullshit going on with this family.

Yesterday I was woken up from fast and loud footsteps made by my parents outside. This morning I was woken up from My Fucking Father yelling loudly at Grandmother, who pleaded with him not to put her in a home. He has rarely been so angry. From what I can understand, he has wanted her for a long time, and not that the deal has just about been struck, he is not going to allow her to stay at home, even though she is, for the most part, fine. He walked away from her screaming, "Get out! Now!!!"

I didn't know what to do. The outright fury he displayed kept me in my bedroom, even though I couldn't go back to sleep. But after the 'Rents left, Grandmother woke me up and asked me to call her real son in Hong Kong. Never mind that it was nighttime over there; I wanted to help her out, even if she couldn't ask for the money she wanted from him. Grandmother's desperate; she doesn't know what's going on except that things are changing, and in ways she doesn't like. This is not her being crazy; I totally understand what is going on, and I empathize with her. I just didn't know how to help. I was being selfish; I asked for her permission to go back to sleep. Holding the phone and out of options, she let me retire to my bedroom.

I was woken up a couple hours later by more commotion, this time from Grandmother and her friends. She and one of the friends came into my room (I left it unlocked in case she needed something). Grandmother has known this couple for a long time; I remember them mostly for the woman of the couple, who had these humongous set of tits that I secretly fantasized over when I was young. She is much older now and it looks like her breasts are smaller. It's either due to reduction surgery or old age. But I digress. ...

He (Grandmother's friend) wanted to try and help, and so he asked me for any information about the case workers who know about Grandmother. I gave him the number of the people I work for, and he said he'd try his best. I felt good that her friends stepped up to help her, at least to this extent. It's very difficult to tell her what's going on, what I can do and how I feel about the whole situation, partly because of her frailty, partly because of the language barrier. So to see that they're stepping in made me feel a little bit better. And I felt a little more better to see that her friends kind of give a damn about what's happening.

Unfortunately this couple would not do what would be my ideal situation for her: Take her in. If she no longer can stay here, the next best thing would be to move in with friends. But they say they can't take care of her. And I feel bad all of a sudden because I can't take care of her either.

Once we were done with her conversation, the couple started to leave ... and Grandmother began going with them. When I went to the hallway, her male friend pointed out a suitcase that he lifted up. Grandmother packed it that morning -- "With all of her medications!" he said. Her plan was to stay with her best friend, who is in senior housing. After being yelled at that morning and told her stay her is numbered, I wouldn't blame her. Of course, she has no idea what to do. But if I were her, not knowing what to do in the future wouldn't stop me because the future designed for me is something I wouldn't like.

So off she went to her best friend's pad. I wanted to think she would be able to stay there, at least for a while. If not her, then the couple she drove off with. Grandmother has stayed out overnight a few times over the years, and I assume she had stayed with them. What's another two, three days as they figure something out?

---

I came back home around 1 in the morning, like I told the 'Rents I would. I looked up at the second floor of the house. Didn't see a light. Good. Grandmother needs to get away from here.

Just to make sure, once I came in I went up the stairs. Her bedroom door was closed. Did she close it before she left this afternoon?

I opened it, just in case. There, I saw a nightlight on and a lump on the bedroom. Turns out she did return.

I can just imagine seeing her trundle back home this evening, suitcase in hand. She would be extremely, extremely depressed to come back in defeat. And of course, my parents would be overjoyed at seeing her so miserable. Disgusting. And sad.

Just wanted things to just be, man, I just wanted things to just be. But when I came home this afternoon I saw my parents' minivan and a car that did not look like any of Grandmother's friends. Uh-oh.

When I come in I hear a white woman's voice coming from the dining room. When I reach the top of the stairs I see what looks to be a nurse asking questions with Grandmother and my parents all sitting at the dining room table. This is not the nurse I'm accustomed to seeing. It's another, and that really bugged me.

Is it a yearly assessment? Father telling me to go buy chicken was a red flag that this was not going to be something I would like. My 'Rents' smiling and laughing with the nurse didn't sit well with me either. But when the nurse asked Grandmother to show her around her bedroom, I didn't know what to think.

The nurse dispelled all my doubts. She asked about the TV: "So, you're going to bring that with you?" And it looks like that my old folks were undeterred in throwing her out of the house. This is the strongest move -- probably *the* move -- that puts her in a home.

What the nurse described is, in my opinion, frightening. She said she couldn't bring all the clothes that are in her bedroom now to her (what sounds to be like a) dorm room. And it's going to be smaller than the bedroom. All this while Grandmother was smiling and answering the nurse's questions with, "Yeah," and then punctuating it with a hearty laugh. Grandmother doesn't understand the questions she's asking. And the nurse doesn't care that she doesn't understand, which really pisses me off.

All this happened before my eyes, and I can do nothing to stop it. I hate work, but work is the only thing I can think of that could create a situation where I could, somehow, move to an apartment and bring Grandmother with me. That would be a good situation for her: Living with someone that she not only recognizes but knows is loved by, having the freedom to cook what she wants (within limits) and, more importantly, communicate on the phone to her friends. I know that there are going to be food, cooking and phone-calling limits in the home. And the nurse detailed this living arrangement not unlike the off-campus apartments my friends had after freshman year: A common living room with four or five separate bedrooms. Finally, the nurse said that there are very, very few people there that speak Vietnamese or Chinese; only one nurse during the day, and possibly one other old person in the compound.

Once she realizes how isolated she will be, and facing the fact that she will probably die living like this, she'll go crazy or pop all her sleeping pills or call me every hour every night, pleading with me to take her away from this prison. I know I will have to drive every night to dry her tears, and I'll spend hour upon hour listening to her babble in Chinese about things I don't understand. She will have no one, and my parents don't give a shit. (Just as bad, by the way: This home is in St. Paul, well across the river, many miles away from me, at a time when gas prices are high and rising. Like I say, my parents don't give a shit.)

After the visit, Grandmother said, like she has said constantly, that she has no choice, even though she doesn't like it. But then, as I had to leave the house to exercise, she said she wanted me to take her to my uncle's place in an effort to see if, maybe, she could move in with them. That wouldn't be a bad idea, though Grandmother can be a handful. But I just know that she would crack under unfamiliar situations, and that's what she's facing right now.

I stayed out a long time; wanted to get away, go to a party and maybe get my pee-pee touched. (No, I did not get my pee-pee touched.) When I came back, Grandmother didn't tell me whether my aunt and uncle would consider taking her in. I couldn't understand her, but I don't know if Grandmother even raised the idea to them. It doesn't help that when she needs to help herself, she either doesn't speak up or, worse, goes along cheerfully.

I am numb at what I saw in front of my eyes today. And it's something I can never unsee.

Sad Saturday Night In Uptown

After working the boys' state high school hockey title game, I had time to go around Uptown. I park just north of the area because I can usually find free parking there, plus I need to exercise, plus I like walking around the area, which I hadn't done in a while.

What I wanted to do was hit Cheapo, the longtime large used CD and album store. I used to spend hours flipping through the CD's; the metronomic click-clack was a distinct sound that anyone who's spent time there understand. I feel bad that I hadn't been there in a long time. I've been too busy doing other things, and I don't have the money to frivolously buy music. But browsing has been my salvation from many lonely weekend nights, especially when I was young.

Walking the half-mile there I came across the Infiniteahouse ... well, what was the Infiniteahouse. I had drank their tea three or four times, but I could never frequent the place because I had My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Division) close by, plus they weren't open late enough for me to come in and either work or dink around the Internet. But the guy behind the counter, who I believe is/was the owner, was really nice and knowledgeable about the bank of teas he had on the wall. He's good people.

Unfortunately, good people close business that fail. I think I read somewhere a long time ago that half of all businesses fail within five years. It probably was a dream of his to open up a tea shop, and my heart goes out to him because his was probably breaking every time he packed up his things and moved out of his place of business.

The place next door was cleaned out, too. I wondered if The Store was going to be like that. I haven't asked how they're going to shut things down. Are they going to clean it out? Do they need help? Part of me hopes they won't need to, because it would be too painful for me to move stuff out. But are they asking people to do it for them? Are they -- gulp -- doing that right now? I can't imagine seeing empty walls. That reinforces my reticence in going back there.

---

When I finally reached Cheapo I saw they were closed. On a Friday?! A couple years ago they shortened their hours. They used to be open till midnight seven days a week, but they cut that down to 10 on weekdays.

But there was a sign at the front door stating they were open only from 10 to 10. I was afraid that the digitizing music was going to be bad for Cheapos, but I thought that there would be enough diehards who want to "see" and "feel" music concretized in their hands for it to survive. It is, but it's cutting hours. Plus, in the past couple years they dedicated more of their basement level to used books. They're going to start selling used cookware if it means filling up their square footage with sellable inventory.

Who knows how long Cheapos will last? I hope it does for a long time. It'd be bad if the owners wanted to go on but saw the writing on the wall and realized they could no longer be.

Glad The Store isn't facing the same fate. Business hasn't been great for the longest time, but profit-wise it was still worth keeping on. They just decided they didn't want to do it anymore. That's a good thing.

Or, I'm in denial about the death of The Store. One of the stages of grief.

The Final Composite Bracketology

I usually want to leave the WMNSS as my latest blog post for at least 24 hours. But since they're done on Sundays, it interferes with the final day of conference tournaments. And since I love bracketology and I will quickly follow the survey (which is time-stamped when it was saved the first time but, honestly, was posted just after noon) by copying the aggregate result of all the bracketologists that are compiled by The Bracket Matrix.

In short, these are, in order, the teams that still will sweat it out this evening:

Colorado St., BYU, Cal, Texas, South Florida, Seton Hall, N.C. St., Drexel, (cut line), Mississippi St., Washington, Miami (FL), Northwestern, Iona, Tennessee, Marshall, Dayton

The only big thing that could happen when it comes to inclusion is the Atlantic-10 final. Xavier, a team that most prognosticators say has already made the Big Dance, faces St. Bonaventure, a team that will not get in unless they win this title game.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: Positive Numbers). I was working the boys' state high school hockey tournament last (Saturday) night. I remembered that the Gopher women's hockey team started the NCAA Tournament at around the same time at Ridder. The first question that popped into my mind: Will their opponent, North Dakota, wear their "Fighting Sioux" logo jerseys as mandated by the state legislature?

Turns out they did not. They wore this jersey that only had "North Dakota" written in cursive script. If they donned the jerseys they once had, the one that North Dakota alums and fans are frighteningly hellbent on keeping, the NCAA said they would be forfeiting the game.

Well, if the result is they wouldn't advance to the Women's Frozen Four, they might as well give in to their fans' racist loyalties, because Minnesota drilled them, 5-1. They thus advance to Duluth, where they face the 3-seed, Cornell, which had to go to triple overtime to dispatch Boston University, Friday.

#-2: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: 0). I like the fact that there are hanging TV's above our line of sight at the X press level. There I was able to glance at the Gopher men's hockey game being played at Mariucci. I saw that the Alaska-Anchorage Seawolves scored three goals to take a 3-1 lead on the Goofs and I thought, Well, they'll be playing some more Sunday, and that doesn't do any good for its momentum.

But after looking at the play on the ice for a bit, I looked on my Twitter feed and saw that the team put in three goals in a 90-second span. And what was once a shocking result turned into a 7-3 laugher and thus a series sweep. It's great to see a team score, let alone rip off six goals in a row. Take notes, Mild.

So they advance to the WCHA Final Five, also being played at the X. For being one of the top-two seeds and winning their first-round series, they get a bye into the semifinals Friday.

#-3: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). A 2-2 week. They got crushed by Nebraska to end the Dairy Queen Classic, but they "win" the tournament (over the Cornhuskers and West Virginia) based on run difference. They then survive Hamline Wednesday 3-2 in 16 innings. And then they began participating in the Metrodome Tournament by beating Stony Brook 7-1 but losing to Kansas 9-4, a game in which the Goofs scored all their runs in the bottom of the first inning but allowed eight of the Jayhawks' runs in the top of the second.

They play Stony Brook again this (Sunday) morning, then have an unusual midweek two-game series against Kansas St. at the Dome. They then begin a three-game set against Cal Poly.

#-4: Wild (Last Week: -6). I thought the 6-0 thrashing in Detroit was the low point of this hockey organization's year. I was wrong; Tuesday's 7-1 shit-kicking in Colorado was the low point. It was the back end of a home-and-home sweep by The Bastard Quebec Nordiques. They did end their five-game losing streak with a shootout win over The Bastard Winnipeg Jets, but so what?

The Star Tribune's Michael Russo (who has to be so frustrated covering this team that he'll beg to work for ESPN or the NBC Sports Network very soon) said that injuries and turnover have decimated this club since its Dec. 10 high. And in a refrain I swear I've heard about this team before, there are too many fresh faces playing in the top forward lines. At what point do we start criticizing General Manager Chuck Fletcher for rushing rookies too soon?

They start a five-game homestand today (Sunday) against the Bastard Atlanta Flames. The Team That Was Stolen From Us and the Bastard Hartford Whalers (this must be the Relocated Franchises portion of their schedule) also meet the Mild this week.

#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). Damn you, Kobe!! Damn you straight to hell!!! Damn you for taking out Ricky Rubio, the most dynamic point guard we've had since Stephon Marbury!!! Damn you for fucking our chances of making the playoffs this year (and quite possibly the next) in the ass!!!

Look, I didn't think the Woofie Dogs were going to win a championship this year. But we haven't seen a pro winter sports team make the postseason in so long and they were in position to do just that. So what if it meant yet another sweep for the franchise? A playoff berth this year would be fantastic! And that's now all gone because Rubio has a torn ACL. That takes him away from the Spanish national team for this summer's Olympics (they must be thrilled), and there's a very good chance he'll miss a majority of next season.

It's The Year Two Curse. Most of the team's draft picks (Love, Johnson, Brewer, Flynn -- OK, I'm missing some others and a couple of these four may not have been hurt) have lost significant time their sophomore year, if not the whole season. I thought that stopped happening once Kevin McHale left.

In their first game post-Ricky Ricky, they reached double digits in turnovers and promptly lost to a New Orleans squad (at home) they would've defeated easily. That finished their screening week at 2-2, but signs for the squad now point downward, sadly. The season's over; might as pack it up for next year.

They start a seven-game roadtrip this week, oh, goodie! Phoenix, Utah and the Lakers first up.

#-6: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -5). You know, I got a massage Friday night. I was listening to the game before I went in. The last thing I heard was that the Goofs extended their B1G Tourney Quarterfinal lead over Michigan to nine points. They win this, their berth in the NIT is assured. And who knows? This is a BcS conference; the top dogs might lay down and allow one of their bubble brethren to win the whole thing.

But apparently the Wolverines came back; the U. lost by four. The only good thing the club did was probably prevent Northwestern from getting into the NCAA Tournament in the first time in their history with a 75-68 overtime win. But they finish 19-14, 6-12 in-conference. Will they make the NIT? Seriously, does it matter? Let the Tubby Smith Watch begin.

Handjob At The New Place Of The Party

Because things have been so shitty at home and in my life, I decided three weeks ago to go to this Monday night party. It's a party I've spoken about before, but the host/lead stripper of the party moved. Also, I needed to do some things at home and hanging out with my wang out didn't seem like the right thing to do. But it was still bad, and I decided I was entitled to some tit action ... and maybe a little more.

My ATF there, ***e*, did not know I was coming. She had invited me several times to the new place before, but I said I was busy. Well, imagine each other's surprise when I found the new place and saw her standing at the kitchen counter!

The new place is nice. Not to say that the old place was bad, but there's a lot more room in this one. What's best about the place is that it's a split-level. That means that the living room -- which for parties doubles as the place where the lap dances are given -- is separated from the kitchen, which continues here to be the main place the partiers congregate whenever they're not getting LD's. In the old place the living room is adjacent to the kitchen; it was small and well-lit and very close to the commotion in the kitchen, so there was very little privacy. Privacy is in ample supply here.

Naturally I get a dance from ***e*, as I always do. And I wait until everybody else is in the kitchen in order to get my seat, wink-wink. She was scared of getting caught; for some reason she thought that the host's sister (who is also a stripper who works these parties on occasion) was sleeping in a room just down the hall from the living room. (The living room, bathroom and bedroom/stripper changing room is on the same level as this LD place.) So all she did was grope me.

That wouldn't do. Once we were done, and checking that everybody else was still down in the kitchen, I took myself out. "Touch it, touch it!" I said, and even though she muttered, "You're going to get me in trouble," she gave my little man a quick squeeze. Yippee!

---

***e* had to leave -- or did she? I remember that there was a snowstorm that evening and therefore the party was subdued. Four men there, tops.

I think she left, but even if she didn't, the lapdance area was free for me and a girl to use all by our lonesome again. I owed the host, *e**, a dance, and in my self-hating state I thought it was time.

She's big, no doubt about it. But that means that her tits are huge and they're natural. I'll take that. It's not as if I can be choosy, anyway.

You can grab breasts here, so that's what I did. What I usually then try to do whenever a dancer allows me that contact is see if I can lick and suck on the nipples. *e** let me do that. Then I go further: I run my hand around her vaginal area and see if I can penetrate her pussy. Well, I don't know how it happened, but as soon as I reach down there my finger slips into something moist and slick. Whoa! I'm in *e**!

And better yet, she didn't tell me to take it out!! Best of all, she started impaling myself on my finger!!! (Actually I don't remember if she did that, but she sure as fuck didn't mind keeping my finger in.) And so I fucking went to town on her twat. I fingerbanged *e**!!!! I think I was even able to reach her clit. Wow, it was so far up in her canal that I think I only was able to graze it. But I tried to hit it, hard and fast and continuously. I don't know if she came. And we did all of that in only one dance.

Now it was my turn. Thank God for the winter snowstorm because all I could hear from the others emanated from the kitchen below. I finally took myself out. *e** was facing away from me. I don't think she ever saw my dick, not when I poked her ass with it. But I think she felt it because she turned around and said, "Let's sit together a little more." For free???

For free!!! She sat on my main vein. Now, she didn't stick it in -- damn! -- but we laid there, naked body to naked body. I held her close and caressed her every fat fold. When that second song was over, I gave her $20, and that was it.

*e** said next week was her birthday. Before I would've been reticent, but if this is the kind of treatment I can expect from her from now on, fuck yeah, I was going! And I did. But I'll leave that for another time because I have other stuff I need to do.

Expenses Without Receipts

Well, now I'm ten days behind. Let's see if I can think my through this:

• We start with Thursday the 1st. After lab work at the U., I went to Uptown to get a ticket for the Minnesota Roller Girls bout. It cost: $11.
• I don't know why I'm going to this New Coffee Place (might as well name it: Diamonds) to the exclusion of most others during the day. I think I'm avoiding My Favorite Coffeehouse (Afternoon Division) because it's too close to home and all the tension and disharmony there. So I'm going there, at least for now. Large mocha and tip only: $4.25.
• Friday: Went to Dairy Queen because it has coupons for free admission to the DQ Classic, last weekend's tournament hosted by the University of Minnesota baseball team. Got the special: $5.
• Drove everywhere Friday -- Grandmother's clinic to Plymouth to retrieve some creamer at the screener job that I forgot when I got done with my project to Minnetonka to look through some porn. Still found time to go back to Diamonds; I was there after I went to the clinic when I remembered my creamer was going to be thrown away if I didn't get by end of business that day. Anyway, a shitty day meant I allowed myself a cookie at Diamonds even though I had Dairy Queen for lunch. With tip: $6.25.
• Bought a hot dog and Coke at the game that evening: $7.75
• Stripclub, coffee and tips: $10.
• Late-Night Coffee Place -- however, I punched my hole card so I got a free drink! Well, I threw in a tip for their work: $1.
• Instead of My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, I stayed in Uptown and went to this pizza place. Good pizza. With tip: $14.50.
• Saturday I went to the Mall of America, just because. My excuse was I was going to the MNRG, so it was kind of on the way. No it wasn't. Stone Cold Creamery, plus tip: $4.50.
• Had a beer at the bout. With tip: $7.50.
• Uh ... strip club? Sure. Tips only: $8.
• Late-Night Italian Place: $11.
• Monday. Diamonds. Mocha and tip only: $4.25.
• Went to the "sex" party that evening. Thank God for ***e*, who squeezed my dick a few times. Needed that to forget. One dance: $20.
• Late-Night Italian afterward: $8.50.
• Tuesday, I returned the favor my friend had given me and I treated him to free passes I got through Entertainment Weekly to see the HBO movie Game Change. (Quick review: Julianne Moore is amazing as Sarah Palin. But is the depiction bad for her? Yes. She's shown as shallow, capricious, dumb and, ultimately, nakedly ambitious. The moments where she improvs something clever, or has tender moments with her family seem to be shoehorned in the story to deflect the criticism that this is a hit piece. It is, but it doesn't matter; I think this is the true story of how Palin acted during the 2008 campaign, and now I'm so fucking glad she didn't become Vice-President.) Anyway, unlike The Theatres At MOA, the theater at Southdale has small-sized popcorn and pop and smaller-sized popcorn and pop, the latter of which is part of a combo. I thought I bought this size when my friend and I were down there for Ghost Rider 2 ... until I saw the size. They're kids'-size, for God's sake. So a small popcorn and Coke: $10.25.
• Wednesday. I don't totally recall, but Diamonds, with mocha, donut and tip: $5.50.
• Got a haircut later. Didn't have money for the cut, but I did have cash for the tip: $2.
• Thursday (Yesterday) I went to use a coupon at Wendy's for their fish combo. It's like I'm observing Lent! Total: $5.02.
• Diamonds: $4.25.
• Friday (Today), Diamonds again: $4.25.
• My Favorite Stripclub. Tips only, and I could skip one dancer because she's a rip-off bitch: $8.
• My Favorite Coffeeshop (Late-Night Version): $5.25.

I think I'm all caught up!