The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Vikings (Last Week: -5).  I had a feeling the Vikes could beat San Francisco last Sunday -- not because I thought they were the better team, but because shit happens in the NFL.  Nevertheless, kudos to the team for defeating what many felt was the best team in the league.  They started out fast, responded to the Niners' attacks, and got timely turnovers at the end of the game to seal the win -- a more-than-one-possession win, at that.

That would have been good even if they lost in Detroit, which I just assumed because, again, it's the NFL.  But they didn't.  They beat the Lions on the road, 20-13.  The game started on a kickoff return for touchdown by Percy Harvin and they never looked back.  Boy, Harvin is making an early case for Offensive MVP Of The Year.  The defense gave up a late touchdown campaign, but they locked the Lions down when they needed to drive all the way again to tie the game.

Two other players to give due recognition: Christian Ponder is getting to be a very good quarterback.  That arcing touch pass to Jerome Simpson on the final Vikings drive was a work of art.  And even though he missed the first field goal of his professional career, Blaine Walsh continues to impress.  He would be the MVP of the team if not for Harvin.

So shit, 3-1!  And they have a great chance to go 4-1 next week at home to The Bastard Houston Oilers.  Is this team for real?

#-2: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -4).  Yeah, this is the bad thing about being late in doing the WMNSS overnight Sunday.  I was so tired that I immediately conked off after getting home around 3.  I woke up at 11:30, masturbated, refilled the fluids in my car, started doing my laundry and tried to sit down and watch football.  But at about 12:41, my folks came home, and My Father charged me to do some tasks around the house.  Tasks, by the way, that were totally unnecessary, tasks like raking leaves when most of them are still hanging on the trees.

So it's just about 3 now.  The Vikings game is just about over, meaning that I will have to talk about two games this survey and not one.  And that screws up next week's WMNSS because I will not have any Vikings game to talk about next week, so I'll have to drop them next week.  Come to think about it, this could affect the week after that because I might forget to put them back into the survey.  Three weeks of surveys affected, just because I didn't do this 12 hours ago.

That affected the U. soccer team.  If I did this half a day ago, I would have said the team went 2-0 to start the home portion of their Big Ten schedule.  But they were at Penn St. this (Sunday) afternoon, #8 Penn St.  It was a shootout, but the Goofs lost, 4-3.  The team actually started off with the lead in the 4th minutes on an own-goal, but the Nittany Lions responded with back-to-back tallies nine seconds apart in the 17th.  Katie Thyken scored to tie, but the Lions took the lead in the 27th and iced it in the 57th.

That loss wipes away two pretty gutsy performances by the side.  Taylor Wodnick scored eight minutes into the game at home to Michigan St. and the team made that stick for their first in-conference win.  Then, against Wisconsin, the Gophers wiped away a 2-0 lead with three second-half goals, the game-winner in the 88th minute (also courtesy of Wodnick), to beat the hated Badgers.

So the footballers stand at 2-3 in the B1G, 7-6 overall.  They play next at Robbie Stadium against Iowa, the second three-game homestand which actually will complete the home portion of their schedule.  And that match's on Sunday ... which means they will not appear on next week's survey, assuming that I will do it before the afternoon.  The ripple effects of doing this so late perpetuate. ...

#-3: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1).  Just like the soccer team, the University of Minnesota volleyball team also went 2-1 for the screening week, the only loss being to ... goddamn ... Penn St.!

Last (Saturday) night I got to the Sports Pavilion late after working the Twins game.  Glad I didn't spend any money on programs, hot dogs or Cokes; I got there and the team was already down two sets and trailing the Nittany Lions in the third.  I was there, oh, 10 or 15 minutes, under what I think is the largest crowd I've ever seen watch a U. volleyball match.  And the Pav was packed to see their team get swept by the #1 team in the country, 23-8-20.  That is the first Big Ten loss for the club, after scoring a four-set win at Northwestern and kicking #22 Ohio St.'s ass in three earlier in the week.

Next up: They finish their four-game, two weekend homestand hosting Michigan Wednesday and Michigan St. Saturday.  Will the team go up or down from their #10 rank in the polls after this week?

#-4: Twins (Last Week: -3).  And speaking of the Twins ... last night showed why I can't pay to see these guys play anymore.  Somehow they kept it close against Detroit Tigers ace Justin Verlander.  But the relievers put two on, and Miguel Cabrera, a man pursuing the Triple Crown but was held hitless to begin the game, licked a meatball from Twins newbie Casey Fein into left, making a manageable 3-0 deficit into a 6-0 rout.  One of the guys working the production said all of us could see this coming.  He was right, even though I didn't believe it.

And yet they somehow made a game of it.  Ryan Doumit smacked a grand slam to make it 6-4, and in the 7th (?) inning the Twinks had runners on the corners and nobody out.  But the club was relying on the bottom third to bring home runs, and Tigers reliever Al Albuquerque managed to freeze another Twink call-up, Pedro Florimon, to end the inning and essentially end any chance for the team to make a comeback.

Pitching has been, by far, the worst part of the Twinks this year.  Starting pitching has been bad, but situational pitching has been worse -- as evidenced by Sunday's afternoon Target Field finale.  It was a sad, pathetic repeat of what the team did the game before.  They held a 1-0 lead late, but Jared Burton coughed up a two-out, two-run, go-ahead dong by Prince Fielder to give them the lead.  They just lost, 2-1, lost the series, 2-1, and evened their screening week at 4-4.

It'll be all over soon, folks ... the pain will be gone.  Three final games as they finish this woeful season, at Toronto.

#-5: Gopher football (Last Week: -2).  A very disappointing 31-13 loss to Iowa to begin Big Ten play and ruin their perfect season. I really thought the team would beat the Hawkeyes, but it looked like they beat themselves in the first half, with turnovers and miscues.  And they couldn't stop this Weisman kid, who ran all over the Goofs.

I thought Max Shortell would fare better as a passer than MarQueis Gray.  But he only passed for 197 yards and threw three interceptions.  Maybe an 85% Gray is better than a 100% Shortell, at least this year.  Regardless, thoughts that the U. could take advantage of a down year and make a run at the Rose Bowl has been tamped down.  This team still has a long way to go.

Their next contest is the Homecoming game against Northwestern -- after they take their bye.  Oh shit, that's now three teams that fall off the WMNSS next week.  Oh well, I should look on the bright side: That's three less teams I have to write about.

You know, the worst thing about my fucking power window going to shit is facing my parents' reaction to seeing it.  My Father has begun raking the leaves in the front yard (even though most of the leaves have not fallen off the trees yet) and I've been working the last six days so I just want to rest on the Western Sabbath.  But I know he will look over at the tape around my rear passenger window, come in, ask me what the hell is going on, make that disgusted face, and think I'm inferior for driving around with my broke-down car.  But what the fuck can I do, at least until next weekend?  Whatever.

Afraid Of My Car Again

So I brought the busted power window to the mechanic around the corner from me -- he's a great guy, but I told him that I'm seeing way too much of him -- in the hopes that they'll give me a quick diagnosis, get in the door panel, lift up the window pane, keep it up there, put it all back, and let me think about what to do next, all within 90 minutes.

It doesn't work that way.  Guess none of it works that way.  They didn't have time to open it up, but they could tape it up.  I didn't want that because then my parents would see tape all over my car, and they'd renew their calls for me to junk my car.  Moreover, he insisted that even if he had the time, he could save me money just by opening the door panel once and fixing it instead of opening it twice, to diagnose now and to fix later.  I wanted to let him know that was OK, but again he was short on time, and if I said I was willing to do it, I was afraid I would come off sounding stupid.  So I shut my mouth and asked him to tape it up.  I'll get it fixed ... oh, some time later.

It was a beautiful tape job, if that makes any sense.  Unfortunately it was blue tape.  I didn't want to fuck with this beautiful craftwork, but it looked too conspicuous.  I just felt that if I left it out in the open one night, some punk would look at the blue tape and decide he was going to undo the tape to see what he could do.  Not to say that clear tape, which I replaced it with last night, would look entirely invisible.  But if some guy looked at my car in passing and didn't notice that there were these weird creases around the window, that might be the time I averted coming back to a broken window, or even a stolen car.

I'm now afraid of it, again, by the way.  I'm afraid of it getting broken into, or breaking down in the highway in the middle of the upcoming winter, like Mother fears.  But you know, I have no logic or evidence to feel that way.  The slight oil drip I see at the bottom of the car?  Gone.  Probably it's because it's less than full.  But they said they were going to seal up the major leaks, and they have.  And even though the transmission works funny from time to time, I keep checking it and it says it's full.  What can I do?  It gets me around, and it gets me around without incident.

It's like someone whose family has a history with cancer being worried about cancer.  If you're afraid of cancer, as if you already have cancer, guess what?  You have cancer.  A phantom diagnosis might as well be the real thing if you're scared of it.  And I'm scared of my car, despite topping the transmission and power steering with fluid, like I did about an hour ago.

I'm going to the U. women's hockey game as they raise their championship banner.  I made a point to park so my bad window is on the street side.  If someone wants to fuck with my car through that window, they might think twice if zooming cars can see it.  Or maybe they won't care.

I Got A "Deal"

I don't mean to demean Direct Buy, but they are not the deal I thought them to be.

In case you don't know, Direct Buy is a place where you can get massive deals on things, mostly furniture and home improvement projects, like siding and landscaping.  I have never bought anything that big, but somehow I was offered to hear a pitch in exchange for getting a deal on a hotel.  I planned on going to St. Louis and thought I could use the deal to scrape some dollars off my trip.

Very early in I knew this wasn't for me.  I wasn't pressured or anything.  I remember back in college I went to this showcase for this company called ... well, I forgot the name.  But they sold products to salesmen including a couple of my friends.  It sounded like a Ponzi scheme, and these guys were giving me the hard sell, a very uncomfortable hard sell.  I said no, and I'm glad I did, because my friends laid out a lot of money, most of which went to the salesmen who got in before them, and I think they lose a fortune.

Direct Buy, especially the guy who owns the area I went to, were actually really nice.  They even accepted the fact that I wasn't going to pay the thousands of dollars over 15 years to be a member.  Instead, they gave me a 30-day trial to buy anything in the store at their rock-bottom prices.  They were so nice I decided to take them up on their offer.  I even missed the finale performance show of So You Think You Can Dance because I couldn't decide on what to buy, even though I thought I would be done before then.

Direct Buy does offer smaller things at wholesale.  I was looking at luggage from Samsonite and Tumi.  But the only thing that I could afford and that made sense were shoes.  Two brands they sold I was interested in. I decided to go with the one that offered the cheapest steel-toed footwear: Wolverine.

I thought I had a steal at $64+.  But afterward I thought I should just check prices out online.  One place sold them real cheap with free shipping.  After going through the checkout, their total was only about a dollar more than what I paid for at Direct Buy.  Well, I guess I got a deal.

But then I did some more digging.  There was another spot, selling the same boots that I ordered through Direct Buy.  With the cut-rate price and free shipping, it turns out that this online seller would have been cheaper ... but about 63 cents, but still cheaper.

I guess the moral of the story is that you only save if you buy big-ticket items, and buy them in bulk.  You basically have to refurbish your entire home to justify the price.

I ordered on the 11th.  I got home about an hour ago and saw my folks left the package on the step.  They look great.  Guess I couldn't gotten them cheaper and sooner, but hey, Direct Buy was nice to me, and I got a free hotel out of it ... unless they have some weird stipulations that I'm not aware of.

If It's Not One Goddamn Thing With My Car, It's Another

It's a relatively warm day, so I bring the rear windows down.  I pull them up as I'm about to get on the on-ramp, then I heard this massive sound from the rear passenger side, as if something hit my car.

I'm worried that there's damage to the outside, but when I finally get to look, I see the rear passenger-side window is down even though I pulled it all the way up.  And when I tried pulling it up again, it didn't budge.

That window is now halfway down, and when I pull on the switch, all I hear is the sound of broken metal pieces rolling around.  I now have to now only spend money but waste time getting that fixed.  And because it's the end of the day, the earliest I can do that is tomorrow after work but before I planned on going to the art museum.

Now I have to leave.  If I come back after my parents, they won't notice that the windows are down and start asking fucking questions.

A Voice From The Past

Oh, shit, what I'm hearing right now is blowing my fucking mind.

I have mentioned in the past that I was in El Paso for six months in 2001 interning for the baseball team.  One of the two announcers of that team that season, one of the two people I essentially worked for the most,  was a lifer.  His first-ever game as professional, in Minor League Baseball, was a perfect game.  He's been toiling in the minors for years.

Well, after I went to the Minnesota History Museum tonight (I went to see the 1934 exhibit, which closes at the end of the month; did you know that one of FDR's New Deal plans to pull the country out of the Great Depression was to pay artists to paint?), I turned on my satellite radio while driving here to Caffetto.  I listened to the end of the Boston Red Sox's loss to Tampa Bay and then turned to the Oakland-Texas game.  I space out, driving and only halfway listening to what at the time was (and still is) a tie game between two teams vying for the playoffs.

But then the voice of the play-by-play starts to seep underneath my brain dermis.  And then I said to myself, "Oh my God, is that (his name here)?!?!?!"  And the more I listen, the more that voice sounds familiar.

Wow, this guy made the big time.  I know that he left El Paso several years after my internship for a better situation in, I think, Corpus Christi.  That is the AA affiliate of the Houston Astros.  But somehow he got called up to do games for the Rangers.  I've learned that to move up in the tough, competitive business of broadcasting, you have to take advantage of every opportunity, and he got his after one of the commentators on the radio side, Dave Barnett, was struck with aphasia during a game, which made him speak gibberish, and "decided" to take a sabbatical.

And you know what?  He's good, damn good.  He was great in El Paso, and he's doing great for the Rangers.  Now, we had our screaming matches when I worked for him 11 years ago, but really, on the whole, he treated me very well, and I consider him to be someone to emulate if I ever get back into sports on a serious level.  And so I am very, very happy for him that he finally, after almost, what, three decades surviving in the business, got his call-up to the Big Show.  Hope he sticks.

I Am Surrounded By Assholes

This weekend pissed me off and reinforced my dim view of humanity and social situations.  I don't want to say I was hurt, but fuck, I so want to just cuddle up in my bed and sleep the day away -- moreso now than ever.

---

So we had to scramble to find a spot for my alum's college football game Saturday.  The place we go to has DirecTV, which does not have the Pac-12 Network.  But Dish Network does, so we were scrambling around to find a place.  But the president of the club finally did, and he told me where to go and what we reserved.

Except that this place did not have any record of such a reservation.  So we were shunted to a part of the restaurant that did show the game, but without any sound.  Per restaurant policy, they piped in music all night.  So we were treated to a solid yet uneventful victory while Sugar Ray and the Bee Gees were playing. All 30 of us enjoyed as much as we could.

But my problem was this father-son duo all decked out in our colors.  They got there before we did.  They seemed to be cool until the father decided that I was crossing his view of the TV one too many times, and so he told me to get out of the way.  "Sorry, I didn't think the game was that important to you," and this motherfucker started swearing at me.  We're rooting for the same team, asshole!

This prick tried to defend the place: "They've done a lot for us.  They're letting us watch the game."  What, so we have to suck their dicks because they lost our reservation?  Then my friend got in a good zinger: "Thank you for speaking for all of us."  I don't know what he said next, but I hope it was good, because this Judas son-of-a-bitch responded by giving him the finger.  In front of his son.  And we're wearing the same colors, goddamn you.

This greasy jagoff (seriously, he was wearing an open shirt so that the air could bump around every single one of his disgusting chest hairs -- John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever called, he wants his look back) took off when the game was salted away, but just in case I stepped over to the window to see him drive off in his Nissan.  So at least I got this rude and disrespectful piece of shit's license plate: RZE 820.  I got you now, motherfucker.

Nonetheless, I am ashamed that I didn't do more to defend my friend.  I just shook my head, sat down and made sure I didn't get in his way.  But if I were more of a man -- really, if I were a man, period -- I would've gotten in his face, or grabbed him by his hirsute fucking chest and beat the shit out of him.  This rude douchebag deserved it, especially after disrespecting me and my friend, all of whom wanted the same thing this fuckface did.  God, I want to fuck with him so bad.

---

I help out production for Vikings and Twins games.  I keep saying that I keep working there because a) it's sports and b) it's the only "job" that justifies my broadcast journalism degree.  I have thought from time to time that I would love to do this for a career.  But I forget the stress that continually goes on during a game.  And it took this Sunday's victory for me to say fuck this, I don't want to do this anymore.

The first step up to work behind the scenes is as a broadcast assistant.  He is the one who decides what graphics and statistics pop up on-screen.  It's a great job, and while it's the lowest rung on the ladder, you have great influence on how you are informed over the course of the game.  (I work as a game statistician, keeping rack of a few things that the production crew, especially the B.A., believe will be important for that game.)

However, he or she is at the mercy of the producer of the game.  He sits in the other truck, and he decides how the viewer will see the game.  And without fail, every single time I work with this network, the producer of that crew, regardless of what it is, is an denigrating asshole.  Screaming, belittling, withholding information and being a jackass, he without fail is the definition of an abusive prick.

The guy on Sunday wasn't the worst, but he's the one that convinced me I can't do this job.  My B.A. was great, although new.  He treated all of us with respect.  The same couldn't be said of the producer.  The breaking point for me was the time he flipped out because the B.A. thought he had to tee up the score instead of Adrian Peterson's run stats, and after yelling at him to change the fucking graphic to show Peterson's numbers, he screamed, "YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO SHOW!!!"  All the B.A. did was talk back at a bully, and he pulled rank on him, he put him in what supposed to be was his place and state that he was above him and could break him if he wanted.

If I were in his situation, I would do what the B.A. did and apologize -- at the time.  But then that incident would fester in my soul, and then I would talk back to him after the game was over.  Or threaten him back.  Or tell him to go fuck himself.  Or spit in his face.  Anything to show that I won't be knuckled under his thumb.  I would probably be fired, but at that point I wouldn't care.  I'd be standing up for my principles, and that is more important to me than any job.

And without needing to make that decision in the heat of the job, I think that's the way to go.  Life's too short to work under abusive assholes.  And maybe that's why I don't want to work.  Any job you are probably going to work under an abusive asshole.  So why I would submit to that shit when I could get up when I want to, do whatever the fuck I want, and not need to put up with someone putting me down?  If that means I go broke or don't have the luxuries those who decide to tolerate the abuse, so be it.  I consider that to be a way to maintain a good quality of life.

At the very least what happened Saturday has dissuaded me from seriously looking for a job in journalism, or at least live sporting events.  I would love to be in the business, but not if it means submitted myself to bastards like this producer.  And since guys like him are everywhere, not just in televising sports, that I would rather not work.  So my good reason to prefer unemployment was justified.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -4).  The Big Ten season started off well for the 12th-ranked U., sweeping #20 Illinois, 17-17-23, in Champaign.  I don't know how they did it, but maybe it's Hugh McCutcheon.  I wish I had more to say, but I have to go home soon.  The team has a busy week: They play at Northwestern this (Sunday) afternoon, then come back to the Sports Pavilion to play Ohio St. Friday and Penn St. Saturday.

#-2: Gopher football (Last Week: -1).  I'm still kind of chafed that one of their wins is against second-division New Hampshire, but yesterday's (Saturday's) 17-10 victory at home over Syracuse may signal an important building block in the Jerry Kill Era: This is a BcS program (albeit the Big East, which won't be BcS in a couple years) with some historical renown, and the Gophers were able to defend TCF Bank Stadium.  It wasn't pretty; Max Shortell stepped in under center for MarQueis Gray and went 16-30-231, and Donnell Kirkwood provided the critical scoring with two touchdowns on 99 yards.  But they kept their heads and were able to go 4-0 for the first time since 2008.

And there's a good chance they can start the season 5-0; next weekend they play on the road against an Iowa team that got upset by Central Michigan at home yesterday (Saturday) and are not playing well at all.

#-3: Twins (Last Week: -5).  A 2-3 screening week.  They did not avoid the sweep at Target against Chicago, but then responded by almost sweeping Cleveland.  There are only two goals left on the season: Avoid 100 losses and finish out of the AL Central basement.  They are only one win from being able to tank the rest of the year and get only 99 defeats, and they are nip-and-tuck with the Indians for the cellar.

But it doesn't help that they're in Detroit for the weekend, a team still chasing the White Sox for the division.  They got rocked 8-0 yesterday (Saturday).  They have a doubleheader today (Sunday) because Friday's game was rained out.  They then come home to host the annual Yankees three-game series -- I wonder how many Yankees fans are going to populate otherwise-empty Target Field -- and those same Tigers.  It's almost over, folks.

#-4: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  Lost at home to Michigan on a defensive fuck-up.  Apparently a backpass to Goalie Cat Parkhill was errant, and the Goofs were playing Keystone Kops trying to get the ball back.  They failed, and Wolverine Forward Nkem Ezurike tapped home the chippie.  They held on to defeat the U., 1-0.  Not good to lose that way.  At least I'm glad I decided not to go to the game.  They finish out their three-game homestand this week -- Michigan St. this (Sunday) afternoon, Wisconsin Thursday.

#-5: Vikings (Last Week: -2).  They had it.  Not only could they have defeated Indianapolis for the first time in ages, but they could be sitting on top of the NFC North (albeit only two games in).  But defensive breakdowns at the end of both halves allowed Andrew Luck to drive down the field for a bad touchdown (in the first half) and the game-winning field goal (in the second).  I am more satisfied that the game is slowing down for Christian Ponder, but now it's the defense that everybody should be worried about.  Luck is going to be good, but the Vikes D made him look like a Hall of Famer now.

So why can't they beat San Francisco this (Sunday) afternoon?  Well, they won't.  But it's the NFL, so why the hell not dream?

300 The Hard Way

Well, I made it.  I made 300 claims.  Don't know how.  Once again I started out hot, but then faded fast as I tried to fix all the claims I had questions on.

I cannot take a breath.  I was able to go to lunch with 200, but even then I couldn't relax.  Not only did I skip lunch, I didn't take my whole 30 minutes and resumed working about five minutes early.  If I didn't do that, I don't think I would've made it.  How can my supervisor say that we'll clear 300 easily?  I ain't no chump, come on!

And leaving yesterday I still didn't think I kept my job.  The job is only going to get more complex with different circumstances I'll have to type for.  So I turned on my phone to field any calls from the temp agency, just like they did late Thursday afternoon.  And because I once got a call from this agency past 7 o'clock, I was prepared for them to say, "Well, your employment has been terminated" even up to 10.

Even though a part of me wanted to get up and go once I got home and saw that my parents started eating early without me, I decided to stay home.  Good thing, because I fell asleep, with the phone on, around 9 or 9:30.  I woke up this morning, not by a call from the agency.

Guess that means I have a job through Monday, maybe Tuesday.  After that. ...

My Measurements (As Of High School, I Think)

I am home alone with My Father, and we just got into a fight over giving him the contract for a remodeling job that didn't get completed (maybe I should talk about that).  So just to say that I'm doing shit, I'm kind of cleaning up my room.

There is a bag of papers I've wanted to go through.  And lo and behold, in that bag is a list of measurements.  I've asked them from time to time over my lifetime because you always want to know the proper size of the shirt or pants that you need to buy.

I think this set is one where I asked the wardrobe girl when I was an usher to take and write them down.  And here they are, just in case I lose this piece of paper again:

• Waist: 30 1/2 (has to be a lot more -- I now wear at least 34" pants)
• Chest: 33
• Neck: 14
• Outseam: 40
• Sleeve: 32 1/2

I Will Be Fired Tomorrow

Well, I will be if I don't churn out more work.  But I don't know how I can, since I busted my ass today.

It's a pretty shitty feeling that began on the good foot in the morning and then, for some fucking reason, went downhill.  I was going good going through those forms.  But then I was going back and correcting some things, and before you know it, I finished behind.  I don't know what hit me.

What I do know is that my boss is telling me that I have to work fast while getting everything right.  I don't know if he understands the inherent contradiction, but you can't do both, especially when we're just getting up to speed on this shit.  Moreover -- and I might as well say this while I still have bullets in the chamber -- he threw on our laps a lot of shit that we don't understand, and he did a piss-poor job of instructing us on what to do.  In fact, there are a lot of exceptions that we will need to keep in mind, and that's gong to bog me down, and that will hurt production ... and apparently that will mean I will lose my job.

Yesterday my supervisor just wished we got close to production as possible.  But then, as I was exiting the local Barnes & Noble, I surreptitiously took out my cellphone while it was lighting up (I put it on silent and took it out of my hip pocket to check if anybody left a voicemail).  It was my contact at the temp agency.  We traded hellos and how-ya-doin's, but as soon as I saw the Caller ID I knew what this call was going to be about: Better fucking do what we say or you're fired.

What hurts -- and I can't say that it's untrue, only that I tried as hard as I could -- is that he pointed out that I was on pace to meet my mark but then tailed off in the afternoon.  I wonder if that's going to damage my reputation more than just not producing what I need to produce.  I can just imagine the talk my contact had with my supervisor -- he decided to get a flu shot, he started to eat at his desk, he started to lose focus once I gave him back the incomplete files, blah-blah-fucking-blah.  You know, I guess I didn't heed his advice: I just did all the stuff that I got, to the best of my ability, without a mistake.  I mean, what's the use of doing this shit fast if it's all wrong?  That's what I was trying to avoid.

But now I'm under the gun.  And the worst thing about all of this is I think I already have a black mark against me that I can't wash off.  And my fucking God, I can't even fucking wait to see my boss open the door for me tomorrow morning.  That's going to be the most fucking awkward hello ever.

I guess I'll have to work through lunch.  I got a free bottle of 5-Hour Energy, and shit, I might as well use it if I need to meet the numbers.  But fuck it, it might be too late.  I could pump out 600 and it might be too late.  I'll get the same motherfucking call I got at the same time tomorrow, only this time telling me I've been let go, and I don't give a shit if I'm in a public space, I will Fucking.  Lose.  My.  Goddamn.  Mind.  This is such bullshit.  All I'm trying to do is the right thing, and this threat basically warns me that it'll take a goddamn miracle for me to keep this job.

And I need this job, too.  I have to pay the car repair bill, and I was depending on this job to pay it off.  I planned on logging onto my laptop and getting off of unemployment today; can't do that anymore, since I might be out on my ass tomorrow.  I also wanted to buy a Walkman so I could listen to The Common Man during lunch through it instead of turning on my car and draining the battery.  But what's the use of a Walkman if I don't need to use it?  All of this happened because of that goddamn call, that goddamn warning.

This is just utter bullshit.  I don't know what to do.

More Thoughts About The Job

You know, if you keep saying there are no dumb questions, and then I ask you something that I don't understand, and you give me attitude and give me a "no" with tone, you're saying it's a dumb question.  That's the big takeaway I'm taking away from my job so far.

But the thing is, I really don't think he's an out-and-out asshole. Sometimes he does talk to me respectfully.  And he does give us food, which is really good.  Wow, I think I just made him out to be like Ike Turner.  I didn't mean it like that.  But who knows later on in the assignment?

He mentioned once during the day that I was sighing really loudly.  I didn't even realize that.  He said it jokingly, but seeing how he's kind of lying about saying there are no dumb questions, I'm sure he was telling me I was pissing him off.

I was sighing for a lot of reasons, but most of all because of the work.  He plopped down on our laps a bunch of information, too much for me to digest.  But we have a quota to hit every day, and today I did not hit that, even though I was really trying.  I have at most till Friday to get up to speed fast enough, otherwise I am fired.

I just read an e-mail from my friend.  After what seemingly was several years, he was either let go or fired from his job.  I don't know how much it paid, but it looked like it was stable, and it sustained him.

I just went with him to the Lynx game Monday.  We even talked about the temp assignment I started last week.  Fucking ironic.

Worst of all, he is not young, and he isn't in the best of health.  Goddamn, why did his employer do this?  More importantly, what can he do now?

More Changes Coming At Work

I actually like my work situation right now.  Since it's a temp job, what I look for is the work environment and the people I work for and with; if I'm at least tolerating both, I can keep it.  And I like both.  Although my supervisor seems to be overbearing when he wants to be, he has largely left us alone.  That means I can do what I want so long as I am working, and so far, I believe he is happen.  Also, a co-worker started on the same day as me, and he's the perfect co-worker: Personable when we do have a conversation, but that's unusual; otherwise he puts his headphones and listens to his iPhone.

So I guess I am overreacting more than I should when I hear that there's going to be a third guy joining us, a guy who did our jobs last year.  How is that going to change our cozy, quiet dynamic?  It feels like there's someone coming between us at work ... and after typing that, I just creeped myself out.

Also we are going to finally get down to the nitty-gritty and actually do the thing we were hired to do.  That means that he can't leave us alone; instead he will be in the room with us instead of in his own office, holding our hand through stuff.  I hope both I and he can deal with the excruciating babysitting.

More Signs About The Store

With all the shit I need to do fucking tomorrow (call this, sign that, scan those, check the car, etc.), The Store did not cross my mind.  But it did tonight.

For some fucking reason My Fucking Father knocked loudly on my door.  He was looking at his smartphone and being quite impatient with this correspondence with this art museum he wants to donate his pieces to.  And I'm going, I already e-mailed these people twice.  Why don't you fucking hold your horses?  I told them you were going to be out of town this past week; maybe they're waiting until this week to message you back?

But then I thought, Why are you trying to move these art pieces?  And then I remembered that they wanted to take a road trip to Vegas.  And they weren't going to do that until ... ahem ... they're "done" with The Store.  And they can't be done with her until they move those art works.  I think that's what he meant.

I've had the luxury of still seeing them go to "work," even if they're not really going to work.  That might be gone soon -- both The Store and having the space to breathe because they're not at home 24/7.  All of this might be going sideways on me, and very, very soon.

The kicker: While in his agitated state he forgot to shut the door he opened.  I told him to shut it, only be told by him, "You should get up.  You shouldn't be in bed watching TV."  So you know what I did?  Stayed on my bed and watched TV until I fell asleep.  Take that, ya dumb asshole.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher football (Last Week: -3).  They had to hold on for dear life, but they outlasted Western Michigan, 28-23, to start off the season 3-0 for the first time in four years.  Sure, one of those victories is against second-division New Hampshire, but you take your victories where you can get them.

But in the wake of the win may be a quarterback controversy.  MarQueis Gray was knocked out late in the first half.  Max Shortell replaced him and led two touchdown drives to give the Gophers a 21-10 lead at the half.  His pass to Tight End Drew Goodger in the third was the winning score.

MRI is coming for Cray, but he was seen on the sideline with a wrap on his left knee and a boot on his left foot.  For a "mobile" quarterback, you can't effectively come back from that quickly.  Till then, what can Shortell do?  The controversy is based on that old pro-style vs. mobile QB debate that never dies.  Gray probably is the most dynamic player on the team, yet he has never been a good fit for the system that has been deployed for him, first by Tim Brewster and now by Jerry Kill.  It doesn't help that he isn't as talented an overall QB like Cam Newton was, but that may be moot now that he's hobbled, probably for a few weeks.  The offense probably has to orbit around Gray, but can they score more now that they have Shortell, who seems to be better equipped to be a pocket passer?

We'll see next Saturday night.  Syracuse isn't a great team, but they are in a BcS conference (for now they're in the Big East; next year they'll be in the ACC), so I still think this is a step up in competition.  My goodness, could the Goofs actually go 4-0?

#-2: Vikings (Re-Entry!).  I was working the season opener against Jacksonville Sunday.  Both teams suck, so I had a feeling the game was going to be close.

I was out running an errand, and I was listening to the game on the car radio.  I pulled up just as the Jaguars made that Hail Mary late in the game, and I was able to see the successful two-point conversion that put them up by three.  "Well, another collapse for the ViQueens," I said to myself.

So understand my surprise when Christian Ponder was able to throw two long passes to get the team in field goal range with seconds left in regulation.  And when Blaine Walsh nailed that long FG to send the game into overtime, it forever shut the door of Ryan Longwell coming back to Minnesota.  Good thing, too, because he was able to make good on the winning field goal.

By the way, it was interesting to see the new OT rules in play, and it was fun to be the first game ever to implement its use.  The game did not end with a score, but instead with a busted fourth down incompletion by Jacksonville QB Blaine Gabbert.  Closing the deal on that, by the way, was less good Viking defense than the Jaguars just being horrible.

But hey, they got the win.  And they could go 2-0 today (Sunday) at Indianapolis.  Andrew Luck will be good, but not this year.  Plus the Colts have a below-average Wide Receiver corps and very weak line play. In fact, there's a good chance they could lead the NFC North Division by the end of the day!

#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -2).  At the same time the Vikes were trying to outlast the Jaguars, the U. soccer team had little trouble handling DePaul in the back game of their Minnesota Gold Classic tournament. Well, maybe it was just one player handling the Blue Demons: Taylor Uhl, the striker who accounted for all the scoring in a decisive 3-0 victory.  Those are her 9th, 10th and 11th goals of the young year, after tallying 15 all of last year.  Is it preposterous to think that Uhl should at least get a tryout with the U.S. Women's National Team?

So the U., who are currently at 5-3, start Big Ten play at Ohio St. today (Sunday).  And they will do it wearing new uniforms -- horizontal-striped jerseys, with home maroon and road white shorts.  It was supposed to come before the season began, but because Mikki Denney Wright "left" the school, they held off on a uniform change until after the university decided to name Stefanie Golan Head Coach.  They come home to face Michigan Friday.

#-4: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1).  I am worried.  The Goofs participated in the Golden Hurricane Classic, probably the best tournament of what was a relatively weak weekend, but it featured three ranked teams.  And although they were the highest-ranked of those teams (reaching tenth in the AVCA poll on the strength of their split at Texas) they lost to one of them, 19th-ranked Kansas St.  It was a tight five-setter, but that they lost to not only a lower-ranked team but the only one in a BcS conference, means that they will drop in the polls.  It also adds credence to my belief that they are in a tier of really good teams that are in no way a championship contender.  And so the Gophers, 9-2 overall, start their conference schedule at Illinois Friday

#-5: Twins (Last Week: -4).  Hey Liriano, was it too fucking much to fucking ask you to pitch as well as you did against the Twinks Saturday more consistently when you here?  Trevor Plouffe broke up his no-hit bid with two outs in the sixth, but he still picked up the win, going seven innings and striking out nine.  Another loss in a week where they went 3-4, two of those victories by only one run.  On the bright side, they need to win only three more times to avoid 100 losses.  They try to avoid being swept at home today (Sunday) in the final game of their homestand, then travel to Cleveland and Detroit.

#-6: Wild (Re-Entry!).  Because last night (Saturday) at 11, the National Hockey League is in a lockout.  Which means that the season won't start on time.  Which means that Mild fans will not get to see their shiny new players, Zach Parise and Ryan Suter, until December or the New Year -- if at all.  Minnesota is one of those teams that cannot afford a work stoppage because a) Craig Leipold still has to pay these guys money without getting any sort of production or return on investment on them, and b) this team could use all the momentum they can get.  They come in with a huge amount of buzz, but that has just be flooded over by off-the-ice issues.

By the way, this is the third lockout in Gary Bettman's tenure -- a black mark, if you think about it.  Worse yet, the NHL Players Union is being headed by the notoriously bellicose Donald Fehr, a man who has no hobbies beyond getting players to strike (and eating; my God, he's a fatass).  Two intractable personalities means a long wait -- and thus no team for the State of Hockey.

Oh, I am so fucking pissed off right now that my team lost.  I cannot fucking believe it.  I ... I ... I am so upset right now I could murder someone.  So goddamn mad that they were upset, again.  Oh, I am motherfucking pissed off right now. ...

Car Leaking Again

Just went outside to walk to Taco Bell after falling asleep at 9:30 or so last night to pay back the sleep debt I accumulated since starting my new assignment Wednesday.  Instinctively I looked underneath my car, the car that was in traction for three days because it was leaking all over.

And it was leaking again.  I even saw a drop drop from its undercarriage.  This despite coming home a bit after 6 last night.

Now, I know the mechanic around the corner did not fix everything; it just cost too much.  And I should have asked him on Thursday before I took back the car if I would still see fluids dripping down to the driveway.  I am under no illusion that my car is perfectly "fixed."  But he said all the leaks in the engine (oil is the fluid that's dripping down) are sealed up.  I didn't think I would have to worry about that, at least.  But now I do.

Have to talk to the guy tomorrow.  What would be the worst possible scenario is that he didn't guarantee that nothing else would be leaking.  I brought the car in in the first place because the mess was ruining my parents' driveway.  After $1,100 it still doing that?  Why the fuck did I try to get it fixed then?

Did I Give The Wrong Impression?

1) Called Mother in Laughlin.  Told me to do so if a letter from the state that she expected came while she was on vacation.

Won't divulge details, but it has something to do with Mother's efforts to collect unemployment.  After I helped her logon to her account, she asked me, "So, we should wait, right?"

Now, she doesn't know that I'm on the dole.  She'd lose her shit if she did.  But for some fucking reason she thought I was an expert because she asking me what she should do.  This is so unlike her, deferential to the point of being needy.  To me she has always been in control -- even if she didn't have the wisdom to be in control -- so begging for advice and following my lead is something that she doesn't do often.

However, she has done it, and her passive-aggressive way of blaming me when something I helped her with goes wrong -- "You say that ..." is often the first thing that comes out her mouth when she's yelling at me for something like this -- despite my limited information and need to please her has gotten me burned many times.  That's why I instinctively reacted to her pleas by saying, "I don't know!"

And so began the most pathetic mother-son call-and-response ever, with her repeatedly asking me to tell her what to do and me not taking any responsibility for any of it.  She used the "Well, you're looking at the screen now!  Tell me what it says!" card, and so I just got tired of her bullshit, put my cellphone on speaker, put it down, and started reading the whole goddamn thing from the start in a loud voice to her.

After I got halfway through the warnings and messages, I thought I heard a dead line.  But after a few seconds of not saying anything, I heard her go, "Yeah?"  Maybe she was listening, or thinking, or (which is very weird) interrupting what I was saying to her in order to talk to My Father about what she should do.  Seriously, asking Father what to do when it comes to unemployment is worse than asking me, because I'm pretty certain he has no fucking idea what's going on.

So just as I was about to resume reading the rest of the screen, Mother stopped begging me to tell her whether to proceed or stop and she just made the decision to not do anything until she gets home.  And I breathed a sigh of relief that she now can't hang any mistake to this situation on me.

Of course, she could remember the argument we had an say that's a violation of The Fucking Contract and get me thrown out.

2) Went to the Walker (about 90 minutes after I wanted to, got busy) to see an exhibition about '80's art.  Had about 75 minutes to go through it.  Seeing as I needed more than three hours for the Rembrandt exhibit closing at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts Sunday (go see this; one of the most important painters of all time, and you probably won't get to see many of his best art works ever again), there was no way I was going to get through to the end.

At about 8:58, one of the guys/docents (?) walks up to me and says, in a very, very nice way, "Sorry, but we're going to have to close."  To which I remember reacting by shrugging and leaving.

Now, I was only trying to say, "Well, I wish I could have stayed, but I understand."  But what in the hell is a shrug?  I think he probably took it as me being a dick, me going, "Well, fine, thanks for not letting me finish looking at the art, asshole."  I should have just said thanks, or even given a simple nod.  But a shrug denotes displeasure, and all this guy was doing was his job.  If I wanted to get through the whole thing, I should have gotten to the Walker earlier.  But I really think I gave off the impression that I was angry at him.  And I regret that.

---

By the way, one of the reasons I ran late to the Walker was because I actually got the car back today, one day earlier than I thought.  I think I remember the mechanic say that there are still leaks, especially in the transmission, but because the engine apparently is all sealed up and they tried their best with the tranny leaks, I now think my car is brand new, which is 180 degrees away from how I dreaded getting into it before I brought it in.  Moreover, even though I just dropped a grand on it (through my credit card, of course), I literally feel like a million bucks, so much so that I decided I could afford going to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division), even though I balked at getting a dance.  Putting things behind you really is a great way of brightening your outlook ... even though it doesn't change your reality a single bit.

So far, so good.  My first day at work and the (so far) two people I work for and with are pretty nice and smart.  Bad news: I was told by my supervisor that the projected end date is about a month sooner than what I was led to believe by my temp agency.

What also sucks is the early start time.  My supervisor seems to allow some flexibility once I demonstrate I know what I'm doing.  Till then, it's 7 a.m. for me -- which will suck Friday, when I plan to take the bus.

Why am I taking the bus?  The car will probably still be in the shop.  That's OK, though, because I didn't get a panicked call today saying that there has been a complication.  Bad news: That doesn't mean that something shitty can't happen tomorrow.

And by the way, why in the fuck is gas four bucks a goddamn gallon here in the Twin Cities?  It's after Labor Day, so the gas prices are supposed to go down.  Instead, and I mean this, this is the highest they have ever been (although it's been at $3.999/gal once before).  What the fuck?  Seriously, what the fuck???

The Verdict On My Car Is ...

... not good.  But I can drive it still!

I was at the Rembrandt exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts for almost three hours.  I feel good that I was able to enjoy artwork for such an afternoon, but I was afraid the mechanic around the corner left a message for me about a couple hours after I dropped off the car this morning and is now waiting for me to call back.

So I decided to not wait any longer, and around a quarter after 3 I turn on my phone.  They did not leave a voicemail, which is surprising, so now I'm under the gun and I need to know how they're doing.

Got the person I talk to, who said he was just about to look for quotes ... and basically, if I got everything fixed, it would cost more than what the car is worth.  There are six big leaks, three in the transmission and three in the engine.  The most important priority, a bolt in the differential/transmission, is so bad that it might need to be replaced entirely, which, from how they insinuate it, would be at least two grand.  Well, fuck that, and fuck all the other leaks.

But the oil leaks ... you know, my parents are gone till the weekend, and if a reasonable amount can get rid of all the leaks of oil, that would finally stop all the drippings on the driveway, which was the reason I brought my car in in the first place.  He immediately told me those options, indicating that there was so merit to just fixing the engine.

He needed to hang up and get back to me.  When he did, he presented me with a plan: Fix all the oil leaks except for the sensor, which would cost $500 to get a new one, so they're just going to seal the leak.  (Bad news: I won't be able to use the oil level sensor to see when my oil is getting low.)  Meanwhile, they're going to do their damndest to "silicone" the bolt so it'll slow the leak.  Best of all, the total price of just doing this is going to be some amount lower than a grand, which is what I thought I would have to charge on my card.

Now, the bad news:

• There might be some fittings close to the radiator that would just be better to fix right then and there, which would add $150 and $200.
• I will have to watch the transmission like a hawk.
• This might not be done by Thursday, which means I will have to take the bus to my new job (which I start in ... oh, six hours), and that'll take years to get to on Friday.
• There is a chance that the radiator itself needs replacing.  If that's the case, all this gets blown out of the water.  I cannot pay more than what I'm paying, at least for now.  And the more I think of it, the more afraid that that is exactly the monkey wrench that'll fuck me over.

And yet I feel a little better than I did before.  First of all, even though I still have my doubts, I am encouraged that these guys understand that I'm in a bind, and they're doing all they can to get this car limping around and functional.  Second, there is something to be said about certainty.  Before today I didn't know how bad it was going to be.  Now I do, and not only is it ... uh, OK (at least when it comes to sealing up the engine), in some ways it was not as bad as I feared.  Of course, things could totally change tomorrow.  Yep, they could change tomorrow.

Need to shower and prepare for work at ... fuck, seven in the morning?

Addendum To: You Just Put Me Under The Spot Here, And Maybe I'm Not As Quick On My Feet As I Should Be -- OK?!?!?! You Win, OK?!?!?!

Never mind.  Got the job.  Starts tomorrow.  Would rather have some time, but I need the money more.

What I didn't see in my previous blog post is that I realized something very simple while I was inveighing through how am I going to get there and what do I have to change on my schedule: Why don't I use my parents' car?  I should get it back before they and my car come back.  And they'll understand.  You know, my parents understand a lot.  Not everything, and we disagree on some of the most important things, but they understand a lot.

Oh, by the way ... I feel bad that the anniversary of 9/11 isn't foremost on my mind.  I can't believe that it's now been 11 years since that happened.  God, how time flies. ...

You Just Put Me Under The Spot Here, And Maybe I'm Not As Quick On My Feet As I Should Be -- OK?!?!?! You Win, OK?!?!?!

You know, I'm sorry to hedge.  I didn't know you were going to give it to me like that so quickly.  How about three weeks, like you said?  Maybe even a week?  But OK, I'm sorry that I decided later, and then now.  You sounded so fucking disappointed, like you lost your commission, and I can't have that, so I fucking changed my mind, OK?

And now you're saying that I'm "under consideration" for it?  You mean I blew my chance?  You go from offering me a position that starts this week to maybe getting this same position two weeks from now?  And all because of me going "uh ... uh" and my car?

Is it because I told you I had a family function on Friday?  Do you think I was lying to you?  I have car trouble, OK?  And I'm kind of anxious about it.  And yeah, I could use the money I would get from starting early, and you told me there were rolling start times, but all of a goddamn sudden you're hitting me over the head with starting this week.  What the fuck was I supposed to do?

Things were going so well.  Then, in the course of one fucking afternoon, I go from finally finding employment to being stuck in the same shit place I was before.  And now I have to toss and turn, waiting for a call that'll wake me up in the morning with the possibility that I will still remain jobless.  Plus I have to bring my car in for an estimate that'll probably be more than what the car is worth.  I thought I would at least be able to pay for it some time soon.  But because you ask me to start now, I might not start ... at all.

Fuck my life.

Just Want To Get Home

Three segments of driving today.  Three times I needed to start my car and face what gremlins and destruction and loss of freedom my car would throw at me.  At least I'm armed to the teeth to fight back against its temperamental alter egos -- oil, transmission fluid, coolant, my brother's height stick, and funnels.  And unbeknownst to my car, I put them all in the back of it.  It's like I'm using itself against itself!

I woke up this morning at 6 because I had to get to the Vikings game by 7.  I check underneath and ... what do my eyes fall upon?  Are there now two puddles?  Couldn't be, the second is an oil slick from the time I parked the car a few inches more to the left.  Besides, I had to get to work.  I did, however, go through on my plan to toss some more oil into the engine before I left.  For the life of me I have no idea how much is in there, whether it's enough, or whether there's too much.

But it drives fine ... well, until I hit downtown, where I get the fucking dreaded "second sound" again.  First time I hit a red light I hear this accompanying noise to the engine.  Hope it's not serious, which of course means it is.

I was given a free pass to park right across from the street from the Dome.  It's in a ramp, so many of the spaces are tilted.  I remember that parking it nosing down on a hill spills less oil (or at least less oil that hits the ground, which means it may not be much of a difference), so that's how I want to position my car.  But the ramp is pitched so high that finding level spaces, let alone nose-down ones, are scarce.  On the other hand, I planned on putting some tranny fluid in my car before driving out after the game, just because.  Maybe getting a level space is best.  Oh, who cares, let me just get one that doesn't tip my car any which way more than 45 degrees.  So even though nearly all of the spaces are available because the game wouldn't start for another five hours, I find one that's only slightly nose-up.

---

Two segments of driving left.  No, wait.  The car is driving fine -- no loud cranking sounds, no shift hesitation, no gushing leaks underneath -- my "job" at the U.'s MRI center doesn't start till 6, and I haven't been to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) in a long time.  You know what?  I'm going.  Won't get a dance, therefore I will still be under my $14-or-so daily budget of spending money.  So yeah, three segments of driving left.

Waling back to the car I see a mess down there -- not a big one, but a shallow one, and a conspicuous one, too.  Moreover, it looks like it didn't come down from just one place, but two.  Oh, fuck.

I thought about skipping the stripclub after I felt my energy drop at some point during the game.  Maybe I should just take a nap in the passenger seat before going to my other job.  I won't be able to fall asleep in the tube because the guy will make me hold my breath the whole time.  But then I knew I would be worried about the car, specifically propping up the hood.  It has hydraulics that are completely shot; I haven't changed them out, and so I'm using a measuring stick my brother made when he was in pre-Kindergarten.  But you never know; maybe I would try to put the transmission fluid in because of this mess I saw, but somehow the pitch and/or yaw of the car would knock the stick off from under the hood, and the hood would fall on the back of my head and break my neck.  What a way to go.

I thought about all of that when I tried napping in the car anyway, and yes, I gave up after ten minutes.  And instead of doing something under the car, I just went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) and decided to do it on their level pavement.

I'm glad I went.  I saw ******e, a fat chick whom I showed my dick to.  Wanted to talk to her, but she was there with her boyfriend/sugar daddy.  Hope to see her again -- and show her my dick again.

The waitress-cum-stripper working as a waitress that day, ***i, was there, too, and we could finally clear the air as to why she unfriended me from facebook.  It was because I had friended so many models and liked too many of their pictures, and she has a daughter who might see those in the second degree (clicking on her page, then clicking on mine).  It's not because she was offended, and that makes all the difference.  I totally understand. I just couldn't stay away from liking hot girls' pics after facebook shut down my Unforgivable Wetness account.  I might need to do something about that.

Saw ***a for the first time in a long time.  Wanted to tip her, but 1) I didn't have enough singles and 2) I got caught up finishing ***i's game at those barside machines, you know?  Oh well, after ***a got done with  her stageset she came up to me, gave me a hug, and wished me luck at work that night.  Ah. ...

I then saw ****i for the first time in a long time -- Korean-looking chick with baggy eyes but tremendous (fake) boobs.  She referred to me as her "brother from another mother."  I wish she wouldn't say that, seeing as, you know, she rolled up her Adrian Peterson jersey to show off said boobs.  I heard ****i once did one of ***i's parties.  I would totally take out my dick for her if shed.  Totally.

And then there was ********e, who may not be the prettiest dancer in the world but one I could actually carry a conversation with.  She was totally geeking out over the Vikes' win.  Me too!  Weird how the sexiest stripper in the room is the one most people wouldn't think is hot-looking.  Who cares, fuck that.

And then I left during shift change.  While I was hauling out the tranny fluid from the trunk, a taxi came to the front door and the passenger door opened.  And as I was minding my own business, I heard a woman go, "Hey!"  I look up and see a really hot girl go, "How are you doing?"  I didn't recognize her until she took off her hat.  "Oh!" I said, "That's the ***i** I saw on the board and wondered if the name sounded familiar."  I felt bummed to tell her I had to go, but at least she said hello.  And just before I drove off another of the next wave of girls, *****y walked past.  She looked nothing like what she does on-stage, but her face gave her away.  We exchanged smiles and pleasantries.

One big problem.  When I looked under the hood, the stains that I saw in one place in the car now appeared in another one, on the radiator.  There might be another leak, or a leak is getting so bad it's starting to spray all over the machinery in there.  Fuck my life.  This is going to cost so much I might as well drop it off at the mechanic and leave it there.

But I started my car and it sounded fine.  "Second sound" near the end on my way to the U.

---

Two segments left.

Hopping out the car I look back.  And it's the damndest thing, but I already saw a drop from the car ... and it was in this new spot, on the left side of the car and further towards the front.  I dab my finger and determine it's oil, not transmission.  The puddles underneath are always the brown from oil.  So if I had trouble with the transmission going dry, where is all that fluid going?  Oh, by the way, I also saw drops from the usual spot from the car forming a puddle underneath mere seconds after I turned off the car.

Felt bad this MRI session because I was supposed to not only hold my breath during some scans but also do the opposite, breathe free and easy.  But I think "free and easy" to me is shallow breathing, like I'm waiting for someone to ambush me.  And apparently that was a problem, because the researcher I was working for was trying to scan me as I regularly breathed in and out.  I thought he wanted big breaths, but I just don't do that, I guess.  Meanwhile, he said that the Denver Broncos-Pittsburgh Steelers game on the piped-in radio was enrapturing me so much it was throwing my breathing pattern off, so he turned it off.  I think it may have pushed back what he wanted to measure so much he didn't finish in time.  Finally, the two plates on my hips were so heavy, and the foam I was lying on in this room was so thin, that my back killed me.

It was 11:30 by the time I left (it was scheduled to end at 10, but fuck it, I need the money).  It was too dark to check for leaks.  I just was anxious as fuck to see if it would start without me needing to fortify the car.

---

One segment left.

It started fine.  Maybe a nanosecond later than I would be happy with, but I think that's just my paranoia talking.  The turning felt kind of late, as did the steering.  But the huge sounds and shift trouble were long gone.  Maybe I have overfilled it?  I have no fucking idea; I looked at the dipstick and it says it's been full every single time.  My eyes deceive me, or I can't believe what I see.

Whatever.  There was a huge "second sound" on the way home after it drove virtually all the way home without incident, but finally, after 72 hours of wondering if the car was going to make it, it did, and without any major problems after pouring in all kinds of shit into it.  Now I don't have to turn that thing on until I drive it to the mechanic around the corner Tuesday.

Unless of course my parents insist we use my car to take them to the airport, at which case I not only have to check all the fluid levels again but also get gas too.  Fuck my life. ...

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -2).  For managing to get a split in one of the best volleyball programs in the country.  On Thursday and Friday the team made good on fulfilling the back end of their home-and-home series with fourth-ranked Texas.

Last year, the Longhorns came up to the Sports Pavilion and swept them.  On Thursday, they managed to beat Texas in four sets, blasting them at 13 in the second set and, losing to them at 27 in the third, and, determined not to let the home crowd buoy the Longhorns in a fifth and deciding set, got stretched to extra points but finally closing out the game in the fourth set, 29-27.  They ended the Volleyball Nation's longest home winning streak at 33 matches.  The Longhorns last lost at home on Sep. 4, 2010, this marks only their third home defeat since 2007.

And even the loss the following night wasn't all that bad; they lost their three sets at 20, 22 and 21 points.  That may show that they couldn't finish that game, but at least it showed that they weren't going to get blown out, either.

They come home for a quick home date Monday against North Dakota St.  They then travel to Oklahoma for the fourth and final tournament to open the season, the Tulsa Tournament; the U. plays Dayton and Kansas St. Friday and the host Golden Hurricane Saturday afternoon.

#-2: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -1).  A 1-1 week.  I was able to get to the Labor Afternoon victory over Western Kentucky, even though one member of the Hilltopper crowd (read: families of the players) was shouting that Katie Thyken was offside when she tallied the only goal of the game at Minute 52.

However, I was not able to get to Friday night's matchup against 20th-ranked San Diego St. as part of their Minnesota Gold Classic.  That turned out to be a good thing.  The Goofs held the shot advantage 18-12, 11 of those coming in the first half.  Nevertheless they and the Aztecs went to overtime scoreless.

In the first minute, U. Goalie Cat Parkhill muffed an SDSU cross.  The ball bounced towards the goal and a gaggle of players on both teams.  According to the Gopher press release a "flick fight ensued," conjuring in my mind images of the times I was in kindergarten or elementary school, when we had Phy. Ed., and when we were playing soccer all us boys wanted to do was kick the ball into the goal but we didn't know how, so we just surrounded the soccer ball and tried to leg-hack our way to personal glory.  I guess that's what happened in this instance, and the girl who brought home all the glory was Aztec Megan Jurado.

They close their tournament, and the non-con portion of their schedule, this (Sunday) afternoon (right in the middle of the Vikings game) versus DePaul.

#-3: Gopher football (Last Week: -3).  There is no advantage to scheduling these "bodybag" games beyond the money the University of Minnesota made (including, for the first time, beer sales; the Goofs are the first team in the B1G to sell alcohol and only the 11th in top-flight).  You lose, as this program has done too many times to the North and South Dakota States, you're perceived as a joke.  If you win, you're supposed to win.

Well shit, at least they didn't lose.  MarQueis Gray played well in thrashing New Hampshire, 44-7.  They did go "undefeated" this week, but really, this win shouldn't really count.  The next one will, if only because it is a top-flight program: Mid-American Conference member Western Michigan, at TCF Bank, Friday afternoon.

#-4: Twins (Last Week: -4).  A 2-4 screening week.  Saturday the squad retired the #10 of Tom Kelly, the Manager who led the team to its only two World Series titles.  Usually that means the home team will lose, but Cole DeVries led the Twinks to a 3-0 win over Cleveland, only their fifth shutout of the year.

One thing I want to talk about real quick.  I've heard some talk that Justin Morneau should be traded.  I understand, and I would not object.  I just want to say that when you are a baseball team, under an economic system where you have a lot of latitude in spending what you want in order to win, it will take several years to go from the outhouse to the penthouse.  So it makes absolutely no sense to hoard your best players.  It's a lose-lose situation; the franchise can't get any younger in the hopes of becoming a contender in the future, and the star dies in the vine, racking up individual stats but carrying the burden of being part of a losing team.

But hoarding is the issue, not completely trading away all your best players.  I really do think that fan relations is important in maintaining any relevance, let alone popularity, with the community that keeps you in business.  And that means you have to keep someone -- probably only one, maybe two or three -- on the team during its losing years.  There will be fans that stop caring, but there will always be baseball fans that continue to come out to the ballpark night after losing night.  You need someone they will come out for, someone whom kids can grow up with, adults whom they can grow old with.  It may suck for the star player because they'll be mired on a loser for the prime years of his career.  But I assume that he is a star once he signed a huge contract with that team.

Obviously I'm referring to Joe Mauer.  His contract is so fucking huge the Twinks probably couldn't trade him anyway (well, maybe the Dodgers).  But this team is already bombarded with catcalls, accusations of betrayal and, finally, apathy.  To prevent a riot, you need what amounts to be a good guy, one that will always be there come Spring Training.  And for all the talk that he doesn't take rehab seriously, or chatter that he secretly is an asshole, the Twins cannot trade Mauer ... well, unless that team gives them, like, their top five prospects in their system.  Short of that, Mauer has to stay in Minnesota for the life of his long contract.

And what does this mean for Morneau?  He would be the next cornerstone that needs to stay in order to maintain fan relations.  But as being a player behind Mauer in importance, he isn't essential.  It would be great to keep him, but I think a lot of us would look to the jump-start to the revival of this organization as justification to trade him away.

They remain home all week playing division rivals.  They play two more with Cleveland, then have Kansas City for three before playing next weekend against Chicago.

Sobering Diagnosis On My Car

Sorry to keep obsessing over my brokedown car, but I can't help but write about my ticket to freedom until at least Tuesday, when I finally get to bring it in.

After its worst day, Wednesday, I was scared as hell to feel what it had in store for me.  So, baby steps; all I wanted to do was go to the local Kinko's to make a resume, then dink around the library all afternoon.  If it breaks down doing just that, I could go home or bring it to the mechanic around the corner.

I gird myself by "topping off" the oil and transmission.  And I hold my breath as I turn the ignition ... and the car starts up fine.  OK, another breath as I shift the car into reverse ... and it eases down just fine.  And then I drive down the street, heart jumping as it gets fast enough to switch gears ... and it switches gears just fine.  There were no loud gurgling or sizzling noises, no "second fan" sound.  In fact, even though it was a very short drive to the closest mall and library, it drove perfectly.  And I didn't see the car leak even a drop of oil. My car is back!

Nevertheless I have to take the opportunity of having the parents' minivan to bring my vehicle in.  I still don't trust the mechanic around the corner, even though he's convenient, because I don't think he understands my concern of refilling the power steering and coolant overflow tanks every third day after I brought it into him to change the timing belt.  (Have to say that after suffering near death on Wednesday, that is a concern I set on the backburner.)  So, because the car seemed to be going well today, I thought I would at least call this place in Uptown that specializes in imports.  I have gone to them several times, the last time to change rear brakes early last year.  They are so far away that I need to take the bus home, and they usually have taken longer than they said they would, but they do repairs right.  I trust them.

So I call them (after calling their towing service, whoops).  I tell them that I want to bring my car in for a second opinion.  After getting my information from their records and letting them know what the mechanic around the corner thinks it is, he tells me ... oh my God, this is so hard to accept ... that they won't take it because it's not worth fixing.

Why?  First of all, the guy I talked to made me aware of something on their website that I kind of looked askance at but then glossed over: That their statement that they take a look at any car 1996 and younger is essentially a mandate.  Second, the guy said they would look it over, but from what I told them, the cost to fix it would be ... ahem ... $2,500.  He assumed that is what the mechanic around the corner quoted me.  He did not; with the caveat that there may be other leaks they haven't seen, I was given $800 to $1,000.  My fucking God; about a week ago that amount would make me mad as a wet rooster.  Now, compared to the ballpark quote this import specialist gave me, it's chump change.

But that quote, that huge number, is staying with me long after I hung up.  And when I did, I looked at the dashboard of my car (I made the call while sitting in it).  And I felt myself slowly ... saying goodbye to it.  It's like Grandmother and The Store; what I was in, what I was seeing, was being etched into my memory as quickly as possible, and then slowly fading from my sight, as if I needed my car of 19 years to vanish from in front of me or else I will do something strange, like pay $2,500 to keep it around.

And now, the questions.  You (meaning me, I'm talking to myself as I often do in times of personal crisis) know, he is an expert.  What if he's right?  There is no way that the leaks the mechanic around the corner are the only ones.  I think he's going to quote me a similar price, and not only can I not afford that, that is more than the car's worth, and I can't justify that no matter how much I love my car, which is a lot.  But I don't have another car, and I actually have interviews coming up.  For jobs!  Fuck, I had one over the phone this morning.  So what happens if I can't afford to get this fixed?  And if I just say, Fuck it, I'll just take my chances, what happens if I try to go to work and it fucking conks out on me in the middle of the highway?

Shit, for all I know the car will act up again tomorrow.  So what if it ran perfectly today?  The sounds and the bad shifting came and went.  Maybe these problems come in cycles, or they're totally random and unaffected by anything I do.  Sure, I'll pour more fluid into that liquid pit, but I have a bar to go to tomorrow and two jobs (actual jobs) on Sunday.  I need to make it, and I have no fucking idea how to make sure of it. And if I don't ... $2,500, really?

Fuck my goddamn life.

My Day Of Death Driving My Car

I thought I was ready.  I popped the hood open -- for what seems to be the fourth consecutive day -- and dumped some oil in the engine (after washing away the puddle beneath).  And for the first time in a long time, and maybe ever, I was proactive in putting in some transmission fluid in my tranny.  The loud gurgling noises, the reactive shifting in low gears, and my paranoia finally convinced me to go to a car store and get some fluid, and today, even though I had not properly checked the fluid level, I put in, oh, about a quarter quart.  (FYI, BTW: a quart and a liter are just about equal.  One of the very rare instances where metric and traditional measurements are the same, kind of like 40 and -40 on the temperature scales.)

I felt like that would keep my car running well and without incident for the day.  But as soon as I started up this fucking thing, the huge gurgling noise came back.  It was a sucking sound, or a boiling sound, or like a storm was brewing underneath the hood.  And as I started accelerating down the road, the goddamn thing had a problem with getting up in gears again.  I was having panic attacks again, reliving that time when I was driving to my job downtown, and I was stuck at a light and all of a sudden I felt something stop.  And when the light turned green, I put down the gas pedal, and the fucking car wouldn't move.  And that is when the transmission busted for the first time.  And now I'm thinking that I today, I too would be stopped at a light, and then I would feel that infamous absence of sound, and know that my car is kaput for good.

I had written down plans to shimmy south the two side streets that border my house so I could do the things I want to do -- get money from the ATM, finally buy coolant, pick up a ticket to the Minnesota RollerGirls bout this Saturday, then park early at work at the U. so I can finally "properly" check the level of the transmission.  But I was freaking out so much at how my car has turned into this poorly-functioning monster that I knew that my plans for the weekend had to be drastically cut.  Can't go to the roller derby bout; that's in St. Paul, and I do not want to be stranded in St. Paul.  I also wanted to catch the Gopher women's soccer game Friday night; I think I'll stay home instead.  (One thing I am adding to my schedule this weekend: I got picked up for work at the Vikings game.  Call time, however, is at 7 a.m.  More reason not to go to roller derby and stay out late.)  I just made a bee-line for Target, where I got another problem: I was hit in the face with the rank smell of antifreeze.  I didn't know I had that much antifreeze in the car.  So ... maybe I don't need more antifreeze?  No, fuck, I got it anyway.

Bought it, went back to my car, popped the hood, saw nothing that was leaking or breaking, and I finally filled up the coolant overflow tank.  And then I took the bottle of tranny fluid I took with me and, even though I hadn't measured and it's possible I might be overfilling it, I poured in another half-quart, just in case the tranny knocking while gear-shifting is telling me that it needed more fluid.

I had no idea if that worked.  All I knew at the time was that I fuckin' had to do something.  And so, just to make sure, I walked from Target to the AutoZone across the street and two blocks down.  No fuckin' way I was going to drive there.  The whole time I put my head down and I just walked.  I was thinking, except that I wasn't thinking because I had no idea what the fuck to do.  How can you analyze something when you the subject is beyond your expertise?  That is the worst feeling, knowing you can't find the right answer while knowing that you have to come up with something.

It was at that point that I figured that if the car was still acting up, I would say to hell with my timetable of getting it serviced when my parents are out of town (so I could use their car) and just get it fixed right now.  Work this afternoon, work on Sunday, the game Saturday -- fuck it all, this is more important.  And when I turned the car on, I heard a sound -- but not the violent, pot-boiling sound before, but another one, one that I actually remember several years ago.  It sounded like a bad pump, but I went to the dealership and the guy just chalked it up to the hot weather, even though it wasn't really hot today.

However, after an initial acceleration to fourth gear, the bad shifting was gone.  Even after I had to start driving off a four-way stop, the pinging and hesitation was done.  And so I hit the intersection, where left means I'm going to work and right means bringing the car in for service.

I needed the MRI work, so I went left.  And even though that sucking sound stayed with me the whole drive down there, the bad shifting was gone.  I made it to the U. on time, so I finally was able to properly check my transmission fluid level, by parking somewhere level, using the parking brake, shift the car from P to R and all the way down to L and back, and then, without turning off the car, popping the hood and checking the level.

And I will be goddamned, but it says it's full.  Three-quarters of fluid and it's full??  The bad shifting has to be because of something else, 'cause it can't be because the transmission is starving for fluid.  I wiped the fluid off the dipstick and it was mostly purple -- kind of black, but I think that's alright.  It didn't smell burnt.  And there are no metallic bits of the gears inside the housing on the dipstick.  So what the fuck could it be?  I'm growing to throw more tranny fluid in because I'm scared of what would happen if I didn't, even though the check is telling me that I shouldn't.  Are my eyes deceiving me???  (Oh, one bad thing -- bigger oil spill than I've seen from my car parked at level ground.)

I took a huge breath after getting back in the car for the ride home.  And now I have another fucking problem: I turn the car on and once again it had a very hard time starting.  You mean to tell me that the ignition has to be changed now?  Goddamn, I just thought the car was leaking all over the place, and now it needs a new transmission and ignition system?  I hope I'm just paranoid because this is fucking nuts.

No gurgling sound, instead it had that quieter sucking sound.  But again my car threw me for a curve: After a little bit, the sucking sound largely went away.  The transmission shifting just fine.  In fact, the car ran perfectly on the way home (or at least until I turned the car off on the driveway, and I heard this sizzle underneath the dashboard; this is the same sound that the dealership guy chalked up to the summer heat).

So it's fine.  Well, it's not.  The worst of this fucking predicament is that I have no goddamn clue whether it's fine, or even if I can run it tomorrow.  I have four more days (three if I don't have to use the car Monday) before I can drive it a car shop.  I need this car to make it to then.  But I don't know if it will -- and I don't know if it's because I waited too long and allowed bad problems to become worse, or because I overreacted and, for example, overfilled and thus destroyed a part of the car.  I don't know if the car will be done for good because I did not do something or because I did do something.  I have to feel relief at the whims of a machine I love but don't understand.  Shit, I could wake up tomorrow and see such a huge oil puddle that I throw up my hands and say, "That's it, I'm taking it across the street, and I don't care."

Honestly, if the problems are piling up on my car, I'm really starting not to care.

Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from August 17th:

• That Friday the 17th I spent my afternoon at a place I've never been to ... even though it was only a five-minute drive away from me: The Banfill-Locke Center for the Arts.  I had never heard of the place until I saw an article in the Star Tribune about an exhibition that was about to close there: The Art of Cash.  Extremely small collection of pieces (housed in a big house), but it's a perfect way to spend an hour.  The best piece is "Honesty," a double-wire screen with some of the holes filled with rolled-up dollar bills that, if you step back a bit, spell out the word "honesty."  The artist felt that people would surreptitiously take a bill, and pretty soon more and more people would take money from it, thus symbolizing the loss of "honesty" depicted in the piece.  Brilliant.  Oh, I made a donation to Banfill-Locke, as well as to one of the pieces, where my dollar bill would be sewn onto this huge line of bills that visitors dropped off.  Also brilliant.  Total: $2.
• That night I went to Robbie Stadium for the kick-off of the University of Minnesota women's soccer season (and really the beginning of the college sports season).  Thank Buddha tickets for this remain free.  Program, hot dog and Coke: $9.50.
• Then I went to (formerly) My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Edition).  Coffee with tip: $2.
• Saturday the 18th I knew I was going to spend money, so I took some from my PCA pay.  An Infusion of: $50.
• Went to the coffeeshop at the mall closest to me.  Coffee with tip: $1.50.
• Last thing I wrote down for the day was going to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place.  Don't know what I did in between coffee and there.  Oh well.  With tip: $9.50.
• On Sunday the 19th I went back for another U. pitch game.  Same thing, except that along with the program and hot dog, I made sure to buy a souvenir-size Coke.  Because I collect those souvenir cups.  Yes, I'm a kid: $10.50.
• After MRI work that evening I went Caffetto to chill.  Coffee with tip: $1.75.
• Over to Tuesday the 21st, where I went to see Brave (not a bad movie, though it didn't stir me emotionally until the end).  Ticket, popcorn and pop: $8.
• I then saw Hit & Run, a movie I mentioned, in an earlier blog post, with a friend.  Popcorn and pop also: $8.
• Wednesday the 22nd I embarked on trying something different: Working out in the afternoon.  That would save me two trips from home in a day, thus saving money, and it would fulfill my need to get away from the house in the afternoons, plus it'd be productive and healthy for me.  The biggest setback to making this a full-time deal is the fact that there usually is nothing on TV that I want to watch during the day.  And I can't exercise without being entranced by a show.  I was glad to see a soccer match and a couple baseball games, but days without sports?  Those are days I don't work out, plain and simple.  Admission: $3.
• And then there is Friday the 24th, the night where I got kicked out of what used to be My Favorite Coffeehouse (Late-Night Edition).  But not before I had to pay for my coffee, and with tip: $2.
• Saturday the 25th.  This was the day us siblings, my sister-in-law and my sister's best friend kicked it at the Minnesota State Fair.  God I love that place.  But as I had said before, I wanted to prepare by emptying my stomach, and to do that I went to the community center to work out.  Admission: $3.
• And I have to be grateful to these guys for buying most of food I ate.  What I purchased was my own corn and all but a buck of the Minneapple Pie, which is a slice of apple pie deep-fried to hell and topped with either vanilla or (my choice this time) cinnamon ice cream.  Total: $8.
• On Sunday the 26th I once again finished my tube time with Caffetto coffee and tip.  Another: $1.75.
• Monday the 27th: I went to the U. to do a study, one that doesn't involve going into a magnetic tunnel and holding still for hours.  This one had to do with rearranging sentences and typing them in your own words, and then eating M&M's.  For that I got an Infusion of: $7.
• Started off Tuesday the 28th needing more money in my wallet.  PCA-aided Infusion of: $50.
• While waiting to get my car looked over, I finally went to the independent coffeeshop close to my high school, one I haven't been in in at least three years.  Unfortunately they didn't have wi-fi, so I had to go to another coffeehouse close to the high school, one I've never been to.  Had coffee for an hour and caught up on Mafia Wars.  With tip: $2.
• Took advantage yet again of Stimulus Today at the theater closest to me to watch The Bourne Legacy.  Verdict: Not bad.  I thought it was a mistake to continue on with the franchise after Matt Damon decided to leave, but this was a plausible, entertaining way to keep it going.  Ticket, popcorn and pop: $8.
• Found a penny that day.  An Infusion of: $.01.
• And I gave that penny to my sister to help her out with change when we decided to go to Dairy Queen: 1 cent.
• Wednesday the 29th I continued to raid my PCA money, this time in anticipation of my stripclubbin' that night.  An Infusion of: $100.
• After dropping off my sister at the airport I went to the Megamall to both take a nap and see some Hooters!  Many transactions happened here.  First, I found heads-up pennies on the floor.  Therefore, and Infusion of: 3 cents.
• Then I bought some shrimp ramen.  Not for me to eat; the strip club I was going to, My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version), has a coupon that knocks two bucks off the cover if you bring in a non-perishable food item.  It's part of the food drive they've headed for years.  Buying this does save me money overall.  Cost of the ramen: 59 cents.
• Cashed in on a small Northstar Cash ticket.  An Infusion of: $3.
• Hooters.  Waitress may not have had a set of tits, but she was showing off a barebelly uniform, and I love her pierced belly button.  Man, I would've so whipped out my dick ... if she didn't spend most of her downtime sitting with her friend, who was only kitty-corner from me.  With tip: $26.
• My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) -- you know, the one where my All-Time Favorite finally told me her real name?  Life can't be too bad if a stripper gives you her real name.  I spent all but three dollars on her -- the three dollars that was going to be the five-dollar cover charge to get in but for the coupon and shrimp ramen cup.  Cover, tips, and eight dances from ******a (it's usually at least ten, but I was broke -- and also, I didn't get tagged for a drink the hour I was there, thank God): $85.
• On Thursday the 30th I went to another stripclub.  Man, I need to tell you the story about this one.  Let's just say I got out of there under my own power before leaving under someone else's.  Cover, drinks, two-ish dances with this chick named Kara and absolute no tips (though extortion money might have changed hands): $56.
• Friday the 31st: More PCA money, an Infusion of: $50.
• I did not anticipate that my best friend, visiting family from Manhattan, would want to go to a stripclub.  But he did, and so I steered him once again to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition).  This allowed me to get two more dances from ******a to make it to ten dances from her -- even though I really couldn't spend the money.  With cover, Coke and tips: $37.
• Let's go on to September.  On Saturday the 1st, after seeing my USC Trojans crush Hawai'i, I went to Caffetto to relax and forget.  With tip: $1.50.
• Labor Day/Monday the 3rd.  Started the day by catching the special Gopher soccer game, which they won.  Program, hot dog and Coke: $8.50.
• Went to my second coffeeshop after the game; I needed to get online to participate in my fantasy football auction, and my computer didn't have the correct settings to get connected to the first one.  But I think the second one (which is close to the U.) was a lot cheaper.  Even with tip: 90 cents.
• Even though I got out later than I expected because I was hammering out my sports column, I did manage to make it to the Minnesota State Fair on its last day.  Man I ate so goddamn much ... and loved it!  The Walleye Roll (considered to be the best new food at the Fair, and they're right), poutine (man, why doesn't KFC make this?  I think it was given to me in a shallow KFC bowl), and another Minneapple Pie (this time with vanilla ice cream instead of cinnamon).  I regret that I didn't try the wine smoothie, which I hear was quite good.  Total: $19.25.
• But maybe this is a sign someone up above is looking out for me.  Whenever I go to the Minnesota State Fair I park in one of the satellite lots, board a coach and get bussed towards the Fairgrounds.  This time around, because I was at a coffee place close by, I park-and-rode from the U.  Coming back, one of the passengers in the seats across from where I was sitting gets up (there were three different spots this U. shuttle was going to drop off at).  Several seconds later, I see a crumpled-up $10 sitting between the seats.  My first instinct was to pounce on it, but there were lots of other people that were still in the bus and able to see me steal the money.  But when I looked around there weren't too many people, and those that were sitting down were talking to other people.  It looked as if no one noticed the $10.  So I proceeded to sit on the other side of the aisle and playing it off as just going into a space that no one was using instead of staying too close to the guy next to me.  And, without looking, I take the money and put it in my pocket.  I really don't think anyone was the wiser.  Hey, to the person who dropped it: Sorry and thanks.  By the time I saw your money I realized that I didn't even pay any attention to what you even looked like the 10-minute trip from the State Fair to our cars.  All I can say is is that I need as much money as possible.  An Infusion of: $10.

Fuck, I'm tired.  We're caught up through September the 3rd.