If It's Not One Goddamn Thing, It's Another

Well, I finally got my car back.  Turns out that there wasn't another part they needed to replace, they just wanted to test out the valve timing to make sure it runs optimally.  For now it does.  The hard vibration and inability to respond to the gas pedal are completely gone.  In fact, it runs like a dream.  Let's see if it does that when I take it down to the Megamall and then downtown for a concert tonight.  Then we'll know if it needs a tow.

Unfortunately my troubles continue.  With my parents finally being back at home, they have finally caught up with all the mail that was collecting at The Store.  One of those pieces of mail was my health insurance renewal form.  Now I don't know why in the fuck I have to reapply when I applied just back in May.  But they are -- and goddammit, this form was due on October 27.

I don't have insurance anymore, do I?  Fuck my life. ...

You've Got To Be FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!

Well, the good news is is that I have an extra day of the home all to myself.  My folks -- probably My Father -- misread the flight.  I was told to pick them up tonight at 5:30 p.m., but it turns out the flight was at 5:30 a.m.  So they are going to get the next flight out at 5:30 this morning.

The bad news ... well, one is they want me to pick them up.  So I have to get up early, go all the way down to the airport, go all the way back home, and because I'd have only a half-hour before I would have to go, I would just be going to work early.

The worse news?  I thought this would mean that I would get my car back with an extra day to spare.  But when I called The Mechanic Around The Corner -- and remember that I had to call them, they didn't call me -- they told me that in fact it was not ready today, like they virtually promised.  According to them, it's "90 percent better," but there's still some stuttering, and they're looking into it.  Even though they had the WHOLE FUCKING GODDAMN DAY TO FIGURE IT OUT, AND THEY STILL CAN'T FIND IT!!!  THEY'RE JUST DOING THIS TO FUCK WITH ME.  EITHER THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS AND THEY'RE PUTTING THEIR THUMBS UP THEIR ASSES, OR THEY DO KNOW AND THEY'RE INTENTIONALLY DAMAGING MY CAR BECAUSE I HAVE PUT SO MUCH MONEY INTO IT ALREADY THIS YEAR AND WANT TO SEE HOW MUCH MORE THEY CAN LEECH OUT OF ME!!!

This is pissing me the hell off.  And even if there is something wrong with it, there's no way I can pay for it.  I'm already shelling out $1,100 for it.  I can't pay any more.  Why in the hell should I pay more for a 19-year-old car?  Even if it's only at 90%, I'll drive it.  Shit, if it's just going to rattle and hesitate as much as it did before I brought it in, I'll drive it.  I love this car, but pouring even more money into this is fucking crazy!!!

That's why I am oddly at peace with it.  This is so outrageous that I know for certain what my answer is, because it is what the answer must be.  Also, I kind of think it's bullshit that I have to pick up my folks at the buttcrack of dawn well before I have to go to work, which in itself is way too early.  Tomorrow is already so fucked up that I just don't give a shit anymore.  I wanted to hide bringing my car in, but now, life is so unfair that I don't care.  I can't care.  I'll tell them that I need the car or ask them to pick me up, and then I'll just bring my shit car back home and drive it into the ground.  Because I don't care anymore.

Oh, and my supervisor gave me a head's-up on when our termination date will be.  Great.

My Two-Week Staycation Is Just About Over

My folks are coming home tomorrow, and it still feels like they could be away for another two weeks so I can get all the shit I want to get done done.

I can't do anything while they're around here.  Which feels weird, but I feel like I can only do things if they're away.  But it never turns out that way.  Instead, I have a lot of things I want to do, but I never get around to it.

For example, even though I've had two weeks, I didn't even get around to raking up all the leaves in the backyard; the most I could do was sweep it off the deck.  Hell, I didn't even get around to completely raking up the front yard, and I know I'll hear about that.  I did nothing about my Entertainment Weeklys.  I wrote only one thing for my sports site, and that's because I had to write a World Series preview real quick.  Did no cleaning around the house.  And I didn't get around to "cleaning my room," which should make My Fucking Father pissed.

So how come I didn't get around to it?  Looking back on it, I had the time to do all of that.  But then, let's see -- I worked ... I spent three nights working the Vikings game ... another day I spent out after watching the Trojans loss ... last Sunday I just stayed home and did nothing because I thought I deserved a day to do nothing ... I raked leaves a couple times ... I ate at McDonald's a few times ... and then I exercised a few nights.  Shit, I guess I could I say I was busy, but then again, maybe I wasn't.

I know that I was busy worrying over my fucking car.  Whenever I get worried I can't do anything else.  I still feel guilty that I have been using my parents' minivan every single goddamn day they've been away.  I will get my car back -- and Lord willing it'll work just fine -- and I'll be able to drive it to the airport to pick them up.

---

I will miss them being gone.  Because I could be me while they've been gone.  I put my laptop on the dining room table, where it's been virtually the past fortnight.  I've thrown my envelopes and mail and receipts on there, too.  I will miss tossing my clothes on the floor.  I will also miss laying my jerk-off towel on my bed and not having to hide it once I'm done ejaculating onto it.

Most of all, I will miss leaving the goddamn bathroom mat where it belongs, on the floor.  For some goddamn reason, My Fucking Father every night has come up to my bathroom, takes the mat off the floor and hangs it over the side of the bathtub.  I didn't understand at first, but after I realized what he was doing I just wanted to see how passive-aggressive he was going to be about it.  And sure enough, every single fucking night I see that thing on the tub.  I don't dry my feet on the tub, for fuck's sake.  It's supposed to be on the floor because it's a floor mat.  Why the fuck does he put it over the side of the tub when I'll just have to put on the fucking floor again?  And is he going to do that every goddamn night?  What's the fucking use? Seriously, it bugs the shit out of me.

Car Guilt

For the two weeks my parents have been gone, I have used their minivan every single day.  I used it because my car wasn't working, but I didn't bring it in because I needed to wait until my credit card got to the next billing cycle.

Things were advantageous for me like that; I should get it back tomorrow.  But that means that their work van hasn't had a day's rest until today (Sunday), when I just refused to do anything because I really thought the vehicle needed to take a break.

My folks have taken vacations three (four?) times since The Store ... um, you know ... and every time I have used their van extensively while I've taken my car in for repairs.  It's the perfect situation for me; because I have two cars I can do whatever I need to do without missing a beat.  But I feel guilty because I should be leaving their car alone and doing things on my own.  This time out is the worst because I have bogarted their van for two whole weeks.

It was the only car that's been working, but now I'm starting to doubt even that.  Last week I broke hard coming to a red light I didn't see, and for several days afterward whenever I broke even moderately hard I heard this rhythmic knocking whenever the axels oriented themselves to a particular spot.  That's been gone for about the past two or three days, and besides, I'm not driving around in luxury in this thing.  But I want to think that I can drive it so that I don't make it any worse, general wear and tear because I'm adding mileage on it excepted.  If this brake knocking thing is my fault, I just might be cursed.

I want to give the van a rest whenever my folks are out of town, but that depends on whether I can trust my own car, and right now I can't.  The only good news is that I had the courage to call up The Mechanic Around The Corner and tell them that my records show that the distributor cap and rotor were replaced in December.  Will they call me back Monday morning and insist they be changed?

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -4).  You know, I thought this was the end of the University of Minnesota women's soccer team, and thus I could put this program in a tie with the team(s) whose season(s) ended this week; you'll see them on the bottom.

But then a few things happened.  First, they ended their regular season with a pair of impressive wins on the road, 5-1 over Purdue and 4-2 over Nebraska.  Then I see that, in fact, there is a athletic department-draining conference tournament -- and somehow, the Gophers reached fourth place in the Big Ten.  They face Illinois in the eight-team tourney in ... where is this being held? ... on Halloween.

Finally, I dinked around cyberspace and finally saw something I have been looking for, albeit in a half-assed way: a place that has the Ratings Percentage Index for women's soccer, virtually the sole metric by which the NCAA Tournament Committee selects and seeds its 64-team field.  And what the hell?!  The Gophers are 17th in RPI?!?!?!  I thought this team's season was over on Friday, but it looks like not only are they safely in the tournament, but there's a chance they'll get to freakin' host a subregional in ten days!  I would call it a turnaround, but this side didn't turn in the first place; I just didn't notice.

(By the way, there is another good website that predicts the tournament for top-flight college women's soccer.  Chris Thomas has done his research in explaining and tracking which teams have made previous tournaments, what Adjusted RPIs they've had, and what goes into getting into the tourney.  It's a hell of a site, and if you're a fan of the sport, check it out.)

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1).  One game, a sweep of Northwestern at home Friday.  They now have won three in a row and six-of-seven.  And they shouldn't have a real test right now; as I type this, the Gophers have (or should have) tipped off their annual Williams Arena/pink cancer game against last year's NCAA Tournament runner-up, Illinois.  Their real test comes Friday: at Penn St.  They finish out the week Saturday in Ohio St.

#-2: Gopher football (Last Week: -5).  Philip Nelson for Heisman!  No, not really.  But that's all you're hearing from all the Gopher ass-kissers around here after his 15-for-22-for-246 yard, three-touchdown, no-interception performance as they destroyed Purdue yesterday at Das Bank, 44-28.

There were some tweets in the local media asking us haters if we still think Nelson should have remained redshirted this year.  Yeah, I still do.  As another tweeter responded, this isn't a matter of thinking Nelson wasn't good, but questioning whether you should play Nelson this year.  You could say that this prepares Nelson to be that much better next year.  But the fact of the matter remains that by burning one year of Nelson's career now, you're not getting (at most) four years but really 3 1/2.  Also, this is a BcS conference team, so they always load up their early non-conference schedule with patsies; that is where Nelson can get up to speed.  Finally, the hype over Nelson's emergence means that the team will reach the, oh (thinking of a stupid name out of my ass), the BBVA Compass Bowl or something this year.  Who cares?  I'd rather finish the year 4-12 and save Nelson and his arm for a full year next year.

Plus, this is Purdue, a team that might be worse than the Goofs.  You really think Nelson is going to duplicate his albeit impressive outing yesterday hosting Michigan early Saturday afternoon?  Pssh.

#-3: Vikings (Last Week: -3).  Forgot that the Vikes had two games this screening week.  Maybe I forgot because I had to remember that I was working the Thursday night game.

I wanted to write about how playing on Thursdays are unfair and risks player safety.  That was predicated somewhat on the road team losing every Thursday.  Unfortunately, that theory is kind of blown because the Tampa Bay Buccaneers became the second team this season to go on the road for TNF and win.

It was frustrating to see how desultory the ViQueens looked in losing to what I thought was an inferior team. The turnovers were really bad.  But what was worse was the lack of pressure on Bucs Quarterback Josh Freeman.  Worse than that is that they couldn't contain Doug Martin, and now we once again have to question the team's ability to stop the run.

But the main factor in the loss is the defense's inability to lock down Tampa Bay in the clutch.  Do you remember that long drive that ate up most of the first half of the fourth quarter?  It started late in the third, took up nine minutes, and they wound up scoring a touchdown.  The worst part about that drive?  The Fuccaneers (I just made that up!) faced third down five times and converted all five times.  On second thought, maybe we just need to question the Vikings defense, period.

Oh yeah, they beat Arizona at the Dome last Sunday.  But that win and this loss has one disturbing commonality: Christian Ponder's inability to move the ball.  They beat the Cardinals mostly on Adrian Peterson's legs and the D.  I thought he was showing good decision-making and was developing an all-important touch on the ball for sideline passes where it has to fit through a keyhole.  Now it appears that the talk of him getting rattled when things don't go his way are becoming true, and he's not able to learn from it.

This is the NFL.  As I said last week, one week your team can look brilliant and the next they can look absolutely stupid.  It is increasingly foolish to generalize how a team is doing.  So Ponder could be clicking and the defense could be closing the coffin in Seattle Sunday, November 4.  Or, maybe not.  And maybe the upset win over San Francisco could be the worst thing to happen to this team because it inflated not only the fans' expectations but the expectations on a team that's still trying to rebuild.

ETA: One more thing: I admire Chris Kluwe for speaking out against Minnesota's gay marriage ban amendment.  He is a very articulate guy who speaks with passion and erudition.  But goddammit, he has to punt better.  Because if he is sending the ball out less than 40 yards every time, sorry, but he'll be out of a job with the Vikes before next season.  Then again, I'm seeing him in every single print magazine and periodical these days, virtually at the same time, from Out to Lavendar to City Pages to Vita.MN.  So maybe he already has one eye on his post-punting career.

#-Infinity: Lynx (Re-Entry!).  I have thought long and hard as to when to put back a team that has won a league championship back in the Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey.  At first I thought I'd give that team five years' grace period, then three, then two, then one, and then I would just play it by ear.  Now, after the Lynx's defeat in the WNBA Finals to the Indiana Fever, I realized the perfect time: As soon as the team fails to win another championship!

This one hurts.  And it is a lot more embarrassing than many fans make it out to be.  The Jynx (man, I haven't used that put-down in a long time!) were the overwhelming favorite to win it all before the season began, and when they finished the season with the best record in the WNBA, those predictions were reinforced.  So losing to Indiana, and in four games, counts as a huge and demoralizing upset.

What happened?  You can blame the Olympics finally taking their toll on the three players who won gold in London, Seimone Augustus, Lindsay Whalen and Maya Moore.  But that really is a cop-out; if they truly were gassed, we would see not see signs in the finals, which is the worst possible moment, but before.  Basically the offense couldn't throw a spear in the ocean; the shooting went south in the fourth quarter of their Game 1 loss (which in retrospect was the turning point of the series), and in Game 4, Head Coach Cheryl Reeve relied on her superstar, Augustus, and she responded by going 3-for-21 or something.  Even an average performance would have given Minnesota Game 4 and the chance to go for a repeat at Target; instead, we have an eight-point loss and a shocking end to what should have been back-to-back titles.

And now, the future -- and you don't have to squint to see that this franchise could go sink to the bottom, a place the Jynx know all to well, in a hurry.  This team is old; this should be Moore's team, not Augustus', and although Whalen showed a lot of heart during the team's postseason run, she's getting long in the tooth.  Besides Candice Wiggins and Monica Wright (two players ripe to be picked off in an expansion draft, so thank goodness the WNBA is so unpopular there are no new franchises to be born in the horizon), the bench was exposed as lacking, particularly in the frontcourt.  An upset loss like this should mean roster turnover, but who do you replace?

The one big replacement I can see is the retirement of Center and mother figure Taj MacWilliams-Franklin.  She's 42 (my God, she's still banging around the blocks?! -- well, maybe not so much in their losses to Indiana) and has won two WNBA trophies, so she has definitely earned the right to hang it up.  But that removes a hell of a lot of defense and leadership.  There's no choice for this team but to go young, but that means that the championship aspirations of the Lynx will have be placed in the backburner.

However, this is the WNBA, a league that, if the accounting records were ever made public, I would say is still awash in red ink.  There are hardcore fans, just not enough to sustain a WNBA franchise with the way costs are now, I think.  The only way to even eke out a profit is to be successful.  The Lynx had won a title, but another one would make it the current elite squad of the league.  That would have brought in tidier profits.  Now, they're just another good team that's passed around the trophy.  Watch the crowds that finally filled up Target Center this year to disappear next year, sadly.

(And by the way, another anti-shout-out to the Minnesota Stars of the NASL, another defending national champion who lost in the final.  And like the Lynx, the Stars also choked; they started their two-leg final here in Blaine with a 2-0 "win," but then choked it away last night in St. Petersburg as the Tampa Bay Rowdies managed to tie the final with a 3-1 result.  In the dying embers of extra time one of their men was sent off with a red card, and the Stars couldn't capitalize in their, oh, minute or so with the man advantage.  So it went to penalty kicks, and the Rowdies Goalkeeper stoned all the Stars' attempts.  Guess there will be no victory party at a downtown Minneapolis bar this year, huh?)

Eleven-Hundred Friggin' Dollars?!?!?!

I would swear instead of use the word "friggin'," but I'm at a library and there are kids around.

So no, putting in the fuel injector wasn't the end of it.  According to The Mechanic Around The Corner, the lack of response upon accelerating was still there.  After testing it, the spark is arcing back to the ... where it came from.  So they say they need to replace the distributor cap, rotor, and ignition wires.  That's another $270 -- by itself a pittance, but along with the fuel injector and the power window (which they already replaced), the total bill is over a grand for the second straight time I have brought the car in for them to fix.

There is one big problem: The distributor cap and rotor were replaced in December.  Now it is an old car, and I've ridden it hard the past 10 months (I think I'm over 15,000 since then).  But you mean to tell me I need those parts replaced after less than a year???

This will be the fourth distributor cap and rotor in my car.  The original parts lasted until 2006, so the second one lasted five years.  And now this is 10 months?  Either the guys who did really screwed me ... or these guys are trying to screw me.

With the charges coming on this car, the grand I dropped for sealing up the engine a month ago, and all the other ancillary charges I put on my credit card, with the money I have made on my temp job as well as the paychecks for working the Vikings games, I might -- might -- be able to cover it.  I really don't think I'll come out ahead in money after my assignment is over.  In other words, I have worked full-time for the past month-plus just to repair my car.  What I'm doing is fucking insane.  Why I am doing this?

This is where it pays to know how to be a mechanic.  I still need this car, so I can bitch all I want about how I don't the car needs it, but I'll just say yes and they'll charge me up the wazoo, again.  I still need to call them, just in case they "made a mistake."

I can't fucking believe it.  $1100?  Really?!

820 Fucking Dollars?!?!?!

Are you sure it's not the fuel pump?  I thought that was underneath the car, where the squealing sound comes from.  Now you're telling me it's another fuel injector, only ten months after I had to replace another injector?

You know, I've always had doubts about The Mechanic Around The Corner.  All this shit happened after I went to these guys for the first time.  The latest red flag is them telling me that they aren't out of the woods with my car yet.  Apparently they can't get to the rest of the engine to make sure it's only the fuel injector.  So there's a chance they'll charge me for the injector, they'll test it, the car still doesn't work properly (or so they will say) and they'll say they have to -- what did he say?  Remove the plenum or something?  God, I don't trust these guys. ...

This, along with changing the power window, is going to cost me $820+ dollars, and they still might not be done.  Assuming I only have another month of work at this temp job, this essentially soaks up all the money I'll be making for work.  I essentially got a job just to maintain my car.  You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Man, just make my fucking car work and don't drag this shit out any more, OK?

Expenses Without Receipt

• Wednesday, October 24 ... I was so hungry I had to eat, even though I'm trying to lose some weight while my parents are gone.  They also say that snacking throughout the day will stimulate your metabolism.  So I went down to the office eatery and got a not-bad bagel with turkey, egg, provolone and pesto sauce.  And the lady saved me a couple pennies by using the penny tray: $3.75.
• Sunday the 21st ... after the Vikings game I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition).  Got a dance from Vivian, the first time in a long time.  With stage tips but not coffee: $28.
• Saturday the 20th: I went to the same My Favorite Stripclub for, I think, just tips: $8.
• Before then I went to the North Star Roller Girls' first bout of the season.  Had to spend the extra $2 to buy a walk-up ticket.  Also add beer with tip: $21.
• On Friday the 19th I went to the Lovely Creatures Cabaret.  Tips for the show, plus an Americano (with tip): $7.

That connects me with the previous EWR.  Guess I'm good.

Bringing My Car In ... For The Last Time?

My credit card billing cycle is about to end, so now it's safe for me to bring my car in to The Mechanic Around The Corner for help with what the fuck is going on with it this time.  I'm at the sweet spot where I can push charging the repair till next month (and pay it the month after that), but they have a week to figure out what's wrong with it and, hopefully, get a used part to replace it.

The bad thing is that I was asked if I thought if it was only one thing.  How should I know if it's one or more than one thing?  You're the mechanic!  However, I am worried that it is more than one thing.  Maybe it was the way I communicated that I first felt vibration and thudding when the car is idling and accelerating, and then later the inability to respond when I hit the gas pedal, as if they were two different things.

I'm assuming it's the fuel pump; replacing that will be expensive, but I've got the money for it.  If it's any more, or if there's something else?  Fuck me, and fuck this car.

Where The Fuck Is My Mind?

My God, I am having such a bad fucking day today.  This should have been great -- a dreary, overcast day, my cold is mostly gone, my supervisor and I are chatting it up about football -- but goddamn, this day was shit.

How?  Two things.  This morning I forgot to take my bottle of water to work.  That happens, but what makes this morning worse is that I actually took this bottle out of the refrigerator before I left with the intention of remembering to take it with me to work, and I totally fucking forgot.  I was so wrapped up with making sure all the lights were off on my car in the garage that by the time I went back upstairs, I just bolted for my parents' minivan and left the bottle on the new kitchen counter.

All day at work I could imagine that bottle, surface condensing as the water warmed to room temperature, sweating its contents through the plastic and onto the counter below.  I remember someone putting a cup whose bottom wasn't cleaned on our piano bench a long time ago, and I just watched it sit there for hours, and at some point someone picked it up and there was this ring stain on the bench because the coffee (?) bubbled up the varnish from the bench.  That's what I thought would happen as the bottled water just sat there where I placed it for nine fucking hours.

Fortunately I just got back home and put the bottle back in the fridge, and there was no stain underneath.  Behold the power of granite, perhaps.

What is worse, however, is gas.  I was below a quarter-tank on my folks' car, and I wanted to hold off on filling it up until I got back from work today.  But somehow I fucking convinced myself that I should just do this just after midnight, before I went to bed.  A bunch of stupid goddamn things went into the mistaken decision: I was all flipping out over the fuel pump overheating in the minivan, much the same way I think that has happened to my car (even though I have no clue if that's really the case because I ain't no fucking mechanic); I didn't want to use my credit card or participate in any monetary transactions today (even though I technically used my credit card on Tuesday to fill up my tank of gas after midnight); and I talked myself into believing that the price of gas will go up if I waited a day.

Well, guess the fuck what?  Coming home I see all the gas stations in town have dropped their price of gas by a dime a gallon.  I thought I had a bargain with the 10 cent-off coupon I used last night; combined with Double Coupon Tuesday and an extra three cents-per off for rewards club members, I saved myself about $3.75.  But it turns out that I in fact wasted more than $1.60 because I just couldn't fucking wait my ass to fill this up until today.

Goddammit, I so hate myself right now.  I freak out over imaginary things, I make the wrong decisions, I respond to bad things happening by making more bad things happen, and I just forget shit.  What the hell is wrong with me?

I have to punish myself.  That $1.60 extra I spent on gas I have to make up somewhere.  I just don't know why things continue not to break my way.  I am always stepping over myself, always making mistakes.  I can't take it anymore.

I need to pass out.  Forget all of this, at least for a while.

The Fucking Trunk Has Been Open This Whole Fucking Time?!?!?!

I just went to my car.  I wanted to get the Monopoly game board that I had in my trunk with the early pieces I already got when the game started at McDonald's.  (I'm such a whore for Monopoly at McDonald's; I ate at Mickey D's three times in about eight days.)  And besides, I wanted to make sure the car is OK.  I haven't moved the car once I put it in the garage, but who knows, maybe the tape on the power window fell down.  Just wanted to check.

Good thing I did.  'Cause I'll be goddamned, the first thing I see is the trunk open.  I'm guessing the last time I did anything with the car -- which is when I pulled it in on Tuesday -- I got something out of the car that evening.  I don't know how in the fuck I did not manage to close the trunk.  So you mean to tell me that the fucking trunk has been open for a whole fucking week?!?!?!

That in itself I don't mind.  But the trunk light has been on the whole time because the trunk's been open.  And yeah, it's just the trunk light.  But they say that if you keep the headlights on all night you'll burn out the battery?  Same thing with this, no doubt in my mind.  Really, I feel like I've been "using the car" 24 hours a day for the past week.  At the very least I feel as if I've "driven" my car each day the past week.  Thinking of it that way, I'm only giving my car a "rest" tomorrow before I have to drive it Wednesday to The Mechanic Around The Corner.  They'll have to fuck with it, and then I'll get it back in a few days (fixed hopefully), and I'll feel pressure to use that car instead of my parents' minivan, and so instead of giving my car a much-needed rest for a week, the battery's been on for the past, like, two fucking weeks.

This is bullshit.  Goddamn, and all because somehow the trunk wasn't closed.

I Lack Follow-Through

Opened up my check for the Vikings game I did a few weeks ago.  The bright side is I needed this check, as well as one from the U., both of which surprisingly came in today.  I was going to cash only my temp check, but I now I have three!

Two downsides.  First, the total of these three checks still did not put me above three grand in my checking account (after I took out money for the week).  The other thing is something I expected in my Vikes check: An extra five bucks for parking I mistakenly and needlessly paid for for a game I did not a few weeks ago, but on Week 1 of the season.

The thing is, I told my contact at the network about this.  She said she would put it in for this check.  However, I did not remind her to do this the week after this later I game I did for the network, and now I get a check only for my day's service.  I guess it would have been her job to remember, but if I wanted it so much, I would have been kind of a prick and e-mailed her.

Moreover, I should have told her about the $5 out of my pocket the week after this first game, but I didn't.  Why?  Oh, a bunch of things -- my car, finding work, avoiding my parents, general forgetfulness.  But again, if this was important to me, I would have alerted this contact sooner.

I guess this is something wrong with me.  I notice something I don't like, I stew for a bit, and then I let it pass my memory.  That might be good for insults and bad situations (even though I don't let it pass my memory, those things I remember for a long time), but bad for when I need to stand up and ask for something that I deserve.  I do this is a lot for a long of things I thought important at the time I remember that I wanted them.  Of course, what those things are I don't remember now.

I suck.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -2).  In a survey where all entrants lost at least once, I have to give it to the U. volleyballers because 1) they won twice to their one loss and 2) one of those victories was over a ranked Purdue team, in four sets, albeit at home.  I went to their other win, a Wednesday sweep at the Sports Pavilion over Wisconsin, even though they had a hell of a hard time putting away a squad that they are superior to on paper in every category.

But the loss should be the thing you fixate on.  It was a four-set defeat in Nebraska.  The Goofs won the first set over the Huskers at 18, but then Nebraska asserted itself like the third-ranked team in the nation.  In volleyball, the score can basically tell you how good the teams are playing against each other.  Do you know the phrase, "The score isn't indicative of how close/much of a blowout the game was?"  No, not in volleyball.  The second set the U. lost 27-25 -- extra points.  The third they dropped 25-23 -- played hard, but they couldn't push the Lady Huskers into extras.  Finally they lost the fourth set, 25-16.  I call this the "finishing kick" of a team that will lose a volleyball match in the end.  It looked like the squad just threw all their energy into those three sets, and they were pooped by the time they were facing the end of the game.

Luckily they got that loss out of the way.  They are 17-4 overall (8-2 in conference play), so their NCAA tournament berth is assured.  They host Northwestern Friday.

#-2: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -1).  Ah, Michigan Tech.  What a nice way to ease into the beginning of this program's final season in the WCHA ... wait, what do you say?  THEY LOST TO MICHIGAN TECH?!?!?!  Goddamn, they lost their first conference game Friday in Houghton, Mich., 5-3.  How? At least they righted that ship, beating the Huskies the next night (last night), 3-2.  That gave Head Coach Don Lucia his 600th victory in his career.  Congratulations to him.

Should this club be worried.  Well, they have more than a week to worry about it.  The only game they're playing is an exhibition Friday against The United States Under-18 team.  They return to real play next week.

#-3: Vikings (Last Week: 0).  I had a bad feeling they were going to lost to Washington, and that Robert Griffin III, the man they could have drafted last year if they had the smarts to lose a game that they won last year, namely the one against Washington, was going to make them pay.  That 70+ run by RGIII that salted the game away reminded me of that miracle run by Steve Young against the Vikes lo those many years ago:
What the fuck is the deal with the ViQueens giving up long, memorable runs by Quarterbacks?  It's become our thing for some goddamn reason.

I was upset after I learned they lost last week, but now I'm not, surprisingly.  Last week New England lost in Seattle, and San Diego choked on a huge lead and lost to Denver on a vintage second-half performance by Peyton Manning.  This is the NFL; your team will look brilliant one week and look downright stupid the next.  Let's not make too many judgments based only one game.

That being said, this week's (today's) game against The Bastard Chicago Cardinals at the Dome could push the Vikes down to 4-3.  They have a great defense, and like Minnesota, they have a pop-gun offense.

#-4: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  This club began the road trip that ends their regular season with a 2-0 loss in Indiana.  They had 16 shots to the Hoosiers's 6, but they couldn't finish, goddammit.  I don't really  have anything else to say besides the regular season, the B1G season, and probably the season period ends for Minnesota at Purdue today (Sunday) afternoon and Nebraska late Friday afternoon.

#-5: Gopher football (Last Week: -4).  A 38-13 shit-kicking by Wisconsin keeps Paul Bunyan's Axe in Mad Town and extends their losing streak to three in a row.  And it didn't really have to be this way.

Like the Twins, the ones who touch the ball the most, the Quarterbacks, have become the team's biggest liability.  MarQueis Gray is still nursing his injury, and Head Coach has lost all faith that he can thrown the ball like any normal human being.  Meanwhile, Max Shortell has been ineffective whenever he wasn't hurt.

Ask yourself, Is that a good enough reason to burn the redshirt of a guy you were determined to stash for next year, when you are already seven games into your season?  That is what Jerry Kill decided to do Friday night when he put in freshman and Mankato West graduate Philip Nelson as the starting QB for the loss to the Badgers Saturday.  He played well, but so what?

Shortell was stashed on the bench.  Meanwhile, Gray was able to play, but now he has been relegated to playing Wide Receiver, for crissake.  And they still lost.

So I understand Kill is desperate for wins, or at least live bodies that won't get hurt under center.  But if he thinks the season is lost, why not just punt the year and send out either Gray or Shortell for the rest of the season?  First of all, the goal is getting to six wins and shelling out a bunch of athletic department money for a shitty deal to play in a shitty bowl.  You are only two wins away from that.  Are you so desperate that you will give up a year of Nelson's eligibility just to reach six wins?  Second of all, remember, the Goofs lost, so Kill might not be able to find the fix no matter what he does.  Finally, if this goal of reaching a bowl is no longer tenable, just piss away the rest of the year.  Use Gray and his shitty delivery.  Haul out Shortell and his inaccurate gun and glass body.  (And isn't Shortell a freshman too?  Very early to move on if he is, isn't it?)  Just promise Gopher Nation that 2013 will be brighter with Nelson at the helm.

At the very least now, Nelson has to start every game the rest of the year.  If he doesn't, why the fuck do you burn his redshirt just so you rest him?  And seeing Gray hung out to dry as a wideout is a tacit admission that he wasn't developing into a QB of any repute -- a la Robert Griffin III.  At any rate, the future is now -- but what price future?  (I think that makes sense.)

Looking at the rest of the sched, there are only two good opportunities to reach the six-win promised land.  One of those is next Saturday's game -- home to Purdue.

Forgot To Turn Off The Alarm

Had that cabaret show after coming home to blog after eating at McDonald's after visiting The Store after going to work, so I needed rest and thought I would get a decent amount -- about five hours -- after hitting the pillow at around 1.  But then, even though I was dead tired, I was lolling around my bed for half an hour. Maybe it was that Americano I had at the cabaret show that kept me up.

But unfortunately, the watch woke me up.  At 6:15, the time I have to wake up for my temp job.  I forgot to turn off the alarm last night.  So I woke up 75 minutes before I had to, and I don't think I fell back asleep before the alarm on my cellphone, the one I did set up for this morning, went off.

I am dragging my knuckles through the day today.  Buddha help me.

Store Status Update

After I work I swung by The Store to dump some stuff into the dumpster for my parents as they're away.

I didn't know what to expect from The Old Lady itself.  They still go every day there, for a few hours at least, but I assume it's to dump shit like I did a couple hours ago.  So The Store could just be a weathered shell for all I know.

The verdict: They are going through cleaning stuff out, but The Store still looks somewhat like The Store the last time I saw it more than a month ago.  Walking up and down all three aisles, I saw that more stuff has been removed, mostly the food, although the housewares and plates on the main, left aisle have largely been left intact.  There's still lots of stuff in the back as well, and the most heartening moment when I stepped in for the first time was hearing the whirr of the last of the remaining four freezers still operating.

However, when I tried to light incense at the big Buddha close to the office (straight as the crow flies from the main door), I was shocked that it was gone.  Completely gone.  That thing has been there as long as I can remember.  It may have been there since Day One.  And now it's gone.  Did my folks take it with them to place in their retirement condo?

Also gone were the tapes my parents used to rent out.  They stopped that practice more than two decades ago, but I remember it being a very popular segment of The Store's business.  We had no barcodes or anything; instead Mother would take a huge notebook and write down which tape was being checked out, when, and to whom.  Yeah, a lot of the tapes were never returned.  Down in the basement there are (or were) many more tapes beyond the rows upon rows that my parents took from The Store years ago, so I assume that is my parents put them after taking them from The Store.

Seventy-five minutes and seven-plus boxes of Bai Ya-Ning leaves (I think that's how that's spelled; it's Thai) later, I was done.  And now I am fucking tired.  Too bad there will be no rest for this wicked man; I have to watch America's Next Top Model and Washington Week, and then I have to attend The Lovely Creatures cabaret show in their new digs, Bryant-Lake Bowl, for the first time ever.  And then I have to go to work at 9 in the morning.  Fuck me.

I Am Typhoid Unforgivable Wetness

My supervisor at my temp job went home sick very early today, maybe 90 minutes after I and the other temps started work.

A little later, the guy I started this assignment with said that a lot of people have been out sick.

For about the past week, maybe several days before that, I have had this really bad cough and cold.  They always say that if you feel even the slightest bit sick, don't show up for work.  Easy to say unless you're 1) a temp and not a salaried worker and 2) in dire need of money and won't be able to make up a day's worth of wages if you stay home.  Besides, I don't think I'm so sick that I would be ridden in bed all day.  If I stayed home, I would be doing stuff anyway.  So why not work and earn money?

Except that now I'm paranoid that I'm the one who made everyone, including my supe, ill.  This is the time of year where everybody comes down with something, so maybe it's not me.  In fact, it probably isn't me -- yeah, I'll say it.  Problem is, even though I work in a room at the end of this entire office (it winds its way around a center bank of elevators that is the focus of this five-story building; I guess you could say we're one vertex of a triangular floor), my loud and incessant coughing probably could be heard by everyone, especially I was walking around.  So even if I'm not the one who gave everybody, for lack of a better term, the flu, they remember me being noisy and just assume that I'm the one who gave everybody the flu.  And I'm sorry, but I can't completely dismiss the idea that my supervisor will blame me for giving him what he got.  Which means that any faint hope of me somehow getting an extension on my assignment beyond my current task, or being called back for the same task next winter, is probably long gone.

Expenses Without Receipt

• Yesterday, Wednesday the 18th ... the only thing I spent was a hot dog, Coke and program at the University of Minnesota volleyball team's sweep of Wisconsin: $9.50.
• ETA: that I went to a place called Williams afterward to try out a place for our alumni club.  God I wish I had written down how much the place really costs because I can't find the receipt.  They had a drink special and a food special, so although I ate at the game, I ate again anyway.  I think it set me back, with tip: $12.
• Sunday the 14th I got my rocks off on a 2-on-1 (see previous post): $100.

And that's all I got for now.  Had to put these down.

Got Double-Teamed Sunday!!!

I thought I was being only figuratively jerked around. Turned out I got literally jerked around ... and I got more than I thought I would!

I was worrying over my car and wondering if my parents would bitch about me not doing chores on my day off. So I decided I would rake some leaves -- creating only one bag of leaves -- while I wait for my All-Time Favorite to call in. See, a week before I received a text from her saying that she would be at ***i's party. I couldn't go because Mother would get mad. Several days later, my ATF, ***e*, texted me again that she's in trouble with making rent and wants to see if she could give me a "hot" massage ... with happy ending. Now, I really don't have the money to spare, but I wanted to help. Plus, I hadn't seen ***e* in awhile. Oh, and happy ending, too.  She gave me her home address, so I just assumed that it'd be a one-on-one thing, a situation that I have longed for. So fuck yeah, I said fuck yeah!

We tried hooking up once before, but haggling over price and her babysitter not coming on time put the kibosh on that. Another positive with my parents leaving on their road trip is that I could remedy this quickly. But as dawn broke on Sunday, I started to receive mixed signals.

First off, ***e* texted me that morning and said that she was stuck up north, so our late morning session had to be delayed to the early afternoon. Fine, so long as I could get out of the house before The 'Rents come back and come back after they do.

The texts continued throughout the day. Running late ... go to my apartment and park on my spot ... I'll text you when I get close, yadda-yadda-yadda. But as I was planning to leave for her place (which is very close, only 15 minutes away ... isn't it awesome that I live so close to a hot stripper?) she texts me again. Change of location -- come down to my friend's place, a place I have gone to for a house party, and we'll do that there. Fuck, really? I hate changes. But I already made a committment, so I drove down rather than up (which, to admit, was closer to home than her place).

So I go through both front doors and see that ***e* was there, tight clothing, smoking weed as usual. I didn't see her friend (don't know if I should use her stage or real name here, so I just won't name her), but more importantly, I didn't see anybody else there. What the heck is going on? No matter. Seeing her made me hard, so after walking over to her living room, I did what I usually do in front of ***e*: I took my dick out of my pants. And I love her because she doesn't register any shock. In fact, through her high haze she said, "That is the hardest I've ever seen it!"

"It's just waiting to see what you're going to do with it. Wanna touch it?" And I walked over to her, weapon out, to the living room couch, where she was reclining after another hit off her pipe. She hooked it with her left pinky finger. Good enough.

We had a plan to surprise her friend and owner of the house: I was going to stand to the side of the archway from which she would enter from the backyard. While ***e* called to her from the sofa (within view from the other side), she would come through, look to her left, and see Mr. Happy being very happy. Well, that didn't work. Maybe I didn't understand the plan, but she just kind of blew past me and into her bedroom. And when she turned around and saw me hard and out, she didn't miss a beat. "I guess she's not impressed," I told ***e*.

I shouldn't have worried, about anything. ***e* closed the blinds in the front windows. I walked to the front, where the foyer had a bed and some chairs, and ***e* turned around the giant jumbo old-school TV so I could see a little bit of the Jets blowing out the Colts. And then we got naked. ***e*'s friend told her jokingly, "Get naked," and she did. ***e* told me to strip, but I said I wanted to get stripped, so after ***e* got totally naked (I totally would've taken all those clothes off of her), she took my clothes off. Then her friend from behind puts her hands around my waist and starts to undo my pants. ***e* had to tell her to untie the drawstring, and then unbutton a snap button (she was trying to slip the not-there button through an eyelet because all pants have shank button flies, which is stupid), but once she did that, pow! Down went my pants!

While ***e* looked behind me and smacked me on my ass -- she is a total whore, and I love it!!! -- her friend got naked. This was the girl who quickly scooted away when I wanted to escort her and ***e* to their car at the end of ***i's party, so I didn't know if she was a bitch. But as she was lifting up her Victoria's secret long shirt and I was trying to tug down her panties and feeling up her big, natural tits, I realized that she showed none of the behavior I thought she was copping after that party. Maybe it was because ***e* was going to give her $40 of the $100 I was going to give ***e*.

Her friend put her hand around my cock and pulled. I like that. She then got some lube from her bedroom and came back. We were both standing there, the three of us, mere steps from the front door. If the blinds were open, they would have seen three pairs of asses, just standing there, my hands caressing their butts, their hands doing something turned away from them. What they were doing, of course, was masturbating me. Where was this massage ***e* promised? Whatevs.

I noticed that her friend was doing all the manual work; ***e* was making jokes about taking this tableau as a photo and saying I should shave my pubes while mainly concentrating on my balls. I wish my penis was long enough for them to lay both of their hands on it. Within two or three minutes of our session starting, and about 10 minutes after I got there, I felt myself "go over the edge." "Oh my God," I said to them, and ***e*, the pro, pushed away the bed that was in front of us. Her and her friend continued to work on me. And finally, I ejaculated. They were pretty weak and short ropes of semen, but I don't think I've ever had a more satisfying cum getting stimulated by other women. I was half-hanging on to both girls as I was screaming like a little girl, screaming over both the shooting and the subsequent pain. The good pain, of course. And then her friend cleaned it up and we went about putting the TV back. I loved the fact that we were just talking to each other about pedestrian stuff, like bathmats and her hosting future parties at this pace, while naked. I'm glad we could talk like that, otherwise shit would get weird.

But, even though I wanted to just hang out and order pizza, we had to leave. ***e* changed all these plans because she had to pick up her son from the babysitter. I tried to stretch it by talking to her friend on this bed about how to improve attendance at her parties -- totally naked, of course, while they both got their clothes on. But I had to get dressed myself, and we were done, oh, about an hour after I got there.

I really can't complain, though. One of my wildest dreams, getting a two-on-one when it comes to sexual favors, came true on Sunday. Plus I only had to pay $100 for it. Awesome! Goddamn, I have to do that again in the future. Hopefully when all my stress goes away, I can look back and realize for real that that day was one of the best days of my life.

My Wildest Dream Come True. And Then My Worst Nightmare Come True.

I was scared as hell all day that I wouldn't be able to start the car to bring it into the garage, like I did when I began my trip home yesterday.  But it ignited just fine.  It's still knocking and vibrating like hell, but I got it into the garage (taking over the space vacated by my folks' new car) without a problem.  It "drove" a lot better than it did since Sunday.

So I feel good enough to talk about this:

Oh.  My.  Fucking.  God.  That is so awesome!  I have always wanted to fuck a fitness instructor who tricks on the side.  There's this one woman at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) who is a fitness instructor, but I get the feeling that if I ever took my dick out in front of her, she would only touch it in order to break it off.  But goddamn, a fitness instructor whore???  It's like my dream come true!!!  And it so helps that she's pretty fucking hot, too, doesn't it?

But then comes the nightmare: The finding out.  I can't imagine being a resident in a town as small as Kennebunk, Maine waiting to see if and when my name comes out.  I live in much bigger metropolitan area, but if they're going to release addresses too ... well, for one thing I definitely would be thrown out of the house by my folks.  My God, I won't know what to do or where to go.

Therefore, I would hope the sex would be worth it.

Addendum To: Oh My God, I Fucking Hate My Car Again

However bad it was last night, the car seemed substantially worse today.

More pronounced shaking, and more shaking at all speeds and while idling.  And that was going to work.  Coming back I heard sounds as soon as I put the car in reverse.  Is that the fuel filter?  I passed up the first gas station because I didn't think all my problems could be solved just by adding to a very empty tank.  But then I regretted it, and I was lucky to pass by another one shortly thereafter.

I filled it up halfway, turned the car on, and ... some of the sounds were still there, although that sucking noise from underneath was gone.  Great, it's now the fuel filter and something else.

The rest of the trip I was on pins and needles.  I liken my car now to a man trying to jog with an air capacity of only half a lung.  There were still no warning lights on the meters, but the vibration was absolutely overwhelming.  Continuous shaking like that and I felt parts of the car were going to come loose up the side street I was taking home.  Stepping off the gas pedal was a relief; it was the only time the car didn't shake, and therefore was acting like its old self.

But I made it.  It helped a lot that I encountered fewer red lights than usual.  But I swear, this is the most fearful I was driving my car while it was drivable.  The only time I was more scared was the time the transmission busted on my way to my night shift job, and I was stuck in the street.

God, I'm going to have to pour another fucking grand to fix this, too?  It's not worth it, it really isn't.

And that's why I have to add that I'm very goddamn fortunate that tomorrow my parents are taking their road trip, thereby allowing me to take their minivan (unbeknownst to them).  I need to give my credit card and checking account a break, so I need to reach at least the 23rd (and more likely the 25th) so the billing cycle reaches the next month.  I'm leaving out paying for last month's bill, which is due tomorrow, so I'm not going to get that much of a break.  But I had no reason to believe that they were going now.  Otherwise I would have to bring the car in, like, today or this weekend, and I'd get reamed up the ass, and I still wouldn't be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Now, I'll drive my car only twice while they're gone: Into the garage (so no one fucks with the taped-up window, which now is the fucking least of my worries) and to The Mechanic Around The Corner.  My stress is alleviated -- and now that my folks are away doing their own thing, I'll have the house all to myself, which means no demands and I can put anything wherever the fuck I want.

Not let's hope their minivan holds up.  Christ, I need it to.

Oh My God, I Hate My Fucking Car Again

Now more than it has since at least the cold snap began on Thursday, when I pull to a stop my car has this hard thumping where the engine is, like it's shaking.  I thought it was the transmission, but I put 500 mL in it the past three days and this has come back.

Maybe it's the electrical.  Maybe the terminals need cleaning.  Maybe it's the engine.  Maybe it's the variable valves that need tuning.  All I know is that there's nothing lighting up on the console, and even though I was scared as shit going to and coming from the MRI job tonight, I got home in one piece.

But coming home in peace is a separate issue, and a mental state that has eluded me in this contraption ever since it started pissing oil by the ounce.  If it's going to be the leaks and then the power window and then the transmission and then the "second sound" (which, I have to be honest, has stopped since I poured a grand into rehabbing the engine) and now this ... even if it's cheaper than to make payments on a new car, the psychic pain of shoes continuing to drop is getting to me.  I remember My Father saying that he'll take the Mercedes-Benz SUV out of storage for me to use for the winter.  I'll be paying premium gas, but right now, I'll take it.

There's one saving grace: My folks are taking a road trip for two weeks.  That allows me to use their minivan, which has at least 10,000 more miles and yet now feels a lot safer than my car.  They'll understand while I put my car in their garage spot, right?  I had planned to wait till the next credit card billing cycle to fix the power window; now, I can get that done at any time, not just on the weekend, and hopefully they'll get to the bottom of this fucking pounding at stops, too.  Of course, if it's another engine repair that costs hundreds, well, fuck it.  Goodbye, my first car.

Man, I can't just get through life not worrying about a 19-year-old car, can I?

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Vikings (Re-Entry!).  Now here is something you didn't expect to see from our ViQueens, even though it's great to see: Thoroughly dominating a team you are supposed to beat.  I saw their 30-7 defeat of The Bastard Houston Oilers in person Sunday, and from the get-go it looked like that team wasn't into playing at all.  On Vikings teams past, though, that usually meant that they would play down to the level and enthusiasm of their opponent, so that the game would be much closer than it should be ... and sometimes the Vikes would end up losing.

Not so here.  The defense in particular came to play, holding once-superstar Running Back Chris Johnson to, what, 35 yards rushing?  We have to admit that it helps that the other team's starting Quarterback is a 37-year-old Matt Hasselback.  Meanwhile, an intriguing bar argument can be made about the Minnesota offense: Is Percy Harvin now a more-important piece than Adrian Peterson?  As the NFL continues to evolve into a passing league, and as we all (at least quietly) continue to babysit All Day on his ACL injury before we feel he's really OK to let loose, Harvin has quietly become one of the most-productive Wide Receivers in the NFL.  Defenses now have to engineer gameplans to first stop Harvin, not Peterson.  Is that a good thing?  And, by God, could Peterson be, gulp, jealous?

They passed an important test last week with flying colors.  But this late afternoon brings another one: Can they defeat a team on the road featuring a wunderkind at QB, Washington's Robert Griffith III?  He was concussed last week, but he's sure to start, and I have a feeling he play very well.  But this is also a game the Vikes can win.  Can you believe that they can be 5-1?

#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!).  I've got to give it up for the Minnesota men's hockey program, which began their season with a resounding sweep at Mariucci of future Big Ten foes Michigan St.  And they crushed the Spartans, beating them 5-1 Friday and 7-1 Saturday.  If this is how it's going to be in the new conference starting next year, this program shouldn't miss a beat.

This team, for the first time in a long time, is loaded on paper.  They've returned much of their scoring punch plus their six top defensemen, who also contributed to goals.  (The return of Mike Guentzel as Associate Head Coach is the most important reason the U. is back to prominence; without him Don Lucia is apparently adrift.)  The only big question mark is in goal, where Kent Patterson aged out and whose successor comes from a junior and three freshmen.  I assume that the junior, Andover's Michael Shibrowski, is the leading contender, but I have a feeling that the race is wide open.  If the blueliners do their job, however, finding a great goalie shouldn't be that much of a problem.

Because of all that, Minnesota came in second in at least the USCHO.com Top 20 preseason poll, behind only defending national champion Boston College.  Didn't they lose a lot of players?  Anyhoo, they should maintain their #2 spot this weekend at perennial WCHA doormat Michigan Tech.  Man, I'm going to miss the Gophers beating up that team on the regular.

#-2: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1).  I'm still convinced that this team will fade quietly in the Sweet Sixteen, but it is a very good sign that they have won three in a row, are 6-1 in conference play, and are 15-3 overall after beating Iowa in Iowa in four sets Friday.  (On a side note: I think Iowa has been the perennial doormat for Big Ten women's volleyball, just like Michigan Tech has been for WCHA men's hockey.  I really don't remember the last time a Hawkeyes squad any good, let alone ever made the NCAA Tournament.  That school needs some help.)  And somehow they have been tenth in the AVCA poll for what seems like the past month.  Maybe the club needs to surprise people in order to move up.

And they will get that chance this afternoon: Nebraska in Lincoln.  Good luck.

#-3: Gopher soccer (Re-Entry!).  I am sad that I won't be able to see any more games of this team.  (I think I've seen three games this year, all before their Minnesota Gold Classic.)  They may not be more than an above-average team, but there are few sports sites around the Twin Cities area I want to go see a game outdoors in the fall than Robbie Stadium.  There are so many trees around that you are awash in orange and amber when the team plays on an autumn afternoon.  I still have that image in my head when I took in a game several years ago.  Simply beautiful.

The cold I'm still fighting off prevents me from seeing the final home game of the regular season this afternoon, versus Northwestern.  Well, that and the fact that I'm going to get a massage and a hand job from my All-Time Favorite in about four hours -- man, I can't wait!  She says we can hang out after our session, get pizza and watch football.  I hope I can rest on top of her,naked, semen dangling from the tip of my pisshole, and slowly fall asleep.  That should be glorious ... oh hey, what's up?

Their conference schedule bunched six B1G games into a pair of three-game home blocks, which made it a tad more difficult to get a chance to plan to see them.  But some home cooking may have helped the team: This screening week they played to a scoreless tie with Iowa, then shut out Illinois 3-0.  They have gone 3-1-1 in their last five and now have their, uh, neck above .500 at 8-6-1 overall (though 3-3-1 in-conference). They finish their regular season (at least, though no one's holding their breath they're going to play in the NCAAs) with a three-game road trip, which they will start Friday at Indiana.

#-4: Gopher football (Re-Entry!).  I must admit that dreams of them playing in the Big Ten Championship Game were forming in my head after their 4-0 start.  Well, UNLV, Western Michigan and Syracuse must be worse than anyone imagined because they have starting the B1G with two losses where they scored only 13 points both times.

I mean, Northwestern has gotten to be a more solid team under Pat Fitzgerald.  But I really thought they could take the Wildcats, especially since it was the Homecoming game.  And they only racked up 208 yards in total offense.  Maybe it was the rain, but once again they got off to a slow start; Lamonte Edwards biffed the opening kickoff and Northwestern got the ball at the U. 26.  One rush by Venric Mark on the next play and the Goofs were down 7-0 only 11 seconds into the fucking game.  They trailed after the first quarter 14-3 and 21-10 at the half.  Minnesota scored a field goal in the third and had plenty of chances to score at the end of the game, but they just couldn't.  Your final score: 21-13 NU.

Why couldn't they score?  Well, that offensive line of theirs couldn't stop a feather with the way Max Shortell was consistently getting dropped on his ass.  But now the QB's are the problem.  Shortell got hurt, which prompted MarQueis Gray to come into the game despite the fact that he's still injured.  And it looks like he tweaked an ankle during the loss, too.  More discouraging is more proof that neither player is good enough to lead a BcS conference squad; combined they were 16-for-30 passing for only 169 yards.  Gray ran or got sacked nine times for 86 yards and had a touchdown, but he threw an interception as well.  They may have a #1 Quarterback and a #1A, but the adage seems to be true here: When you say you have two #1 QB's, you actually have no #1 QB's.

And now Jerry Kill had to go and suffer another seizure!  I was talking to a fellow alum who was at the game yesterday afternoon and he said Kill was mad as a wet rooster throughout the game.  He thought he needed to settle down or else he'd be in trouble, and sure enough, after the postgame press conference he seized up.  Maybe he knows this season isn't working out as well as he wants to.

Maybe they can turn it around next week.  Oh, they are at Wisconsin next week.  Never mind.

So all I wanted to do is exercise and take a nap and go to the game, but my car continues to shake and it starts to smell and I didn't get to take a nap.  My God I'm looking forward to my massage with happy ending tomorrow.

Maintaining My High-Maintenance Car

So the two main problems with my car -- at least for now -- are the power window and the transmission.  (The engine could always be a third one, and the leaks are not stopping at all, but pouring a grand into it means that I sealed up all the leaks, therefore it damn well better be, at worst, a problem on the backburner.)

---

Today my car was shaking as I drove it to work.  I thought it was the cold and the wires were still adjusting to the weather; I think we had the first hard frost of the year this morning.

But when I drove it to the library after work, it continued to shake.  And it mostly did its shaking while I was slowing to a stop and as I began accelerating.  Uh-oh -- I now realize that it couldn't be the cold.  This was just like the last time when I was freaking out about a month ago over what I thought was the tranny having trouble shifting.

But that's what the bottle of transmission fluid in the trunk is for!  So even though I was panicking like hell, I drove off to a side street, popped the hood, and poured in about half the remaining bottle.  And when I turned the car back on ... well, have you ever seen folks with, I think, muscular dystrophy, who are continually shaking, and when they turn on what is basically an electric pacemaker implanted in their bodies, the shaking immediately stops?  Fluid:car::electric pacemaker:person with MD

Of course this raises a lot of questions.  When will I have to do add more again?  Did I add enough this time?  (I felt some shaking as I finally drove home, but maybe I'm paranoid.)  Will I get the shaking signs when I need to add more the next time?  And what happens if I overfill, something The Mechanic Around The Corner keeps telling me not to do?

Look, I can maintain the tranny every week, but if I'm cutting things close because I need to check on it with more frequency, that's just more reason to say goodbye to the car.

---

Meanwhile, what I was afraid could happen did happen through the overnight Wednesday/Thursday; somebody vandalized the window.  Maybe.

I was in a rush to leave for work.  While I was driving I looked over my shoulder and saw that the window was in fact down.  The wind blowing into the car and pushing against the back of my neck made it a cold, cold drive.

But later in the day, upon closer inspection, maybe no one tampered with it.  All the tape was there; nothing was missing or torn off or cut away.  What happened the evening before this is that I had to move my car from its normal parking spot to just behind my parents' minivan because they wanted to take their new car out for a test drive.  I didn't want to move it again, even though I knew that parking my car further down the driveway and much closer to the street will invite someone who's walking down the street at night to play with the tape holding up the power window.  I don't think our neighborhood is a dangerous one, but shit happens.  And yet I was willing to take the risk.

So I was hopping mad that somebody could have really fucked with my car.  But nothing was stolen and nothing seemed to be taken.  Which invited the possibility that the tape unstuck on its own.  Whenever I drive I hear a sound from the window back there.  I thought it was the wind blowing through openings through the tape where I did not lay it totally flat on the window or frame.  But instead, possibly it's the sound of the tape becoming unglued.

I grew frustrated Thursday after work that I would again have to run-run back to The Mechanic Around The Corner to help me re-tape the fucker.  (The cost of repairing it is cheap enough for me to do it, I just want to wait a credit card billing cycle before I add even more goddamn charges on it.)  But I tried pushing up on the window on my own anyway.  Even though it's vertical, I actually managed to do it, pull it up all the way.  I took off the tape that might have gotten unstuck, pulled off what looked like "good" tape still sticking and put it at the top of the window frame, then got new tape (which I also put in my trunk -- this is why you keep shit with you at all times!!!) and set it back like new ... well, closed, anyway.

It feels good that I can do something like this on my own.  This may not be a true sign of independence, but it wasn't going to be good for my ego to run to The Mechanic Around The Corner because that would have been three weeks straight where I've contacted him about something.  I plan on doing this in a couple weeks, and hopefully that problem would resolve itself, and I can stop worrying about how my car is going to do with me driving it somewhere.  Keep your fingers crossed.

Is It A Virus?

I've mentioned how this is the time of year where I get a cold, which usually is my body's way of adjusting to the colder weather.  What happens is that one day I get, the next day I suffer through it, that night I go to sleep early with the heater on, and the next morning I'm better because I basically sweat the fucking thing out of me.

Well, the onset of the cold was Sunday, and I'm still not better.  In fact it's gotten worse; I was hacking a lot, and loudly, at work, much to the distraction of the guy working in the same room as I.  It's worse because I work for a nursing non-profit.

I haven't put the heater on, but the two nights prior to last night, I turned in early and got what my body needed for sleep.  And still I'm not good.  Should I crank up the heat?  Is it a virus?  Am I just getting old and no longer able to fend these colds off 48 hours after I get them?  Am I dying?

Just About The Dumbest Behind-Sports Ticket Coupon You'll Ever See, And This Doesn't Help The Credibility Of The WNBA One Bit

Thought Game 3 of the WNBA Eastern Conference Finals -- the winner of which will face my well-rested (or is it rusty?) Minnesota Lynx here for Game 1 of the WNBA Finals Sunday night -- was today, because this blog post would tie in nicely.  Instead it's tomorrow.  Eh, I'll do it anyway.

My friend invited me out to the Lynx's final regular season game Monday, Sep. 17.  He wanted to get to Target Center early, and so he dropped off my ticket to a mutual friend of ours, who works as an usher at the arena.

When I met him, he took out my ticket, scanned it, turned it around, and pointed something out: "This is a coupon for a Mongolian grill that I have never heard.  But look closer."  (This is probably not even close to what he said, but he said something.)  I did; it's a chain restaurant called bd's Mongolian Grill -- and its headquarters are in Ferndale, Mich.  There are restaurants mostly in Michigan and Ohio, and a place or two in ten other states -- but there is none in Minnesota.

So why the fuckety-fuck is there a coupon for a restaurant that doesn't even exist in Minnesota?!?!?!

Maybe it could be WNBA-related, but there isn't a team in Detroit.  There was one, the Shock, but they were stolen away to Tulsa, Okla.  (There isn't a bd's there, either.)  So the only thing I can think of is that the Timberwolves, who own the Lynx, needed to cut back on the organization's budget in some way, they asked around, and someone from another state sent them ticket stock they didn't need.  I can't see the Wolves or the Vikings or the Twins or the Wild or the Gophers doing this.  Maybe not even the Saints or the Swarm.

Oh, and I just looked even closer; the coupon ($3 off any stir-fry bowl, by the way) expired July 31.  SMH.

Expenses Without Receipt

• Monday, October 8 ... I decide to try out for lunch the new Bacon Portabella Melt from Wendy's, the only fast food restaurant close to where I work (it's across the street).  Pretty good!  Also pretty expensive: $7.10.
• I then go to the library to print some stuff out: 20 cents.
• And then I went to Menards, and on my way out I find a dime in the parking lot.  An Infusion of: 10 cents.

That's it.

Another Sign Of The End Of The Store

This is from a couple days ago: After dinner I look for my mail and see that there was only one piece of junk mail.  I don't think that would invite a response, but Mother said from the kitchen that "they don't get too much mail anymore."

Oh, you mean like for The Store?  Great, thanks for reminding me that the family bedrock has been put down, Mother.

One of the sure signs that the seasons are changing is the day I get sick.  When it gets cold I don't add layers of clothing.  It's when my nose starts to run and I get really tired that I add clothing.

Today is that day.  Maybe not wearing a jacket these past several days was the cause.  Probably.  Hopefully I'll be able to watch Dancing With The Stars and Hawaii Five-O and still have enough sleep to feel fully rested for tomorrow.  Ugh.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -3).  I am somewhat surprised that after sweeping ranked Ohio St. and being swept by #1 Penn St. last week, the U. volleyballers maintained their #10 ranking.  They won't go down after this week, taking both Michigan teams at the Sports Pavilion.  Last (Saturday) night's victory over Michigan St. was noteworthy in that the Gophers came back to win the last two sets to beat the Spartans in five.

They may clearly be in a tier lower than the Nittany Lions, but they are 5-1 in the Big Ten.  But they played their last four games at home.  They hit the road for the next two games.  Only the first, Friday against Iowa, will count in next week's survey.

#-Infinity: Twins (Last Week: -4).  Well, at least the Twinks were consistent on their way out.  They went to Toronto to finish the regular season, and they got swept.  They finish the year losing five in a row.  After late hopes that they'd eclipse the just-as-rudderless Cleveland Indians, they finished dead last in the American League Central for a second consecutive year.  They are the worst team in the AL for a second consecutive year.  And even though they improved by three games, they finish the regular season 66-96.

So the staff changes that happened after the season was over were expected, even though they came with the usual groans that the firings mean nothing because they don't play.  Third base coach Steve Liddle -- fired.  First base coach Jerry White -- canned.  Athletic trainer Rick McWane, source of more than a couple diagnoses of player injuries that turned out to be wrong -- shitcanned.  Bullpen coach Rick Stelmaszek, who was with the organization for 32 years -- thrown out.  And bench coach Scott Ullger and hitting coach Joe Vavra have been "reassigned" (actually demoted) to instruction duties, mainly for Spring Training.  I agree with all of this; no, I don't see how this makes the players better, but back-to-back shitty seasons, only three years after Minnesota taxpayers contributed $360 million to a ballpark that the Pohlads said would ensure they would be competitive, wells up in me a bloodlust that needed to be satiated.  Heads had to roll.

Two changes that I do like.  Tom Brunansky probably will be called up from AAA Rochester to be the new hitting coach, and Bruno was my favorite player when I was young.  Also, Terry Ryan is no longer the interim General Manager -- he is the General Manager.  I still believe he has the good judgement to clean up the mess Bill Smith gave him.  The sports analogy is: Bill Smith:Terry Ryan::George W. Bush:Barack Obama.  And it probably will take at least eight years to clear away the dead weight and restock the farm system with blue-chip prospects.

But how do you go about beginning the rebuilding?  Do you trade Denard Span?  Do you trade Justin Morneau?  Who are you going to get to fill out the rotation?  (In my opinion, none of the five pitchers who were supposed to be starters for the Twinks on Opening Day should still be with the club.  Get them all out.)  Without a hard salary cap or the Pohlads opening up their personal accounts, the team will have to do with what it's got.  Which is very little.  Which means that they will be bad for a long, long time.  Fuck it all.

By the way, do you know what Josh Willingham finished third in the AL in RBI?  Get out!

Expenses Without Receipt

OK, let me try something different with this.  It's pointless to jot down all the Expenses Without Receipt if I have already written them down in my day planner, but that's what I've done the past few EWR entries.

The month turned a week ago, but as usual I haven't updated my day planner.  I haven't done that because I haven't reconciled the monthly expense report yet, and I can't do that because I forgot all the non-receipt expenses for the month since I did the last EWR.

So I need to pivot this thing.  If I am going to continue to do this on WAF, I'll have to make it useful for something.  I might have it.  Until I update my day planner, I need a place to write down all the stuff I bought and don't have a record for.  Maybe that's what EWR should be.

Of course, I realize this a week after I should have started putting these down.  I have a little catching up to do.  Might as well start.  And I might as well stop doing this in chronological order.  In fact, I'll try this one in reverse chronological order because I remember the stuff I bought yesterday (and today) better than the ones earlier.  Gotta think about those.

OK, here goes:

• Today, Saturday, October 6, I had a coffee at the local Caribou after dropping off my car.  With tip: $2.
• I then took the bus to the local mall: $1.75.
• Went to the library to print out a parking pass for tomorrow's Vikings game: 10 cents.
• Yesterday, Friday, October 5 ... working backwards ... Last thing I did was go to Caffetto to work on my column.  With tip: $1.75.
• Before that was the University of Minnesota women's hockey game.  I went because this game was the official unveiling of their title banner.  Program, hot dog and souvenir-size Coke is, I think: $10.50.
• At the building where I work is an eatery on the first floor.  A neat place, quiet, catered stuff.  I took them up on their lunch, haddock with potatoes.  Good, but then I think most food is good.  I hope I have the total memorized correctly: $7.27.
• Thursday, October 4 ... I think the only expense I had was eating at the USC game.  Twenty wings for only five bucks.  Hit a wall around Wing 16.  With beer and tip: $10.50.
• Now my memory gets really fuzzy ... before the 4th, the prior day I spent money was Saturday, September 29.  I'm going to say that I went to Caffetto because I published my column then.  With tip: $1.75.
• And then I think I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version).  Coffee and tips: $10.
• Then I went to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place.  Soup, big salad, Coke and tip: $9.50.
• Was Friday, September 28 the day I tried that workplace eatery for the first time?  I think it was.  This time it was breakfast, and I hope I remember the total correctly: $3.77.
• Went to a coffeehouse close to the U.  With tip: $2.25.
• And then I went to the first U. women's hockey game.  Program, hot dog, small Coke.  I think I blew the total, but I'm going to say: $8.50.
• I just noticed that I wrote Expenses Without Receipt for this date.  I went to Caffetto on this date as well.  With tip: $1.75.

I wrote down some stuff on my day planner, so I think I can stop here.

Nearly Lost The Gig

Yesterday I replied to an e-mail wanting to know if I was available for the Vikings game this Sunday.  I thought it wasn't a big deal until I saw that she sent out an all-call e-mail the day before.  The message I replied to was a second and final message.  She went out of her way to see if I could work.  She didn't have to do that, and there was a chance I wouldn't be working this Saturday.  Phew!

Voicemail Gone Forever

Just went through my 41 voicemails for two reasons: 1) I have a work opportunity and I needed to write down the phone number of the person I need to answer to; and 2) I don't want to run into that situation (I don't know if others have to go through this) of needing to re-save voicemails that are really old, and I wanted to do them now that I have some free time instead of needing to get to the new voicemails waiting for me.

The first and most ancient voicemail was from my friend, whom I met while we were ushers and with who I now go to sporting events with.  That was one July 3.  The next one was from the next day -- Mother, on the day I regretted forgetting her wish to call home before I drove home.

That brought back bad memories for me, so I decided to delete it.  But then I thought that this is the second-oldest voicemail I have right now.  Plus, many of the voicemails I have are Father yelling into his cell to call him back, so those I will delete as soon as I hear his voice.  Compared to that, I should keep it so I could hear her dulcet tones.  No worries, I thought; I'll just swing through all my voicemail till I get to the beginning and un-delete it.

No dice.  Once I got back to the beginning, the voicemail was gone.  Maybe they don't have an un-delete feature, or maybe I was going through my messages for a long time (I spent more than 20 minutes going through them two-plus times).  Whatever the case, I regret that now, Mother's message for me is cast to the digital winds, forever.

I have to report to work at 7 in the morning.  That sucks because that definitely rules out staying up late at night.  These days I'm in bed at 2 at the latest.  That's an unthinkable time for me.

And since I usually do my daily blog post then, recently I have been fighting to do them in the late afternoon or early evening before the day ends.  It's been a struggle trying to fit this in while needing to do all the things I usually do during the day.

Also, it doesn't help that this is the time of the year where the modem goes on the fritz.  Been that way for the past two or three days now.  Mother has been harping on me for superfast Internet through cable, and I've usually rebuffed them because it's too expensive.  But even I am getting tired of the unconnections, and now I'll have to look into it, again.

Morningwood!!!

I read in Playboy a long time ago that over a normal night's rest a man experiences about four erections, each lasting about 45 minutes.  That leads me to believe that you get erect not because of dreams or anything but the body uses sleep to repair the body, and blood gets in the way.  Your brain needs fixing, so the body pushes all the blood as far away from it as possible.  Thus, a hard-on.

That's a quasi-scientific prelude to saying that I fell asleep early last night and woke up around 4:30 with what has to be the hardest hard-on I've ever had.  Seriously, y'all, I was 85% asleep but even I was going, "Goddamn!  Is that my dick?"  I'm not saying it's as long as it's ever been -- look, I've got what I've got -- but whatever I had I was pushing it to the hilt.

I was hot in my clothes.  Plus, I didn't think it right to pen in my boner in my pants.  So I freed Willy; I pulled off my pants and underwear and slept (underneath my blanket) bottomless, something I usually don't do because I think it's kind of weird.  But hey, but dick was hard and out!

That's all I wanted to say.

Now It's Mother's Turn To Yell At Me

I still need work at the MRI at the U. to shore up my expenses.  But when I was told I got a session this (Monday) night at 9, I kind of thought, Oh, shit.  Because how am I going to explain to my parents that I'm going to work so late, especially when I have to wake up the next morning?

The only thing I had was to use the same excuse I used when I went back to the party that I eventually did not go back to: I was called in to help at the U.  So I bolt downstairs and tell Mother, who was rooting around her closet, that I had to go.

I am always prepared to see my folks go ballistic whenever I say anything they don't like, because much of what I say they don't like.  But even I wasn't ready for how she reacted.  The only positive I could take away from this was to further parse what fucked-up parts of me come from Mother instead of Father.

First, she asks if I'm getting triple pay for this.  No, I said.  Then she accused me of favoring my "boss" over them: "You talk to your boss like he your father, and then you talk to Father and me like we're another person."  That makes no sense, but I understand what she meant ... and still made no fucking sense.

But then the bitch really lays into me, dragging out a conversation about my car.  "Did you take the car to the dealer yet?"  No, I said -- I've been fucking busy.  "I remind you already.  It winter," she harped, "I worry about you.  I take care of you, you don't take care of yourself."

OK, so that she thinks I value this mythical supervisor over them shows that I get my inferiority complex from Mother.  Doesn't matter if it's true, that's not the issue here.  Her guilt trip reminds me of the times my folks got into arguments with each other and quickly Father turns to me and says, "She crazy."  What I mean by that is, HOW IN THE FUCK DOES GOING TO WORK FOR A COUPLE HOURS MEAN I CAN'T GODDAMN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF?!?!?!  HOW THE FUCK DO YOU GET FROM ONE THOUGHT TO THE OTHER?!?!?!  So maybe he's right and she's crazy, therefore they're both crazy.

"This is second time I tell you to take the car to the dealer, now this is the third time," Mother said, and ah!  This is the Mother I know and have hated all my life.  The one with the threats and the ultimatums, the one who throws around warnings in spite of her not knowing that Father is thinking of putting the Mercedes in operation and refusing to believe the car is running condition.  Because you know what?  Since she fucking harped on the whole car, I'm going to stick my neck out and say that the car is running fine, and that it'll definitely last another winter.  The window might be a problem, but hey, if it's just a regulator, I'll pay the $300 for it.  Fuck you, Mother, I will not take this beautiful car that stores all my good memories of childhood to the crusher, at least not yet.  I'll just tell you I did to fucking get you off my back, OK?

And now I will go the fuck to sleep.

Doing Away With My Car, And It Might Feel Good

Is it easier to let things go if you come to resent it?  If so, is that a feeling that most people have?

While helping out Father with the yardwork chores he wanted to do today he came across my car a few times.  Certainly he saw the rear passenger-side window taped up and figured something happened to it.  But he didn't say anything.  And yet might have been referring to that when, in passing, he said that maybe he'll break out the Mercedes-Benz SUV for the winter and help sell the car (or sell the car on his own).

Hearing that, I was surprisingly lightened, as if a weight came off my shoulders.  For one thing Father wasn't echoing Mother's suggestion that I should trade in the Lexus and buy a Kia, thank God.  But it's knowing that someone would help me with a back-up plan, that not only would I be able to maintain my freedom but also clean up the mess that comes with this huge change, that put a smile on the inside me.

This means that I can see the end of my car.  And yet I feel strangely detached from it.  One of the things I keep replaying in my head is how much I have spent on it just in the past year:

• $400 for new tires;
• $70 for a new battery;
• $1200 for a tuneup and new fuel injector;
• $870 to replace the timing belt;
• $230 for a coolant and power steering flush;
• $1,000 to seal up all the engine leaks

This, I think, still is way less than what I would pay for a new or even used car; that's why I hated Mother's suggestion that I get something else.  But how about using a car that's seven years younger, and, more importantly, one that's doing nothing but collecting dust behind the house?  It makes sense, and not only would I not have to deal with huge expenses (at least not now) but I would also be spared of, what my friend said when I asked him to use his dad's car instead of mine to go all the way to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) the "psychic pain" of waiting for the next shoe to drop when it comes to my car.

And that's what is has come down to.  This has been my car since I was 18, and since this came to me new, no one else has ever driven it as regularly as I have.  But the great memories I have of it have been replaced by oil leaks, weird noises, worries over the transmission, constant checking of fluid levels, and now white trash repairs to keep up windows.  It can make a lovely relationship turn bitterly sour.

I'm at that point now.  And although a part of me is sad, a part of me is relieved that I can leave this piece of shit, this four-wheeled love of my life, behind now.  What the hell is wrong with me??