And I thought 2012 was turbulent. This year was virtually bookended by loss. It began when my uncle died a few days after the New Year, and it ends with The Store, which was sold back in November, I think. Or, it was sold officially Boxing day, according to the e-mails on My Father's account, which he has asked me to check up on while they're away.
But after thinking about it, I can't think of any other big changes that happened in my life this year. Everything else has stayed the same. Most notably are my occupation(s). I'm working as a flu biller for the second year in a row. I have done test scoring for three years now. Don't forget to sprinkle in day playing for Vikings and Twins games. And even though none of them are regular jobs, I still on occasion work as a guinea pig for experiments at the U., especially at the MRI place (which, by the way, I haven't done in several months -- need to get back on that). Cobbling together those seasonal-type positions, I create an income for myself, and a life ... oh, who am I kidding, I can't live on that, not in today's America.
But you know what? I'm happy, very happy, doing all of those things. Otherwise I would have stopped doing them. They are steady, and therefore I have been steady. They say if you're not happy working somewhere, work somewhere else. Even though they're not full-time, I go back, every year. And I will continue to do so ... until something better or better-paying comes along.
My life has been stable in pretty much all the other facets of my life, too. Still don't have a "real" job. Still not going back to school. Still live at home with my parents. Still a virgin -- and still seeking to lose my virginity, on my own terms. Still go to strip clubs. Still get handjobs and the occasional blowjob from strippers. Still have my health. Lost my uncle, but I still have my immediate family -- Mother, Father, brother and sister. In fact there will be an addition to the clan some time in May.
So despite the loss of my uncle and The Store, 2013 has been a year of stability -- and not stagnation, at least I don't think. I fear change, have always had a sizable, even existential, unease over it. And maybe it wasn't until now that I realize that I haven't just wished for things to stay the same, as I have whined about from time to time on Wailing And Failing, but I have actually succeeded in keeping the things I want to stay the same. I think my family in particular thinks I'm weird, or even believes there's something wrong with me. And maybe that's the case. But I have to live my life the way I want it. And unlike those extroverts, I hold on because I don't want to lose everything that's been good in my life. YOLO for introverts, you might say.
So here's to a stable 2014, one without violent change. One without death or loss, too, at least for one year, though hopefully every year. Unless, of course, something better comes along, in which case fuck yeah, I will change!
Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
(Programming note: This is the final Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey of the year. As per my convention, when we begin a new year, I re-rack the survey so that it's published the day of the week January 7 is. I think it's important to not do the WMNSS the same day every week ad infinitum. That means that the first survey of the year needs to encompass any remaining days from the previous year, so note that the next WMNSS officially has a screening week from December 31 to January 7.)
#-1 (tie): Gopher men's basketball and Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -1 and -2, respectively). One last call before heading out ... into the conference schedule, where both teams will likely face some very rude wake-up calls. Both baller programs finished the non-con portion of their schedule by beating the shit out of overmatched schools (Texas A&M-Corpus Christi and Oakland, respectively) over the weekend in Williams Arena. Ah, behold the "bodybag" game, throwing tens of thousands of tomato-can opponents to come on the road and get their asses handed to them. The men's team won by 21, the women by 36. This does little to help either team's RPI, but hey, at least they won, which is the whole fucking point. By intention and score, I could not decide which team is better, so for this final WMNSS of 2013, I'm just going to put both of them at the top.
While both teams begin B1G play, they don't have to leave the friendly confines of home yet. The men begin with national runner-up Michigan Thursday, then face Purdue Sunday. The women have one game next week, vs. Michigan St. Saturday.
#-2: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). They had a relatively easy week this week, and so they became the good team all of us thought they'd be. They trashed Washington by 22 (in a game where budding really good player Bradley Beal was taken out on a stretcher), then clubbed maybe the most anonymous franchise in the NBA, the Milwaukee Bucks, in Milwaukee the next night. (Sweet court, by the way; I don't know why such a court in college hoops would bug the shit out of me but this one doesn't. Maybe it's because it is the anonymous Bucks, and I support this organization getting any buzz that gets them attention.) Unfortunately they dropped a two-point decision at home to Dallas Monday night, spoiling what would have been a perfect screening week.
Saw Bill Simmons on NBA Countdown say that he hoped Kevin Love gets traded out of Minnesota. Hey, fuck you, Simmons. I think we've suffered enough. I'm torn on Simmons. He has a great Horatio Alger-type story: Washed-out sportswriter, became a bartender but never lost his love of writing sports. On his downtown he started this e-mailing list of his articles. They are perceived to be really good and a refreshing take on sportswriting, and so his friends pass it along to his friends. ESPN thinks they've found The Next Big Thing, so they hire him. Simmons continues to bite the hand that feeds him, but because he's part of "The New Media," they think that's part of his schtick. So not only do they tolerate it, they encourage it. They even give him his own micro-website through ESPN.com and, eventually, get him on TV doing their NBA pregame show. Gotta love it.
But you can also be very envious of him, too. I can see why he rubs some the wrong way. He comes off as a know-it-all who likes to turn the volume on his snark up to 11. Plus, even though he has an Everyman mien to him, he still doesn't have the weight of authority that the other analysts do. He's basically Dennis Miller who studies a lot more. Anyway, he said on his show Christmas afternoon that unless Ricky Rubio develops a jumpshot, the Woofie Dogs aren't going anywhere. And that's what's infuriating about him: You hate Simmons, but he's right. Seems as if Rubio shot more this screening week in order to develop his scoring touch.
They host New Orleans New Year's Night and The Bastard Seattle SuperSonics Saturday, then go to Philadelphia Monday.
#-3: Wild (Last Week: -4). OK, we've got to put this fucking team on DEFCON 1 because this bitch is spinning out of control, fast. Make it five losses in a row after defeats at Winnipeg and home to the New York Islanders. Unlike their previous three setbacks offense wasn't the problem; they scored four goals in both games. Unfortunately the Jets scored six and the Islanders five.
The Islanders' loss may be the worst loss of the season, and maybe of the past several seasons:
Mike Russo of the Star Tribune of Minneapolis said tonight's New Year's Eve date at Xcel against St. Louis is a must-win. Keep dreaming, Mr. Russo; you shouldn't be throwing down such a gauntlet on a shitty team playing even shittier facing a very good Blues club. They're going to lose that one, for sure. They then have home dates with Buffalo and Washington (they're just bunching up the inter-conference games, aren't they?) before playing in Los Angeles Tuesday. And they have to play those four games without the most professional (only professional?) player on the squad, Zach Parise, who's out for the time being because the foot that he has been dragging behind him in fact is broken. There's a chance Yeo gets shitcanned by this time next week.
#-Infinity (tie): Vikings and Gopher football (Last Week: -5 and Re-Entry!, respectively). And speaking of shitcanned ... to no one's surprise, Leslie Frazier was relieved of his duties as Head Coach of the ViQueens Monday, a day after winning a 14-13 decision in the swansong of the Metrodome against a Detroit Lions team that also had nothing to play for and therefore played just as lackluster as the Vikes (and who also fired their Head Coach, Jim Schwartz, after having the lead in the NFC Central and losing, like, five of their last seven games). Mr. Frazier has no record to stand on: He sandwiched last year's playoff season with years where the Vikings lost 13 and ten games. And as I saw in one tweet, he appears to have no aptitude in halftime adjustments.
That being said, I repeat my assertion that firing head coaches won't immediately make a team better. It's obvious, but they simply did not have the personnel to win games, Quarterback and defense being the most glaring weaknesses on this organization. The players good enough to stay -- there could be a massive overhaul over the offseason -- all went to bat for Frazier; after learning about his firing, Adrian Peterson, who was vocal about talking to the bigwigs about keeping Frazier around, didn't comment after learning his argument didn't work. And while that means little to fanbase that simply wants this team to win a Super Bowl before we all die, it should be said that Leslie Frazier, by all I've heard, is a nice man of great integrity. Regardless of how well he or she does or doesn't do on the job, it's always a shame when someone as moral as him loses his job.
The clusterfuck of the musical chairs at the QB spot deepened even though, with the season over and the writing clearly on the wall, the main parties started opening up ... and they didn't tell the same story. Frazier seemed to say that the decision to stick with Christian Ponder for so long was a collaborative decision, but in the press conference held Monday afternoon to formerly announce the firing, General Manager Rick Spielman said that while he and ownership had to be notified, it was Frazier that had the final say. Will the players that went to bat for Frazier appreciate what seemed to be Spielman trying to throw Frazier under the bus? I know at least one ex-Viking who doesn't:
But Spielman didn't hire Frazier; Frazier was hired as HC under the team's "Triangle of Authority" days, so now he has at least 100% accountability about who's getting hired next. (Paul Charchian, guest-hosting for The Common Man last week, said that Ken Whisenhunt, current Offensive Coordinator of the playoff-bound San Diego Chargers and former Head Coach of the Arizona Cardinals, a team he took to the Super Bowl and was unjustly fired by the Bidwills after last year, would be the perfect replacement. The Vikings have never hired someone who has been a Head Coach elsewhere in the NFL; knowing that fact makes me like Whisenhunt more and more.) And while I think Spielman can be cold enough to not know the pulse of the team (quick story: While working a game I stepped aside for the Vikings offensive starters to come down the tunnel from their locker room; Spielman was walking up the tunnel behind me; I stepped aside for him, and while Spielman and the players walked past each other, they didn't even acknowledge each other ... might not be anything, might be everything), he has drafted well with Blair Walsh, Matt Kalil, hopefully Xavier Rhodes and Cordarrelle Patterson, the rookie who scored both Minnesota touchdowns Sunday. He made a horrible mistake in drafting Ponder with the 12th pick in that year's draft, but Spielman is not batting .000. So while I don't approve of the firing, I can understand the organizational chart, where the GM has the replace the Head Coach. Let's just hope he doesn't fuck this up, otherwise his ass would be next -- and deservedly so.
---
It's unfair. When a college football team wins one of these bowl exhibitions, I go, "Who cares? It's only a bowl exhibition." But when that team loses that game, I go, "What the fuck? You can't even win a fucking bowl exhibition?? What the hell is wrong with you???"
I was reflecting on that hypocrisy when hearing (well after the fact; I have better things to do than listen to a bowl game) that the Goof gridiron team got "upset" by Syracuse in the Texas Bowl Friday, 21-17. I didn't want to write about this team and this game. But I heard that the Orange may have been the worst team to make it to the postseason. Losing to them, then, has to be noted as a horrible way to end what was supposed to be a breakthrough season. Apparently Minnesota gave up, like, a 70-yard special teams touchdown or something? And the game was decided when Gopher Quarterback Mitch Leidner threw up a late-game Hail Mary that came up short.
Did you know that Head Coach Jerry Kill came down from the booth to coach from the sideline for the first time since late September? He says it was supposed to be motivational; I think it's a curse. Remember that he has been cooped up there for all the squad's conference wins. I say he should've stayed up there.
#-1 (tie): Gopher men's basketball and Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -1 and -2, respectively). One last call before heading out ... into the conference schedule, where both teams will likely face some very rude wake-up calls. Both baller programs finished the non-con portion of their schedule by beating the shit out of overmatched schools (Texas A&M-Corpus Christi and Oakland, respectively) over the weekend in Williams Arena. Ah, behold the "bodybag" game, throwing tens of thousands of tomato-can opponents to come on the road and get their asses handed to them. The men's team won by 21, the women by 36. This does little to help either team's RPI, but hey, at least they won, which is the whole fucking point. By intention and score, I could not decide which team is better, so for this final WMNSS of 2013, I'm just going to put both of them at the top.
While both teams begin B1G play, they don't have to leave the friendly confines of home yet. The men begin with national runner-up Michigan Thursday, then face Purdue Sunday. The women have one game next week, vs. Michigan St. Saturday.
#-2: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). They had a relatively easy week this week, and so they became the good team all of us thought they'd be. They trashed Washington by 22 (in a game where budding really good player Bradley Beal was taken out on a stretcher), then clubbed maybe the most anonymous franchise in the NBA, the Milwaukee Bucks, in Milwaukee the next night. (Sweet court, by the way; I don't know why such a court in college hoops would bug the shit out of me but this one doesn't. Maybe it's because it is the anonymous Bucks, and I support this organization getting any buzz that gets them attention.) Unfortunately they dropped a two-point decision at home to Dallas Monday night, spoiling what would have been a perfect screening week.
Saw Bill Simmons on NBA Countdown say that he hoped Kevin Love gets traded out of Minnesota. Hey, fuck you, Simmons. I think we've suffered enough. I'm torn on Simmons. He has a great Horatio Alger-type story: Washed-out sportswriter, became a bartender but never lost his love of writing sports. On his downtown he started this e-mailing list of his articles. They are perceived to be really good and a refreshing take on sportswriting, and so his friends pass it along to his friends. ESPN thinks they've found The Next Big Thing, so they hire him. Simmons continues to bite the hand that feeds him, but because he's part of "The New Media," they think that's part of his schtick. So not only do they tolerate it, they encourage it. They even give him his own micro-website through ESPN.com and, eventually, get him on TV doing their NBA pregame show. Gotta love it.
But you can also be very envious of him, too. I can see why he rubs some the wrong way. He comes off as a know-it-all who likes to turn the volume on his snark up to 11. Plus, even though he has an Everyman mien to him, he still doesn't have the weight of authority that the other analysts do. He's basically Dennis Miller who studies a lot more. Anyway, he said on his show Christmas afternoon that unless Ricky Rubio develops a jumpshot, the Woofie Dogs aren't going anywhere. And that's what's infuriating about him: You hate Simmons, but he's right. Seems as if Rubio shot more this screening week in order to develop his scoring touch.
They host New Orleans New Year's Night and The Bastard Seattle SuperSonics Saturday, then go to Philadelphia Monday.
#-3: Wild (Last Week: -4). OK, we've got to put this fucking team on DEFCON 1 because this bitch is spinning out of control, fast. Make it five losses in a row after defeats at Winnipeg and home to the New York Islanders. Unlike their previous three setbacks offense wasn't the problem; they scored four goals in both games. Unfortunately the Jets scored six and the Islanders five.
The Islanders' loss may be the worst loss of the season, and maybe of the past several seasons:
- They went up 3-0, then choked up the entire lead;
- They actually got behind 4-3 before tying the score;
- The Mild then gave up the final goal (courtesy of Kyle Okposo, formerly of the Minnesota Golden Gophers) so quickly after the game-tier that the public address announcer hadn't even announced the goal scorer and assists yet.
- They thus lost to a team not even close to the Eastern Conference playoff race right now;
- By the way, the Isles played the night before;
- Oh, and their Goalie was their back-up.
Mike Russo of the Star Tribune of Minneapolis said tonight's New Year's Eve date at Xcel against St. Louis is a must-win. Keep dreaming, Mr. Russo; you shouldn't be throwing down such a gauntlet on a shitty team playing even shittier facing a very good Blues club. They're going to lose that one, for sure. They then have home dates with Buffalo and Washington (they're just bunching up the inter-conference games, aren't they?) before playing in Los Angeles Tuesday. And they have to play those four games without the most professional (only professional?) player on the squad, Zach Parise, who's out for the time being because the foot that he has been dragging behind him in fact is broken. There's a chance Yeo gets shitcanned by this time next week.
#-Infinity (tie): Vikings and Gopher football (Last Week: -5 and Re-Entry!, respectively). And speaking of shitcanned ... to no one's surprise, Leslie Frazier was relieved of his duties as Head Coach of the ViQueens Monday, a day after winning a 14-13 decision in the swansong of the Metrodome against a Detroit Lions team that also had nothing to play for and therefore played just as lackluster as the Vikes (and who also fired their Head Coach, Jim Schwartz, after having the lead in the NFC Central and losing, like, five of their last seven games). Mr. Frazier has no record to stand on: He sandwiched last year's playoff season with years where the Vikings lost 13 and ten games. And as I saw in one tweet, he appears to have no aptitude in halftime adjustments.
That being said, I repeat my assertion that firing head coaches won't immediately make a team better. It's obvious, but they simply did not have the personnel to win games, Quarterback and defense being the most glaring weaknesses on this organization. The players good enough to stay -- there could be a massive overhaul over the offseason -- all went to bat for Frazier; after learning about his firing, Adrian Peterson, who was vocal about talking to the bigwigs about keeping Frazier around, didn't comment after learning his argument didn't work. And while that means little to fanbase that simply wants this team to win a Super Bowl before we all die, it should be said that Leslie Frazier, by all I've heard, is a nice man of great integrity. Regardless of how well he or she does or doesn't do on the job, it's always a shame when someone as moral as him loses his job.
The clusterfuck of the musical chairs at the QB spot deepened even though, with the season over and the writing clearly on the wall, the main parties started opening up ... and they didn't tell the same story. Frazier seemed to say that the decision to stick with Christian Ponder for so long was a collaborative decision, but in the press conference held Monday afternoon to formerly announce the firing, General Manager Rick Spielman said that while he and ownership had to be notified, it was Frazier that had the final say. Will the players that went to bat for Frazier appreciate what seemed to be Spielman trying to throw Frazier under the bus? I know at least one ex-Viking who doesn't:
So sorry to see Leslie Frazier go. Great coach, even better man of integrity. Too bad they fired the wrong guy up there.
— Ryan Longwell (@4thandLongwell) December 30, 2013
But Spielman didn't hire Frazier; Frazier was hired as HC under the team's "Triangle of Authority" days, so now he has at least 100% accountability about who's getting hired next. (Paul Charchian, guest-hosting for The Common Man last week, said that Ken Whisenhunt, current Offensive Coordinator of the playoff-bound San Diego Chargers and former Head Coach of the Arizona Cardinals, a team he took to the Super Bowl and was unjustly fired by the Bidwills after last year, would be the perfect replacement. The Vikings have never hired someone who has been a Head Coach elsewhere in the NFL; knowing that fact makes me like Whisenhunt more and more.) And while I think Spielman can be cold enough to not know the pulse of the team (quick story: While working a game I stepped aside for the Vikings offensive starters to come down the tunnel from their locker room; Spielman was walking up the tunnel behind me; I stepped aside for him, and while Spielman and the players walked past each other, they didn't even acknowledge each other ... might not be anything, might be everything), he has drafted well with Blair Walsh, Matt Kalil, hopefully Xavier Rhodes and Cordarrelle Patterson, the rookie who scored both Minnesota touchdowns Sunday. He made a horrible mistake in drafting Ponder with the 12th pick in that year's draft, but Spielman is not batting .000. So while I don't approve of the firing, I can understand the organizational chart, where the GM has the replace the Head Coach. Let's just hope he doesn't fuck this up, otherwise his ass would be next -- and deservedly so.
---
It's unfair. When a college football team wins one of these bowl exhibitions, I go, "Who cares? It's only a bowl exhibition." But when that team loses that game, I go, "What the fuck? You can't even win a fucking bowl exhibition?? What the hell is wrong with you???"
I was reflecting on that hypocrisy when hearing (well after the fact; I have better things to do than listen to a bowl game) that the Goof gridiron team got "upset" by Syracuse in the Texas Bowl Friday, 21-17. I didn't want to write about this team and this game. But I heard that the Orange may have been the worst team to make it to the postseason. Losing to them, then, has to be noted as a horrible way to end what was supposed to be a breakthrough season. Apparently Minnesota gave up, like, a 70-yard special teams touchdown or something? And the game was decided when Gopher Quarterback Mitch Leidner threw up a late-game Hail Mary that came up short.
Did you know that Head Coach Jerry Kill came down from the booth to coach from the sideline for the first time since late September? He says it was supposed to be motivational; I think it's a curse. Remember that he has been cooped up there for all the squad's conference wins. I say he should've stayed up there.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Noises
For the past couple of weeks, once in a while I would hear a loud boom coming from somewhere down in the basement. First time I was startled by it was when my ATF ***e* came over to give me a handjob; once we got done and got dressed we heard a loud "BOOM!" as if someone had been eavesdropping on us. I think that in that case it came from my/upstairs bathroom. There is a shelf in the closet that isn't resting on the feet pegged to the sides quite right. Plus there's a lot of stuff on it, so I think that shelf got weighed down and tipped over.
But there is this other sound that did not come from upstairs. I've been kind of shocked whenever I hear it. It sounds as if someone's trying to get in, which makes me reluctant to go downstairs to find out what that noise is. But I eventually do ... but by then it's too late to find out what's going on. The last time this happened was this evening, which was when I was using the dryer. Therefore I think it could have something to do with that. Also, the wind is howling outside, and actually it has been howling all winter. That gusting may be lifting one of the boards Father stored underneath the deck, and once the wind dies down, that board slams against one of the basement windows or the side of the house.
Other theories include something in the basement or an animal. Either of those scenarios is something I would rather not investigate to the point of ignoring altogether in the hopes it'll just go away. But if I die and I stop updating Wailing And Failing, you read my fears here first.
But there is this other sound that did not come from upstairs. I've been kind of shocked whenever I hear it. It sounds as if someone's trying to get in, which makes me reluctant to go downstairs to find out what that noise is. But I eventually do ... but by then it's too late to find out what's going on. The last time this happened was this evening, which was when I was using the dryer. Therefore I think it could have something to do with that. Also, the wind is howling outside, and actually it has been howling all winter. That gusting may be lifting one of the boards Father stored underneath the deck, and once the wind dies down, that board slams against one of the basement windows or the side of the house.
Other theories include something in the basement or an animal. Either of those scenarios is something I would rather not investigate to the point of ignoring altogether in the hopes it'll just go away. But if I die and I stop updating Wailing And Failing, you read my fears here first.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Lost Receipts
I need to vent here ... I'm going through putting down my friends' numbers, then I realize that I need to write down the quarter donations I gave to the Salvation Army, then I realize that one of those days was last Sunday, when I went out to grab groceries and Arby's. I know there had to be receipts for them, at least for the groceries, but I didn't remember writing them down when I went through them at the Mall of America Saturday night. And sure enough, I had nothing written down in my day planner for that date, when I was sure I spent money.
And I've been searching all through the goddamn house looking for those receipts and I can't find them. They should be in my hip pocket, where I put all my receipts, but they're not there. Fuck!
Since there may have been two receipts (for both the grocery store and Arby's), there's a chance I put both of them in a different spot, such as a grocery bag. Otherwise I have no fucking idea where to look, and so I have to make up an amount to put down in my day planner, and I know it's going to be inaccurate.
ETA: I remember that I bought creamer earlier in the month -- same chain, different store -- and I don't have the receipt for that, too. Does this grocery chain give out receipts? Of course they do; they must. So where in the fuck is that goddamn receipt?!?!?!
And I've been searching all through the goddamn house looking for those receipts and I can't find them. They should be in my hip pocket, where I put all my receipts, but they're not there. Fuck!
Since there may have been two receipts (for both the grocery store and Arby's), there's a chance I put both of them in a different spot, such as a grocery bag. Otherwise I have no fucking idea where to look, and so I have to make up an amount to put down in my day planner, and I know it's going to be inaccurate.
WHERE THE HELL DID I PUT THOSE GODDAMN RECEIPTS?!?!?!
ETA: I remember that I bought creamer earlier in the month -- same chain, different store -- and I don't have the receipt for that, too. Does this grocery chain give out receipts? Of course they do; they must. So where in the fuck is that goddamn receipt?!?!?!
NFL Anti-Picks, Week 17
Record, Week 16: 2-3
Overall Record: 43-56-1
Total Outlay, Week 16: $400.00
Total Winnings, Week 16: $286.35
Loss, Week 16: $113.65
Overall Loss: $911.00
My second consecutive setback, and I virtually am back where I was a few weeks ago: Four digits in the hole.
Now I understand the psychic, even existential pain of being a Detroit Lions fan. You have a home game against a New York Giants team that laid an egg at home, getting shut out by Seattle. Granted, there is some motivation to play a lot better, but they have been eliminated from the playoffs a long time ago, while the snakebitten Lions need this to stay alive in the fight for the National Football Conference Central Division.
So what happens? First, they are unable to shake the Giants. Then, with ball very late in regulation of a tie game, the Lions and Head Coach Jim Schwartz decide to run the ball and run the clock out. Finally, the Lions fail to score, and the G-Men kick a long field goal to eliminate the Lions, at home, in overtime, 23-20.
The inability to shake the inferior team reminds me of the time the Vikings lost to the Arizona Cardinals ten years ago -- remember, that was the game they were supposed to win but didn't, which meant that the Green Bay Packers won the NFC North and the ViQueens stayed home. The decision to shit themselves late in regulation instead of trying to drive down the field to win reminds me of -- gulp -- the Vikes' loss to the Atlanta Falcons in the 1998/9 NFC Championship Game. Both bad memories ... and the Lions experienced both types of chokes in one single game. That's harsh. So maybe Vikings fans don't have it all that bad.
The Lions wager ruined my parlay, one of the big reasons I'm under for last week. I also went Over on the Raiders-Chargers game, one in which they didn't come within ten points of the total of 51. I did hit on Carolina -3 1/2 ... barely. I would not have won that Best Bet if Cam Newton didn't drive all the way down the field and make that touchdown to win the game for the Panthers. That game was a three-point deficit for Carolina, and it turned into a 17-13 victory -- thus covering the spread by half a point. Thank God.
---
I feel I have some reads. It's the last regular season week of the year, and there are games where motivations are quite clear. Saying that, when you come into a Week 17, there is always at least one team that has a chance to help its case to make the playoffs (usually at home) and don't win. I really want to parlay several choices, so I have to avoid that one fuck-up. With that being said:
1) Cleveland-Pittsburgh Under 44.5 (I think the Steelers are going to win, but the spread says 9 1/2. The Browns best play was in the middle of the season, but I just have this oogy feeling about it, and that oogy feeling doesn't cover a 9 1/2-point spread. Now, I'm a little more sure that Cleveland can't score 21 points. Eh, I'll Best Bet this) $100)
2) Chicago +3 (I keep thinking these two words -- home dogs. I do not know why the Bears aren't getting more backing. Yes, it seems as if Chicago chokes chances like these away, but Jay Cutler had his week of shaking off rust in last week's drubbing at Philadelphia [which, by the way, did not matter with regard to their playoff chances]. Meanwhile, this line moved Green Bay's way because Aaron Rodgers is back, but none of them are taking into account that he probably will be rusty. I don't think Rodgers will have a good game. And I'm not sure if Eddie Lacy's good enough to play and help Rodgers re-acclimate slowly back into the game. What I do trust is the Bears' passing game, which should have a field day against a Packers' pass defense which isn't great. Double Best Bet this ...) $150
3) Chicago M/L +132 (... then play them to win Straight-Up) $50
4) Dallas +7 (Same thing with the Cowboys. Both Dallas and Chicago host win-and-in situations in the final game of the regular season, and the oddsmakers believe both will lose. With the chance to reach the postseason, why aren't they favored? In Dallas's case it's the injury that took out Tony Romo. I think that's the best thing that could happen to them. Why? That forces Romo's replacement, Kyle Orton [which, by the way, is considered to be the best backup Quarterback in the National Football League] to hand off the ball to DeMarco Murray ... who will run that ball into a horrible Eagles running defense. They should have given Murray the ball a hell of a lot more than they have; if they did, they'd have won a couple more games and would not be in the position they're in now. But without Romo and the perception that it's his arm that will score Dallas points, they attack Philadelphia's weakness. I know that Dallas's D is terrible, and that the Eagles can score a lot of points. But they beat Philly earlier in the year by containing LeSean McCoy. I think a similar gameplan will also stymie the Eagles. Hey, Dallas is in their third straight Week 17 win-or-go-home scenario, and they lost the first two. Can they suffer a third defeat like this ... and the first one at home? I don't think that'll happen. Double Best Bet this ...) $150)
5) Dallas M/L +231 (... then bet on them SU) $50
6) Have to go whole hog ... parlay 2) with 4), for $100.
7) Then I will rope in both Moneylines: 3) with 5), for $50.
Overall Record: 43-56-1
Total Outlay, Week 16: $400.00
Total Winnings, Week 16: $286.35
Loss, Week 16: $113.65
Overall Loss: $911.00
My second consecutive setback, and I virtually am back where I was a few weeks ago: Four digits in the hole.
Now I understand the psychic, even existential pain of being a Detroit Lions fan. You have a home game against a New York Giants team that laid an egg at home, getting shut out by Seattle. Granted, there is some motivation to play a lot better, but they have been eliminated from the playoffs a long time ago, while the snakebitten Lions need this to stay alive in the fight for the National Football Conference Central Division.
So what happens? First, they are unable to shake the Giants. Then, with ball very late in regulation of a tie game, the Lions and Head Coach Jim Schwartz decide to run the ball and run the clock out. Finally, the Lions fail to score, and the G-Men kick a long field goal to eliminate the Lions, at home, in overtime, 23-20.
The inability to shake the inferior team reminds me of the time the Vikings lost to the Arizona Cardinals ten years ago -- remember, that was the game they were supposed to win but didn't, which meant that the Green Bay Packers won the NFC North and the ViQueens stayed home. The decision to shit themselves late in regulation instead of trying to drive down the field to win reminds me of -- gulp -- the Vikes' loss to the Atlanta Falcons in the 1998/9 NFC Championship Game. Both bad memories ... and the Lions experienced both types of chokes in one single game. That's harsh. So maybe Vikings fans don't have it all that bad.
The Lions wager ruined my parlay, one of the big reasons I'm under for last week. I also went Over on the Raiders-Chargers game, one in which they didn't come within ten points of the total of 51. I did hit on Carolina -3 1/2 ... barely. I would not have won that Best Bet if Cam Newton didn't drive all the way down the field and make that touchdown to win the game for the Panthers. That game was a three-point deficit for Carolina, and it turned into a 17-13 victory -- thus covering the spread by half a point. Thank God.
---
I feel I have some reads. It's the last regular season week of the year, and there are games where motivations are quite clear. Saying that, when you come into a Week 17, there is always at least one team that has a chance to help its case to make the playoffs (usually at home) and don't win. I really want to parlay several choices, so I have to avoid that one fuck-up. With that being said:
1) Cleveland-Pittsburgh Under 44.5 (I think the Steelers are going to win, but the spread says 9 1/2. The Browns best play was in the middle of the season, but I just have this oogy feeling about it, and that oogy feeling doesn't cover a 9 1/2-point spread. Now, I'm a little more sure that Cleveland can't score 21 points. Eh, I'll Best Bet this) $100)
2) Chicago +3 (I keep thinking these two words -- home dogs. I do not know why the Bears aren't getting more backing. Yes, it seems as if Chicago chokes chances like these away, but Jay Cutler had his week of shaking off rust in last week's drubbing at Philadelphia [which, by the way, did not matter with regard to their playoff chances]. Meanwhile, this line moved Green Bay's way because Aaron Rodgers is back, but none of them are taking into account that he probably will be rusty. I don't think Rodgers will have a good game. And I'm not sure if Eddie Lacy's good enough to play and help Rodgers re-acclimate slowly back into the game. What I do trust is the Bears' passing game, which should have a field day against a Packers' pass defense which isn't great. Double Best Bet this ...) $150
3) Chicago M/L +132 (... then play them to win Straight-Up) $50
4) Dallas +7 (Same thing with the Cowboys. Both Dallas and Chicago host win-and-in situations in the final game of the regular season, and the oddsmakers believe both will lose. With the chance to reach the postseason, why aren't they favored? In Dallas's case it's the injury that took out Tony Romo. I think that's the best thing that could happen to them. Why? That forces Romo's replacement, Kyle Orton [which, by the way, is considered to be the best backup Quarterback in the National Football League] to hand off the ball to DeMarco Murray ... who will run that ball into a horrible Eagles running defense. They should have given Murray the ball a hell of a lot more than they have; if they did, they'd have won a couple more games and would not be in the position they're in now. But without Romo and the perception that it's his arm that will score Dallas points, they attack Philadelphia's weakness. I know that Dallas's D is terrible, and that the Eagles can score a lot of points. But they beat Philly earlier in the year by containing LeSean McCoy. I think a similar gameplan will also stymie the Eagles. Hey, Dallas is in their third straight Week 17 win-or-go-home scenario, and they lost the first two. Can they suffer a third defeat like this ... and the first one at home? I don't think that'll happen. Double Best Bet this ...) $150)
5) Dallas M/L +231 (... then bet on them SU) $50
6) Have to go whole hog ... parlay 2) with 4), for $100.
7) Then I will rope in both Moneylines: 3) with 5), for $50.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Rejected For Vikings Game
Well, I guess I shouldn't say I got rejected; I just never got called to work stats or run for them tomorrow, the final game at the Metrodome as we know it. If I recall correctly, I worked all eight possible regular season games last year, so the last time I did not work a Vikings home game was two years ago, the final game of the 2011 regular season, against the Detroit Lions, the same opponent the Vikes will face to close out the Dome and this putrid, pathetic year. Since I didn't work then, I instead took my Macy's supervisor up on her offer to end the New Year's holiday weekend, as well as my tenure working the holiday season there as overnight restocker, helping them out during the day, which happened to be New Year's Day. I was able to listen to the radio and the game, which they lost. I blogged about this, about the pissy worker at my department and the half-ass way I left the dress shirts.
Am I upset? No, not really. Looking at the coverage maps I'm sure it's the seventh and lowest crew doing the game. They're so low they're not a dedicated team; there are never seven games the network covers each week, and I doubt they've covered seven games more than half the season, so this is probably a skeleton crew filled with freelancers that are called whenever they have an overload of games in a week. That includes the person on the crew that would hire me. He or she probably doesn't do this full-time, therefore he or she either doesn't know who I am or thinks that because he or she is part of the 7th and last crew, compiling statistics or running stuff up to the broadcast booth for a game between two shitty teams who aren't going to the playoffs is useless.
Could I have called up and asked/begged for a position? I could have. But the only numbers I have for the network are people who are working other, better games around the country. I don't want to bother them, and I don't want to look like I'm nagging and/or cajoling for a spot. I'd rather give off the image that I'm taking things easy -- hey, if you need me to work, I'm available, and if not, that's OK, too.
Now, this one guy ... this guy, who was able to finagle his friends into working with the game with him, and with whom I found divvying up all the stat categories the last time without my help, this guy might have begged his way into work. If so ... well, am I just going to let him do that, or have I been pushed out?
Am I upset? No, not really. Looking at the coverage maps I'm sure it's the seventh and lowest crew doing the game. They're so low they're not a dedicated team; there are never seven games the network covers each week, and I doubt they've covered seven games more than half the season, so this is probably a skeleton crew filled with freelancers that are called whenever they have an overload of games in a week. That includes the person on the crew that would hire me. He or she probably doesn't do this full-time, therefore he or she either doesn't know who I am or thinks that because he or she is part of the 7th and last crew, compiling statistics or running stuff up to the broadcast booth for a game between two shitty teams who aren't going to the playoffs is useless.
Could I have called up and asked/begged for a position? I could have. But the only numbers I have for the network are people who are working other, better games around the country. I don't want to bother them, and I don't want to look like I'm nagging and/or cajoling for a spot. I'd rather give off the image that I'm taking things easy -- hey, if you need me to work, I'm available, and if not, that's OK, too.
Now, this one guy ... this guy, who was able to finagle his friends into working with the game with him, and with whom I found divvying up all the stat categories the last time without my help, this guy might have begged his way into work. If so ... well, am I just going to let him do that, or have I been pushed out?
Addendum To: Check Engine Light's On In My Car
Since that Saturday two weeks ago, when all of a sudden the Check Engine light went on in my car, I have not seen it again. I've driven it to a house party out in Maple Grove, I've even driven it in the snow Christmas Eve down to Southdale and up to my brother and sister-in-law's place. While preparing myself to freak out over seeing it while driving on the highway, and even though the Low Oil Level light is going off all the time, the Check Engine Light is nowhere to be seen.
I was going to bring the car in if it continued to light up, but that would make no sense now. A mechanic can't figure out what's the problem if the indicator light does not indicate there is a problem. So maybe it can only come on again when the circumstances are aligned again. For example, when it came on a couple weeks ago it was very cold, and it's going to be ridicuoulsly cold all of next week (one day the high will only reach 0; another day it'll stay below 0). Or, maybe it was just an anomaly, a sign that my car is just friggin' old. But till then, I won't sweat it because I can't.
I was going to bring the car in if it continued to light up, but that would make no sense now. A mechanic can't figure out what's the problem if the indicator light does not indicate there is a problem. So maybe it can only come on again when the circumstances are aligned again. For example, when it came on a couple weeks ago it was very cold, and it's going to be ridicuoulsly cold all of next week (one day the high will only reach 0; another day it'll stay below 0). Or, maybe it was just an anomaly, a sign that my car is just friggin' old. But till then, I won't sweat it because I can't.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Addendum To: Addendum To: Mystery Meat
Remember when I said that I can eat anything that's in the fridge no matter how long it's been in there? Yeah, fuck that noise.
Last week, maybe a little longer ago, I thought I was going to warm up the third-to-the-last packet of ribs. I opened it up and I saw some white stuff around one end. But this was not fat soaking up to the surface, which I thought was the case with the mystery meat I ate and blogged about before, or what I thought was on the ribs I had eaten before that. Upon closer inspection it had the texture of snow ... which I think is a telltale sign of freezer burn, or worse.
I freaked out again and started looking through the other ribs. They too had those fuzzy white spots, but they also had rings of green spots around them too -- signs of mold. OK, I'm not brave enough to eat that.
I then looked into the bag of chicken, of which I had, like, five pieces left. Three of them seemed good enough, but the other two had spots which were covered in that white and green. Honestly, if I saw only the pieces of chicken with those spots, I might have taken a shot at eating them, thinking they too were pieces of fat. But given that it seemed obvious that the ribs were in the refrigerator too long, the chicken must have as well. So I cut bait, threw all of those ribs and bad pieces of chicken together, took out the three "good" pieces of chicken, cooked them in the toaster oven, and then threw the rest into a garbage bag at one of the nearby gas stations.
The meat was horribly discolored in the pieces of chicken I decided to eat, but again, I'm here to blog about it, so I'm alive, which means they were probably good enough to eat, or not bad enough not to eat. But it turns out that, indeed, there is a time in which leftovers go bad, and maybe I should heed that.
---
Which brings me to the pasta I cooked at ate yesterday, the one which I made too much of. I had put the pasta sauce into the saucepan when I noticed a black spot at the top of the pasta jar. Is that mold? And then, once I got done with cooking but before I ate a bite, I noticed that in the underside of the lid there are paste three black spots. The sauce looked as red as it should, and it seemed to smell normal -- and, again, I'm alive to live to tell the tale of the meal. But now I feel this pressing need to finish the rest of the sauce. I grew up thinking that as long as we screwed the lid on tight, we could leave spaghetti sauce in there as long as we want. Is that really true???
Last week, maybe a little longer ago, I thought I was going to warm up the third-to-the-last packet of ribs. I opened it up and I saw some white stuff around one end. But this was not fat soaking up to the surface, which I thought was the case with the mystery meat I ate and blogged about before, or what I thought was on the ribs I had eaten before that. Upon closer inspection it had the texture of snow ... which I think is a telltale sign of freezer burn, or worse.
I freaked out again and started looking through the other ribs. They too had those fuzzy white spots, but they also had rings of green spots around them too -- signs of mold. OK, I'm not brave enough to eat that.
I then looked into the bag of chicken, of which I had, like, five pieces left. Three of them seemed good enough, but the other two had spots which were covered in that white and green. Honestly, if I saw only the pieces of chicken with those spots, I might have taken a shot at eating them, thinking they too were pieces of fat. But given that it seemed obvious that the ribs were in the refrigerator too long, the chicken must have as well. So I cut bait, threw all of those ribs and bad pieces of chicken together, took out the three "good" pieces of chicken, cooked them in the toaster oven, and then threw the rest into a garbage bag at one of the nearby gas stations.
The meat was horribly discolored in the pieces of chicken I decided to eat, but again, I'm here to blog about it, so I'm alive, which means they were probably good enough to eat, or not bad enough not to eat. But it turns out that, indeed, there is a time in which leftovers go bad, and maybe I should heed that.
---
Which brings me to the pasta I cooked at ate yesterday, the one which I made too much of. I had put the pasta sauce into the saucepan when I noticed a black spot at the top of the pasta jar. Is that mold? And then, once I got done with cooking but before I ate a bite, I noticed that in the underside of the lid there are paste three black spots. The sauce looked as red as it should, and it seemed to smell normal -- and, again, I'm alive to live to tell the tale of the meal. But now I feel this pressing need to finish the rest of the sauce. I grew up thinking that as long as we screwed the lid on tight, we could leave spaghetti sauce in there as long as we want. Is that really true???
Thursday, December 26, 2013
I Should/Must Enjoy These 48 Hours At Work
Weird time, the days after Christmas. Most people, I reckon, are taking the rest of the week off this week, if they haven't taken the whole week off. Guess that's the special conundrum people who have employment faced this year. Since Christmas fell on a Wednesday, right in the middle of the week, people who needed to or wanted to work at least part of the week had the option of picking which half. The guess here is that since they could probably chain the Part-Time Off they've built up over the year, they'll take the back part of this week and the first part of next week, where next Wednesday is New Year's Day, off so that they'll be back full-time at work on Thursday, January 2. At least that's what the two remaining temps are doing.
Actually I guess it doesn't really matter. My immediate supervisor is taking today and tomorrow off. One person I need to consult with for the task I'm doing now took Tuesday off, and she might take the rest of next week off as far as I know. The building today (and really since the beginning of the week) has been a skeleton, a quiet ghost house. There are people who, like me, only took Wednesday off. (They're probably temps like me, who can't afford to take off any other day besides the ones mandated by the law.) Some started their vacation today, some started over the weekend, some may come in Monday and others won't till the following Monday. Regardless, this is the time of year where companies all around the country and world are at least than peak manpower. And I guess that's the way it should be.
I for one like it. For one thing traffic was a breeze today. It was fairly light Monday and Tuesday, but even compared to the beginning of the week today's commute was almost delightful. I had to wipe snow off my parents' minivan, so I got out of the driveway late, and I still made it to work on time ... almost.
Then I'm at work and I have my area to myself. It's pretty empty now: What was once a hallway of eight people is currently down to three, I'm separated from the other two, and those two are gone for a week. So I'm all by lonesome, and I have to admit it feels glorious. All I did was pop my headphones on and listen to Premier League Soccer on my satellite radio or KFAN while typing in numbers -- actually more like moving my fingers in a choreographed way for each consent form; dude, I was cruising! -- without interruption or anything that would distract me. Well, I did make small-talk with a few people, but that ensured that I wasn't a soulless creep. Otherwise I was off on my own world, not worried about anybody looking over my shoulder or even giving me a facile reason to jolt my short-attention span brain into action.
This could go on for another week. But my boss will be back Monday, and then the other two temps will be back on the 2nd, and this place (at least my area and responsibilities) will get busier again. It's not as if I don't have things to do now, but the people who are in charge of me act as if it's still the holiday season, and they're going to take things easy, at least till the beginning of next week, if not next Thursday. If that's the case, I have to enjoy tomorrow just working at my own pace, stopping whenever I want to sip coffee or look at the Internet real quick or just space out, and feel as if I'm not beholden to anyone. Because right now I'm in my own place, and it is glorious.
Actually I guess it doesn't really matter. My immediate supervisor is taking today and tomorrow off. One person I need to consult with for the task I'm doing now took Tuesday off, and she might take the rest of next week off as far as I know. The building today (and really since the beginning of the week) has been a skeleton, a quiet ghost house. There are people who, like me, only took Wednesday off. (They're probably temps like me, who can't afford to take off any other day besides the ones mandated by the law.) Some started their vacation today, some started over the weekend, some may come in Monday and others won't till the following Monday. Regardless, this is the time of year where companies all around the country and world are at least than peak manpower. And I guess that's the way it should be.
I for one like it. For one thing traffic was a breeze today. It was fairly light Monday and Tuesday, but even compared to the beginning of the week today's commute was almost delightful. I had to wipe snow off my parents' minivan, so I got out of the driveway late, and I still made it to work on time ... almost.
Then I'm at work and I have my area to myself. It's pretty empty now: What was once a hallway of eight people is currently down to three, I'm separated from the other two, and those two are gone for a week. So I'm all by lonesome, and I have to admit it feels glorious. All I did was pop my headphones on and listen to Premier League Soccer on my satellite radio or KFAN while typing in numbers -- actually more like moving my fingers in a choreographed way for each consent form; dude, I was cruising! -- without interruption or anything that would distract me. Well, I did make small-talk with a few people, but that ensured that I wasn't a soulless creep. Otherwise I was off on my own world, not worried about anybody looking over my shoulder or even giving me a facile reason to jolt my short-attention span brain into action.
This could go on for another week. But my boss will be back Monday, and then the other two temps will be back on the 2nd, and this place (at least my area and responsibilities) will get busier again. It's not as if I don't have things to do now, but the people who are in charge of me act as if it's still the holiday season, and they're going to take things easy, at least till the beginning of next week, if not next Thursday. If that's the case, I have to enjoy tomorrow just working at my own pace, stopping whenever I want to sip coffee or look at the Internet real quick or just space out, and feel as if I'm not beholden to anyone. Because right now I'm in my own place, and it is glorious.
Bad Cooking, Too Much Eating On Christmas
Kind of fucked up Christmas. My plan, at least my thoughts, were to wake up early enough to make pasta with the sausage I bought on sale. Inbetween that and finally nuking the latest plastic tub of fried rice my parents saved for me, I would clear the driveway and/or back deck of snow so I would expend some of the calories consumed from the pasta. But I was going to let my sleep dictate my yesterday, and my body told me to wake up at 11 or 11:30 -- I fell asleep at 1:30, and I resume my early work schedule this morning, so sleeping in was the right thing to do.
So I had to adjust; after an hour of not wanting to get out of the bed, let alone the house, I finally decided I would shovel snow from the front first, then eat. But then I remembered I hadn't blogged yet, so I delayed eating until I got done with that. I came in at 1, after about an hour of shoveling the driveway, just in time to see the beginning of the ABC pre-game to the two NBA games that were going to be on. (By the way, the intro to NBA Showtime on ABC is pretty damn slick. I like it a lot, and you guys should check it out.) I didn't finish the blog post (the previous one, about me getting jerked off by ****a) until a little bit before 3:30. Then it didn't really make sense to eat twice, especially since I've made it a Christmas tradition to get a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory Christmas Eve and eat it the night of Christmas Day. So the fried rice can wait; I decided to make pasta for the first time in a long time.
And my Buddha, what a fucking disaster. I learned from previous experience that the first thing I need to do is boil the water for the pasta, and the second thing to do was to pull apart the meat. But this was sausage -- a little tougher to pull apart because of all the fat. (It is supposed to balled up, after all, like it shows on the picture in the front of the package.) By the time I got through the entire pound, the water was spilling over the top of the pot and into the stove ring below.
Then I throw the pasta in -- but which kind? We have a lot of different boxes, so I was looking through them to see which ones have been opened and then which ones were set to expire. I settled on finishing the thin spaghetti, then ripping open a box of generic elbow macaroni that has a Best Before date of 10/19/11. Previous experience also reminded me to not slavishly follow the serving recommendations, because one time I made too little, at least compared to the amount of sauce I made. So even though the recipe in the back of the box said half of it would serve eight, I figured that would be enough to serve myself.
Wow, was I bleeping wrong about that. When I got done with the pasta (water still spilling out everywhere -- how come it does that when I was 1 1/2 quarts short of the four quarts recommended to boil it?) there was a huge heap of it, so much that, once again, I still had a little left and thought I wouldn't be able to finish it all. It would be an amount the man I was twenty or ten years ago would be able to eat without an issue, but hey, I'm 37. Moreover, I was so preoccupied with cooking the sausage with the pasta sauce (which isn't ... how do you say it, incorporating together? The pasta sauce I make doesn't look like the pasta sauce on the pictures and on TV. What am I doing wrong?) that I forgot to toss the thin spaghetti and elbow macaroni. I let it cool as well, so that when I was ready to put it into my plate, it came out in one fully-formed heap. Also, even though I thought I was frantically stirring the pasta pot, some of the elbow macaroni wound up sticking to the bottom of it, meaning I had to take some time late tonight to scour it out with a pad.
At least the pasta came out al dente, and it looked like I made enough sauce for the gigantic bowl of pasta I made for myself. Too bad the sausage balls rolled off the pasta solid, over the dish and onto the floor. And since said pasta was so huge, I had to serve myself the sauce twice or else all the pasta sauce would have fallen to the floor. That second helping of sauce was cold off the sauce pan; even though the pasta was warm (probably because it kept its shape), the sauce was cold, so I had to make sure I stirred them together to eat something warm.
Maybe I should cut back on how much I make because I'm still full. I shoveled the back, which helped, but this time around that work didn't feel as if I burned as many calories as other times, even though I cleared a few inches off of it. I was able to eat one of the three cheesecakes I bought for myself (I bought a fourth, for ****a, after I offered to get her one for our one-on-one Christmas Eve), but I wasn't really hungry. However, I was able to drink a can of Bud Light with the pasta, then after an early-evening nap (in which I missed the end of a game where the game Lakers stuck around before losing to the Heat) I needed to drink an entire can of Coke, and then I needed to chase down the cheesecake with orange juice, and I'm drinking yet another cup of OJ now. After pasta for dinner I'm thirsty while not feeling particularly hungry, you know?
I really thought that with my parents away, my naturally lazy state and the need to write, sleep and masturbate to online pornography would keep me from eating a whole lot. I don't know if that's the case, and I have 25 days to lose some weight before they come back.
So I had to adjust; after an hour of not wanting to get out of the bed, let alone the house, I finally decided I would shovel snow from the front first, then eat. But then I remembered I hadn't blogged yet, so I delayed eating until I got done with that. I came in at 1, after about an hour of shoveling the driveway, just in time to see the beginning of the ABC pre-game to the two NBA games that were going to be on. (By the way, the intro to NBA Showtime on ABC is pretty damn slick. I like it a lot, and you guys should check it out.) I didn't finish the blog post (the previous one, about me getting jerked off by ****a) until a little bit before 3:30. Then it didn't really make sense to eat twice, especially since I've made it a Christmas tradition to get a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory Christmas Eve and eat it the night of Christmas Day. So the fried rice can wait; I decided to make pasta for the first time in a long time.
And my Buddha, what a fucking disaster. I learned from previous experience that the first thing I need to do is boil the water for the pasta, and the second thing to do was to pull apart the meat. But this was sausage -- a little tougher to pull apart because of all the fat. (It is supposed to balled up, after all, like it shows on the picture in the front of the package.) By the time I got through the entire pound, the water was spilling over the top of the pot and into the stove ring below.
Then I throw the pasta in -- but which kind? We have a lot of different boxes, so I was looking through them to see which ones have been opened and then which ones were set to expire. I settled on finishing the thin spaghetti, then ripping open a box of generic elbow macaroni that has a Best Before date of 10/19/11. Previous experience also reminded me to not slavishly follow the serving recommendations, because one time I made too little, at least compared to the amount of sauce I made. So even though the recipe in the back of the box said half of it would serve eight, I figured that would be enough to serve myself.
Wow, was I bleeping wrong about that. When I got done with the pasta (water still spilling out everywhere -- how come it does that when I was 1 1/2 quarts short of the four quarts recommended to boil it?) there was a huge heap of it, so much that, once again, I still had a little left and thought I wouldn't be able to finish it all. It would be an amount the man I was twenty or ten years ago would be able to eat without an issue, but hey, I'm 37. Moreover, I was so preoccupied with cooking the sausage with the pasta sauce (which isn't ... how do you say it, incorporating together? The pasta sauce I make doesn't look like the pasta sauce on the pictures and on TV. What am I doing wrong?) that I forgot to toss the thin spaghetti and elbow macaroni. I let it cool as well, so that when I was ready to put it into my plate, it came out in one fully-formed heap. Also, even though I thought I was frantically stirring the pasta pot, some of the elbow macaroni wound up sticking to the bottom of it, meaning I had to take some time late tonight to scour it out with a pad.
At least the pasta came out al dente, and it looked like I made enough sauce for the gigantic bowl of pasta I made for myself. Too bad the sausage balls rolled off the pasta solid, over the dish and onto the floor. And since said pasta was so huge, I had to serve myself the sauce twice or else all the pasta sauce would have fallen to the floor. That second helping of sauce was cold off the sauce pan; even though the pasta was warm (probably because it kept its shape), the sauce was cold, so I had to make sure I stirred them together to eat something warm.
Maybe I should cut back on how much I make because I'm still full. I shoveled the back, which helped, but this time around that work didn't feel as if I burned as many calories as other times, even though I cleared a few inches off of it. I was able to eat one of the three cheesecakes I bought for myself (I bought a fourth, for ****a, after I offered to get her one for our one-on-one Christmas Eve), but I wasn't really hungry. However, I was able to drink a can of Bud Light with the pasta, then after an early-evening nap (in which I missed the end of a game where the game Lakers stuck around before losing to the Heat) I needed to drink an entire can of Coke, and then I needed to chase down the cheesecake with orange juice, and I'm drinking yet another cup of OJ now. After pasta for dinner I'm thirsty while not feeling particularly hungry, you know?
I really thought that with my parents away, my naturally lazy state and the need to write, sleep and masturbate to online pornography would keep me from eating a whole lot. I don't know if that's the case, and I have 25 days to lose some weight before they come back.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Massage
This is as good a time as any to talk about my first sexy massage -- on Christmas.
I've known ****a for a long time. She was a stripper at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) for a long time. I think it was there when, one day, she slipped me a business card. She did massages ... well, of course she does "massages," although if you were completely clueless, you couldn't tell that from her card.
I was kind of taken aback. I've heard of these "massages" before, most notably how people got busted in the middle of them. I certainly didn't want that. But I know her, she's hot, and -- and I have to be honest about it -- she gets extra points for not being Asian. All these massage parlors, as far as I know, are staffed by Asians. As much as I like sexual contact from women I never mustered the courage to get one from a massage parlor because I got a creepy incestuous feeling. But this was much different, and therefore I always kept her card somewhere, just for the right time.
She gave me that card a long, long time ago. Never acted on it. Shoot, I've been to her place when she was doing house parties. I remember the first time I came over, at the behest of my All-Time Favorite ***e*. ****a answered the door topless. Just a pair of jean shorts. And I thought to myself, "I have to get a 'massage' from her."
So why haven't I? I don't really know. Maybe I didn't want to deal with the prices. She showed her prices on, of all things, a picture she hung on the wall: $60 for 30 minutes, $90 for 60. You add the extra services ****a supposedly provides and that seemed like a hell of a lot. Although, it has to be said, in that very same party I spent $100 for the handjob ***e* gave me.
There was a guy who was/is one of ****a's clients. One of us disclosed her massage service, and he told me that she was really good. I remember him saying that ****a "does some, you know, rub-and-tug." And maybe that's why I hadn't gotten any from her for a long time. It's kind of weird to see another guy partake in the shit you want to do with the same girl. Maybe that's a reason why I didn't bite the bullet for so long after that.
Finally, this year I was hired to be a flu biller again, so I knew I had the money to pay for it. And since my folks took a cruise in mid-September, that was the perfect time to do it. I finally contacted her (probably through the phone, although I may have initially noted my interest in doing this through e-mail) and set up a time and a price: $120 for a half-hour, through completion. No, ****a does not fuck or suck dick. That's OK; I'll keep working her anyway.
So her "studio" is not too far away from where I live. Unfortunately, she shares her "office" with other people and things. I looked up her place on Google Maps and apparently a local television studio broadcasts from the same address. And when I finally figured out where the front door was (I had to call her and she had to direct me from my parked car around the corner; it's facing the busy street) I saw a guy there -- not one of ****a's clients, but he was there. Damn, no screaming from me that night.
A girl was there, however, and she was with ****a. In fact, ****a says she was her "student." She offered the chance to be "serviced" by the both of her. She wasn't the worst-looking girl in the world. She was kind of chubby, but to be frank, so is ****a. She'd be good to go naked. But I would have had to pay double for both, and I didn't have the money. So she left.
---
After some small talk I asked if we could strip each other. I began with her. I wanted to try and unclasp her bra because I wanted to learn how to unclasp bras, but she did it herself. In the meantime I took myself out through the open fly of my porno pants. That always gets me up, even though I wasn't totally hard. She ... didn't care. ****a just told me to get on the massage bed, face down. I didn't get a towel to cover me because, why?
For the $120 total I wondered if there was going to be an actual massage that leads up to the happy ending. At least when it comes to ****a, the answer is no. She did bust out the lotion, but the only "real" "massagy" thing she did was rub the lotion on my back, with no pressure whatsoever. On the second or third pass, however, she went all the way down my back to my ass. And then she pulled a few of the hairs in my nether regions, which was such a wake-up call my body jerked in reaction.
****a knows all the moves. She is a tease, but that's because she knows building up to the climax is the most satisfying way to please a man. But while she's done this probably dozens of times, this was my first time getting this done, so I literally have never been touched the ways she did. For example, after pulling my from-under-place hairs, she moved down to my left leg. Compulsory massaging there; it was like what I do when putting lotion on my leg. But then she reached up and ringed my testicles by touching her thumb and index finger around it. Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. And then ****a just outright grabbed my balls. That felt so good, so motherfucking good, that ... this might sound weird, but ****a forced me to arch my back so I can take all of her ringy, grabby touching. And then I had to get up on all fours, the only position in which I can withstand the sensation. If that woman was there -- shit, if there was a cellphone camera there -- I would be fucked. I never have been in that kind of position, literally arching my back and on all fours, figuratively in submissive bliss, ever. But to repeat, I was not unhappy like that.
****a told me to flip over to work on my front, and probably to bring me home, so to speak. She teased my nipples, and I returned the favor by biting hers. "Ooh!" she said as she jerked back in shock, and not in a good way, "Don't do that. I'm on my period." Like she did when I was face-down, she moved her lotioned hands down my body, from my chest all the way down to my junk. She squeezed my berries and pulled my pubes. All the while, however, I never got fully erect. I feel bad about that. I kind of think that saluting ****a and her actions with my cock is a sign of respect. I wonder if she thinks if there's something wrong with me. I've thought about using Viagra -- not seriously, but I've thought about it from time to time, just so I can be rock-hard in cases like this.
All throughout the session we were interrupted by texts coming into her phone -- family and her mother, who's a lawyer. That may have been why we went over a half-hour. I wasn't unhappy, partly because I got to spend more time with her, partly because whenever she stopped her "massaging" we both stood up and I started caressing her ass or pulling on her nipples or rubbing her twat. But it was time to end this. She told me to move to one side as she hopped next to me and finally started touching my penis. I hadn't realized she waited this long to get to the only muscle I really needed massaging.
One complaint I have about all the handjobs I've received is the lotion they use. ****a used a lot, an excessive amount, lotion that I could have used, say, on my hands and feet. I've never understand the need it to use it as a lubricant. I don't use it on myself. Hell, I consider lotion to be a barrier, something the woman places inbetween her and I. I want the full her, you know, her natural finger oils, her callouses, her prints on my cock. Besides, her hands probably would make me cum faster, especially if they're rough. I did ask ****a to spit on my tip, and I think she got some of it on me, although she may have spat more onto the bed.
I dangled my right leg off the table just as I was about to orgasm. I think I shook it when I ejaculated, as if shaking that would make the ejaculation go easier. I don't know if it helped.
After she finished me off I just laid there, as if she defeated me. ****a quickly got up and wiped her hands of my life essence with a hand towel. You know, it always turns me on whenever a girl who just serviced me wipes cum off her hands. I note with what she does it with. Sometimes it's tissues, sometimes it's the towelettes I bring for us, sometimes it's my shirt, and sometimes it's a wall, which one girl did in a strip club. Since this is her massage office, she can use all the towels that she wants. Hell, she does this all the time, so she probably just throws them in a hamper until it's full. She also offered me another towel to wipe the semen that I spurted onto myself.
And then we got dressed, I offered to walk out with her, ****a says she had to stick around, and we said goodbye. No big deal -- even though it means a great deal to me.
---
I liked it so much that I wanted to do it last night, Christmas Eve. I liked the subversive irony of it: Celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ by getting a handjob. But we got our second big snowstorm of the season last night, starting from when I went from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) to my brother and sister-in-law's house. I bugged out of their place early to get to her parlor in time, but after I cleared my car of snow and got into it, I saw her text asking to reschedule. We might -- for New Year's Eve, for example.
I've known ****a for a long time. She was a stripper at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) for a long time. I think it was there when, one day, she slipped me a business card. She did massages ... well, of course she does "massages," although if you were completely clueless, you couldn't tell that from her card.
I was kind of taken aback. I've heard of these "massages" before, most notably how people got busted in the middle of them. I certainly didn't want that. But I know her, she's hot, and -- and I have to be honest about it -- she gets extra points for not being Asian. All these massage parlors, as far as I know, are staffed by Asians. As much as I like sexual contact from women I never mustered the courage to get one from a massage parlor because I got a creepy incestuous feeling. But this was much different, and therefore I always kept her card somewhere, just for the right time.
She gave me that card a long, long time ago. Never acted on it. Shoot, I've been to her place when she was doing house parties. I remember the first time I came over, at the behest of my All-Time Favorite ***e*. ****a answered the door topless. Just a pair of jean shorts. And I thought to myself, "I have to get a 'massage' from her."
So why haven't I? I don't really know. Maybe I didn't want to deal with the prices. She showed her prices on, of all things, a picture she hung on the wall: $60 for 30 minutes, $90 for 60. You add the extra services ****a supposedly provides and that seemed like a hell of a lot. Although, it has to be said, in that very same party I spent $100 for the handjob ***e* gave me.
There was a guy who was/is one of ****a's clients. One of us disclosed her massage service, and he told me that she was really good. I remember him saying that ****a "does some, you know, rub-and-tug." And maybe that's why I hadn't gotten any from her for a long time. It's kind of weird to see another guy partake in the shit you want to do with the same girl. Maybe that's a reason why I didn't bite the bullet for so long after that.
Finally, this year I was hired to be a flu biller again, so I knew I had the money to pay for it. And since my folks took a cruise in mid-September, that was the perfect time to do it. I finally contacted her (probably through the phone, although I may have initially noted my interest in doing this through e-mail) and set up a time and a price: $120 for a half-hour, through completion. No, ****a does not fuck or suck dick. That's OK; I'll keep working her anyway.
So her "studio" is not too far away from where I live. Unfortunately, she shares her "office" with other people and things. I looked up her place on Google Maps and apparently a local television studio broadcasts from the same address. And when I finally figured out where the front door was (I had to call her and she had to direct me from my parked car around the corner; it's facing the busy street) I saw a guy there -- not one of ****a's clients, but he was there. Damn, no screaming from me that night.
A girl was there, however, and she was with ****a. In fact, ****a says she was her "student." She offered the chance to be "serviced" by the both of her. She wasn't the worst-looking girl in the world. She was kind of chubby, but to be frank, so is ****a. She'd be good to go naked. But I would have had to pay double for both, and I didn't have the money. So she left.
---
After some small talk I asked if we could strip each other. I began with her. I wanted to try and unclasp her bra because I wanted to learn how to unclasp bras, but she did it herself. In the meantime I took myself out through the open fly of my porno pants. That always gets me up, even though I wasn't totally hard. She ... didn't care. ****a just told me to get on the massage bed, face down. I didn't get a towel to cover me because, why?
For the $120 total I wondered if there was going to be an actual massage that leads up to the happy ending. At least when it comes to ****a, the answer is no. She did bust out the lotion, but the only "real" "massagy" thing she did was rub the lotion on my back, with no pressure whatsoever. On the second or third pass, however, she went all the way down my back to my ass. And then she pulled a few of the hairs in my nether regions, which was such a wake-up call my body jerked in reaction.
****a knows all the moves. She is a tease, but that's because she knows building up to the climax is the most satisfying way to please a man. But while she's done this probably dozens of times, this was my first time getting this done, so I literally have never been touched the ways she did. For example, after pulling my from-under-place hairs, she moved down to my left leg. Compulsory massaging there; it was like what I do when putting lotion on my leg. But then she reached up and ringed my testicles by touching her thumb and index finger around it. Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. And then ****a just outright grabbed my balls. That felt so good, so motherfucking good, that ... this might sound weird, but ****a forced me to arch my back so I can take all of her ringy, grabby touching. And then I had to get up on all fours, the only position in which I can withstand the sensation. If that woman was there -- shit, if there was a cellphone camera there -- I would be fucked. I never have been in that kind of position, literally arching my back and on all fours, figuratively in submissive bliss, ever. But to repeat, I was not unhappy like that.
****a told me to flip over to work on my front, and probably to bring me home, so to speak. She teased my nipples, and I returned the favor by biting hers. "Ooh!" she said as she jerked back in shock, and not in a good way, "Don't do that. I'm on my period." Like she did when I was face-down, she moved her lotioned hands down my body, from my chest all the way down to my junk. She squeezed my berries and pulled my pubes. All the while, however, I never got fully erect. I feel bad about that. I kind of think that saluting ****a and her actions with my cock is a sign of respect. I wonder if she thinks if there's something wrong with me. I've thought about using Viagra -- not seriously, but I've thought about it from time to time, just so I can be rock-hard in cases like this.
All throughout the session we were interrupted by texts coming into her phone -- family and her mother, who's a lawyer. That may have been why we went over a half-hour. I wasn't unhappy, partly because I got to spend more time with her, partly because whenever she stopped her "massaging" we both stood up and I started caressing her ass or pulling on her nipples or rubbing her twat. But it was time to end this. She told me to move to one side as she hopped next to me and finally started touching my penis. I hadn't realized she waited this long to get to the only muscle I really needed massaging.
One complaint I have about all the handjobs I've received is the lotion they use. ****a used a lot, an excessive amount, lotion that I could have used, say, on my hands and feet. I've never understand the need it to use it as a lubricant. I don't use it on myself. Hell, I consider lotion to be a barrier, something the woman places inbetween her and I. I want the full her, you know, her natural finger oils, her callouses, her prints on my cock. Besides, her hands probably would make me cum faster, especially if they're rough. I did ask ****a to spit on my tip, and I think she got some of it on me, although she may have spat more onto the bed.
I dangled my right leg off the table just as I was about to orgasm. I think I shook it when I ejaculated, as if shaking that would make the ejaculation go easier. I don't know if it helped.
After she finished me off I just laid there, as if she defeated me. ****a quickly got up and wiped her hands of my life essence with a hand towel. You know, it always turns me on whenever a girl who just serviced me wipes cum off her hands. I note with what she does it with. Sometimes it's tissues, sometimes it's the towelettes I bring for us, sometimes it's my shirt, and sometimes it's a wall, which one girl did in a strip club. Since this is her massage office, she can use all the towels that she wants. Hell, she does this all the time, so she probably just throws them in a hamper until it's full. She also offered me another towel to wipe the semen that I spurted onto myself.
And then we got dressed, I offered to walk out with her, ****a says she had to stick around, and we said goodbye. No big deal -- even though it means a great deal to me.
---
I liked it so much that I wanted to do it last night, Christmas Eve. I liked the subversive irony of it: Celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ by getting a handjob. But we got our second big snowstorm of the season last night, starting from when I went from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) to my brother and sister-in-law's house. I bugged out of their place early to get to her parlor in time, but after I cleared my car of snow and got into it, I saw her text asking to reschedule. We might -- for New Year's Eve, for example.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -2). In what was a down, a very down, week overall for Twin Cities sports, we give the top slot to the U. penis ballers, who win this place almost by default, also known as a 92-79 win over cupcake Nebraska-Omaha. (I probably used the term "cupcake" over something else, like "pushover" or "patsy," because as I type this I am eating a cupcake from nationally-renowned local restaurant chain Cupcake. I am eating their Key Lime which I ordered Thursday but kept in the fridge because I couldn't get around to eating it until now. It's a little tough, which may or may not be its original constitution, but still ... hmmmmmmmm, cuuuuuuupcaaaaaaake .........)
You know what they should do to break up this Murdered Row of mid-to-low majors BcS schools always load up on during their non-conference schedule? Lower the damage a road loss, and elevate the benefit of a road win, to a team's Ratings Percentage Index. Sure, that might inflate or distort a program's actual strength, but at least it'll get more high majors to hit the road knowing that there might be more CV-building at hand away from home. The way the RPI is tabulated now, I can understand why the Gophers scheduled a seven-game homestand to straddle the New Year. This Saturday night they host Texas A&M-Corpus Christi.
#-2: Gopher women's basketball (Re-Entry!). Well, the good news is they won their Subway Classic. However, they did it despite winding up in a three-way tie for first ... at 1-1 with the two other schools in the tournament. They crushed Auburn 67-54 Sunday afternoon, however on Friday afternoon, before the largest crowd the team has seen yet this year, they lost a close one at Williams Arena to UCLA 58-55. But since Auburn beat UCLA Saturday afternoon, the tiebreaker apparently is points allowed, and the Gophers allowed the fewest. So yay ... ?
Congratulations to Rachel Banham, who scored her 1,500th point in her college career in the victory over the Tigers. She becomes the eighth player in the program to reach that mark, and partly because of that she was named Most Valuable Player of the tourney. Also, congratulations to Amanda Zahui B., named Big Ten Freshman Of The Week for the second time. She's becoming a force, no doubt. Nevertheless, it seems as if there are only two worthy players on this squad, as evidenced by losing at home to the Bruins. They continue their six-game homestand Sunday afternoon against Oakland.
#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). Frankly it was hard to differentiate between the Woofie Dogs and the Mild this week. Both won only one game this screening week, both of them at home, both of them against pretty solid teams. I'll give it to the Woofs because their win was more legitimate. Part of what I mean by that I'll explain in the next entry, but that win came against Portland, currently the club with the best record in the National Basketball Association. Sure, they came off a thrilling victory the day before in Chicago (courtesy of a last-second shot by Damian Lillard), but it counts nonetheless.
Sadly, the ofer the Wolves pulled at Staples Center this weekend also counts. Despite playing without Kobe Bryant and Steve Nash, The Bastard Minneapolis Lakers managed to beat Minnesota going away on Friday by 13. And then came the fuck-up at the end of that howler against the Clippers Sunday. With a two-point lead very late in regulation, the inbounds pass was thrown to Kevin Martin in the backcourt. Martin was quickly double-teamed, and no one came back over the half-court line to save him. Martin lost control of the ball, and the turnover and lay-in forced overtime, where the Bastard Buffalo Braves/San Diego Clippers won 120-116. (Sunday, all three active professional teams lost. Once again, Minnesota is Loserville, USA.) So as of right now, the Timberwolves are 2 1/2 games out of the Western Conference playoffs.
One harbinger of doom is glowing brighter and brighter by the game: Ricky Rubio is rapidly devolving. While Kevin Love continues to put up insane numbers -- he scored, like, 40+ points against the Clippers -- Rubio still has not been able to develop a shot. He can see the court like few others and can pass like no one's business. But his inability to score has been so bad that Head Coach Rick Adelman pulled him late in the Lakers game in favor of J.J. Barea.
My fear is that the ceiling for Rubio, which seemed to be so far aloft only the Hubble Telescope could see it, is quickly crashing down to earth. And also remember that when reworking the rookie contracts of both, Wolves management gave Love a contract that was one year short of the maximum because they believed the cornerstone of this franchise was Rubio, not him. Doesn't seem like it lately. Probably doesn't matter now. Love is proving he's worth more than his contract and that it is he who should be maxed out. But he isn't, and he's playing like he's pissed off about that -- so pissed off that when it comes time to renegotiate again, he'll hold that against our NBA team. This could be a massive, massive fuck-up for the Woofie Dogs.
This team is off until Friday, when they host Washington. They then travel to Milwaukee Saturday and host Dallas Monday.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -4). We have to tamp down expectations for the Mild, too. While they do have the best home record in the Western Conference, as evidenced by their shootout victory over Vancouver (which is also why I've slotted them below the Timberwolves this WMNSS: Their win is less legitimate), they are now a putrid 1-7-1 in their last nine road games. They have dropped their last three games, all on the road and all against teams in the (supposedly weaker) Eastern Conference by a combined score of, gulp, 13-4. Gulp.
Two growing concerns. One is the injury to Zach Parise, probably the best player the Mild have got right now. He missed Monday night's 4-1 drubbing to the Philadelphia Flyers due to an injury in one-half of his body. In many games he is the only genuinely professional player on the ice for Minnesota. The other, more pressing, issue is the goaltending situation. Josh Harding has played extremely well for the Wild, but has been put on Injured Reserve because his multiple sclerosis medication has to be tweaked (whether this was foreseen or unplanned is still unknown). In his place is Nicklas Backstrom, who was hurt early in the year but has apparently been well enough to play but hasn't because Harding's been so good. This week he has resumed netminding duties, but as you could see by the three straight losses he hasn't been doing well. He's been dreadful, in fact. This raises all sorts of questions: Do you name Harding the starting Goalie from now on? Is Backstrom tradeable now? Is Backstrom so awful that his value as trade bait is zero? And, I guess most importantly, what the fuck happened to Nicklas Backstrom?
One more game on the road, this time in Winnipeg after the Christmas Break. They then return home for a four-game stretch starting with the New York Islanders.
#-5: Vikings (Last Week: -1). I was torn. I had planned on going out before the Vikings game was on TV Sunday to do some grocery shopping and grab a bite to eat using an Arby's coupon and, if I got up early enough, exercise. Instead I decided it was a good time to shovel the snow. Why I did it without checking the forecast is beyond me, because the fucking snow started up in the afternoon, just as I got done. Doing that pushed my timeline back to the point where I decided to quit shoveling just around the time the game began.
So I had a choice: Continue shoveling, quit and stay to watch, or leave. In the end, I thought that I needed to give my parents' minivan a workout after leaving it untouched on the driveway for two straight days, so I thought then and there that, fuck it, forget the game, I need to get some groceries and a bite to eat. They were going to lose, anyway.
By the time I started the minivan and turned on the radio, Matt Cassel got sacked and lost the football. And by the time I parked at the grocery store, Cincinnati scored. And once I got to the parking lot at Arby's the score was 21-7 Bengals.
I stuck around watching the dining room television till halftime, when the ViQueens were safely behind, for me to resume shoveling, this time the back deck. And once I got done with that, I sat done, saw the rest of the abortion, and promptly shot myself.
We are a fickle people, fellow Vikings fans. I admit to a bad case of knee-jerk reactions and recency bias. Just last week, after Cassel's masterful performance in crushing a very good Philadelphia squad, I thought he could be good enough to keep around. Now, after this debacle, I can't see him starting for us and think the team needs to draft a Quarterback pronto purgers. Then again, I can see him throwing for 400 yards and four touchdowns in beating the hell out of an unmotivated Detroit Lions team that lost five of six and just got eliminated to the New York Giants at home Sunday. (Man, I thought we Vikes fans have it bad. I thought the Lions were going to crush the undermanned Giants. OK, we're not the only miserable football fan base, I see.) And then I will think, "Well, at least he's the devil we know." So maybe I should just not make any assumptions until at least the season's over next weekend.
What does worry me is how lifeless the club played for Head Coach Leslie Frazier. In my mind there are only two reasons you fire a coach: He loses the lockerroom or he has shown in inability to get the most talent out of his players. Of the four professional sports in America, being a Head Coach in football is the most important. But seeing Cassel throw to the wrong people (or to space) and seeing the secondary continually get burned by A.J. Green and the Bengals receivers makes me think that not only does this team need a better defense, the defensive players they've trotted out there have been hand-picked by General Manager Rick Spielman.
Now, I'm not calling for Spielman's head either; his draft two years ago of Matt Kalil, Harrison Smith and Blair Walsh still stands up, despite this bad season. I'm just saying that diagnosing the problem(s) is complex, and in the National Football League fortunes can turn on a dime from season to season. Yes, you are what your record says you are, and Frazier has led teams that have amassed at least ten losses two out of the last three years. I nevertheless am not convinced that firing Frazier will make a goddamn bit of difference.
I saw on the news today that Adrian Peterson will go to bat for Frazier. I appreciate his loyalty. But if Spielman and/or Zygi Wilf decide it's time to let go of Frazier, they might let Peterson go, too. After all, he's so good a commodity that the offense is built around him and the running game ... and the run game is what you have to abandon if you're down by 20+ points at halftime. Dare I say it -- the offense may be freed if Peterson is gone from the team.
#-Infinity: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -Infinity). They didn't play, nonetheless I am compelled to talk about this team just one more time before I let the program rest for the next eight months. We don't have a fierce rivalry with Wisconsin in volleyball the way we do (at least in our minds) against Penn St. and Nebraska. But while Hugh McCutcheon has been with Minnesota for two years, leading both teams to Sweet 16 appearances only, Kelly Sheffield, the rookie Head Coach of the Wisconsin Badgers after leaving Dayton, shocked the college volleyball world by taking the 12th-seeded Badgers to the NCAA Championship Game. Wisky is the lowest seed ever to make it to the final, and they did it after beating the #1 overall team in the bracket, Texas, in the semifinal Thursday. Moreover, the Badgers beat the Longhorns in only four sets.
How did that happen? How could a mid-major coach go all the way to the last game of the season on his first try while a gold medal-winning national team coach stall with a more decorated program at the regional semifinals two years running? There shouldn't be an explanation to that. I mean, the Badgers have a great Setter in Lauren Carlini, but I saw Minnesota beat Wisconsin a few weeks ago at the Sports Pavilion in four sets. You can say dem's da breaks, but ... I'm still disappointed that the team across the border beat us out in a sport where we have had much more success.
But hey, congratulations to Tori Dixon, Senior Middle Blocker for the Gophers, for being named one of the 14 players of the AVCA All-America First Team. Plaudits also go out to Ashley Wittman for making the Second Team and Adrianna Nora for getting an Honorable Mention.
You know what they should do to break up this Murdered Row of mid-to-low majors BcS schools always load up on during their non-conference schedule? Lower the damage a road loss, and elevate the benefit of a road win, to a team's Ratings Percentage Index. Sure, that might inflate or distort a program's actual strength, but at least it'll get more high majors to hit the road knowing that there might be more CV-building at hand away from home. The way the RPI is tabulated now, I can understand why the Gophers scheduled a seven-game homestand to straddle the New Year. This Saturday night they host Texas A&M-Corpus Christi.
#-2: Gopher women's basketball (Re-Entry!). Well, the good news is they won their Subway Classic. However, they did it despite winding up in a three-way tie for first ... at 1-1 with the two other schools in the tournament. They crushed Auburn 67-54 Sunday afternoon, however on Friday afternoon, before the largest crowd the team has seen yet this year, they lost a close one at Williams Arena to UCLA 58-55. But since Auburn beat UCLA Saturday afternoon, the tiebreaker apparently is points allowed, and the Gophers allowed the fewest. So yay ... ?
Congratulations to Rachel Banham, who scored her 1,500th point in her college career in the victory over the Tigers. She becomes the eighth player in the program to reach that mark, and partly because of that she was named Most Valuable Player of the tourney. Also, congratulations to Amanda Zahui B., named Big Ten Freshman Of The Week for the second time. She's becoming a force, no doubt. Nevertheless, it seems as if there are only two worthy players on this squad, as evidenced by losing at home to the Bruins. They continue their six-game homestand Sunday afternoon against Oakland.
#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3). Frankly it was hard to differentiate between the Woofie Dogs and the Mild this week. Both won only one game this screening week, both of them at home, both of them against pretty solid teams. I'll give it to the Woofs because their win was more legitimate. Part of what I mean by that I'll explain in the next entry, but that win came against Portland, currently the club with the best record in the National Basketball Association. Sure, they came off a thrilling victory the day before in Chicago (courtesy of a last-second shot by Damian Lillard), but it counts nonetheless.
Sadly, the ofer the Wolves pulled at Staples Center this weekend also counts. Despite playing without Kobe Bryant and Steve Nash, The Bastard Minneapolis Lakers managed to beat Minnesota going away on Friday by 13. And then came the fuck-up at the end of that howler against the Clippers Sunday. With a two-point lead very late in regulation, the inbounds pass was thrown to Kevin Martin in the backcourt. Martin was quickly double-teamed, and no one came back over the half-court line to save him. Martin lost control of the ball, and the turnover and lay-in forced overtime, where the Bastard Buffalo Braves/San Diego Clippers won 120-116. (Sunday, all three active professional teams lost. Once again, Minnesota is Loserville, USA.) So as of right now, the Timberwolves are 2 1/2 games out of the Western Conference playoffs.
One harbinger of doom is glowing brighter and brighter by the game: Ricky Rubio is rapidly devolving. While Kevin Love continues to put up insane numbers -- he scored, like, 40+ points against the Clippers -- Rubio still has not been able to develop a shot. He can see the court like few others and can pass like no one's business. But his inability to score has been so bad that Head Coach Rick Adelman pulled him late in the Lakers game in favor of J.J. Barea.
My fear is that the ceiling for Rubio, which seemed to be so far aloft only the Hubble Telescope could see it, is quickly crashing down to earth. And also remember that when reworking the rookie contracts of both, Wolves management gave Love a contract that was one year short of the maximum because they believed the cornerstone of this franchise was Rubio, not him. Doesn't seem like it lately. Probably doesn't matter now. Love is proving he's worth more than his contract and that it is he who should be maxed out. But he isn't, and he's playing like he's pissed off about that -- so pissed off that when it comes time to renegotiate again, he'll hold that against our NBA team. This could be a massive, massive fuck-up for the Woofie Dogs.
This team is off until Friday, when they host Washington. They then travel to Milwaukee Saturday and host Dallas Monday.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -4). We have to tamp down expectations for the Mild, too. While they do have the best home record in the Western Conference, as evidenced by their shootout victory over Vancouver (which is also why I've slotted them below the Timberwolves this WMNSS: Their win is less legitimate), they are now a putrid 1-7-1 in their last nine road games. They have dropped their last three games, all on the road and all against teams in the (supposedly weaker) Eastern Conference by a combined score of, gulp, 13-4. Gulp.
Two growing concerns. One is the injury to Zach Parise, probably the best player the Mild have got right now. He missed Monday night's 4-1 drubbing to the Philadelphia Flyers due to an injury in one-half of his body. In many games he is the only genuinely professional player on the ice for Minnesota. The other, more pressing, issue is the goaltending situation. Josh Harding has played extremely well for the Wild, but has been put on Injured Reserve because his multiple sclerosis medication has to be tweaked (whether this was foreseen or unplanned is still unknown). In his place is Nicklas Backstrom, who was hurt early in the year but has apparently been well enough to play but hasn't because Harding's been so good. This week he has resumed netminding duties, but as you could see by the three straight losses he hasn't been doing well. He's been dreadful, in fact. This raises all sorts of questions: Do you name Harding the starting Goalie from now on? Is Backstrom tradeable now? Is Backstrom so awful that his value as trade bait is zero? And, I guess most importantly, what the fuck happened to Nicklas Backstrom?
One more game on the road, this time in Winnipeg after the Christmas Break. They then return home for a four-game stretch starting with the New York Islanders.
#-5: Vikings (Last Week: -1). I was torn. I had planned on going out before the Vikings game was on TV Sunday to do some grocery shopping and grab a bite to eat using an Arby's coupon and, if I got up early enough, exercise. Instead I decided it was a good time to shovel the snow. Why I did it without checking the forecast is beyond me, because the fucking snow started up in the afternoon, just as I got done. Doing that pushed my timeline back to the point where I decided to quit shoveling just around the time the game began.
So I had a choice: Continue shoveling, quit and stay to watch, or leave. In the end, I thought that I needed to give my parents' minivan a workout after leaving it untouched on the driveway for two straight days, so I thought then and there that, fuck it, forget the game, I need to get some groceries and a bite to eat. They were going to lose, anyway.
By the time I started the minivan and turned on the radio, Matt Cassel got sacked and lost the football. And by the time I parked at the grocery store, Cincinnati scored. And once I got to the parking lot at Arby's the score was 21-7 Bengals.
I stuck around watching the dining room television till halftime, when the ViQueens were safely behind, for me to resume shoveling, this time the back deck. And once I got done with that, I sat done, saw the rest of the abortion, and promptly shot myself.
We are a fickle people, fellow Vikings fans. I admit to a bad case of knee-jerk reactions and recency bias. Just last week, after Cassel's masterful performance in crushing a very good Philadelphia squad, I thought he could be good enough to keep around. Now, after this debacle, I can't see him starting for us and think the team needs to draft a Quarterback pronto purgers. Then again, I can see him throwing for 400 yards and four touchdowns in beating the hell out of an unmotivated Detroit Lions team that lost five of six and just got eliminated to the New York Giants at home Sunday. (Man, I thought we Vikes fans have it bad. I thought the Lions were going to crush the undermanned Giants. OK, we're not the only miserable football fan base, I see.) And then I will think, "Well, at least he's the devil we know." So maybe I should just not make any assumptions until at least the season's over next weekend.
What does worry me is how lifeless the club played for Head Coach Leslie Frazier. In my mind there are only two reasons you fire a coach: He loses the lockerroom or he has shown in inability to get the most talent out of his players. Of the four professional sports in America, being a Head Coach in football is the most important. But seeing Cassel throw to the wrong people (or to space) and seeing the secondary continually get burned by A.J. Green and the Bengals receivers makes me think that not only does this team need a better defense, the defensive players they've trotted out there have been hand-picked by General Manager Rick Spielman.
Now, I'm not calling for Spielman's head either; his draft two years ago of Matt Kalil, Harrison Smith and Blair Walsh still stands up, despite this bad season. I'm just saying that diagnosing the problem(s) is complex, and in the National Football League fortunes can turn on a dime from season to season. Yes, you are what your record says you are, and Frazier has led teams that have amassed at least ten losses two out of the last three years. I nevertheless am not convinced that firing Frazier will make a goddamn bit of difference.
I saw on the news today that Adrian Peterson will go to bat for Frazier. I appreciate his loyalty. But if Spielman and/or Zygi Wilf decide it's time to let go of Frazier, they might let Peterson go, too. After all, he's so good a commodity that the offense is built around him and the running game ... and the run game is what you have to abandon if you're down by 20+ points at halftime. Dare I say it -- the offense may be freed if Peterson is gone from the team.
#-Infinity: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -Infinity). They didn't play, nonetheless I am compelled to talk about this team just one more time before I let the program rest for the next eight months. We don't have a fierce rivalry with Wisconsin in volleyball the way we do (at least in our minds) against Penn St. and Nebraska. But while Hugh McCutcheon has been with Minnesota for two years, leading both teams to Sweet 16 appearances only, Kelly Sheffield, the rookie Head Coach of the Wisconsin Badgers after leaving Dayton, shocked the college volleyball world by taking the 12th-seeded Badgers to the NCAA Championship Game. Wisky is the lowest seed ever to make it to the final, and they did it after beating the #1 overall team in the bracket, Texas, in the semifinal Thursday. Moreover, the Badgers beat the Longhorns in only four sets.
How did that happen? How could a mid-major coach go all the way to the last game of the season on his first try while a gold medal-winning national team coach stall with a more decorated program at the regional semifinals two years running? There shouldn't be an explanation to that. I mean, the Badgers have a great Setter in Lauren Carlini, but I saw Minnesota beat Wisconsin a few weeks ago at the Sports Pavilion in four sets. You can say dem's da breaks, but ... I'm still disappointed that the team across the border beat us out in a sport where we have had much more success.
But hey, congratulations to Tori Dixon, Senior Middle Blocker for the Gophers, for being named one of the 14 players of the AVCA All-America First Team. Plaudits also go out to Ashley Wittman for making the Second Team and Adrianna Nora for getting an Honorable Mention.
Monday, December 23, 2013
My Fucking Father's Nagging From Across The Pond
Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.
I had to Skype my parents because I had a few questions regarding bills about their properties and credit cards I didn't understand. I had the mistfortune of needing to call them back because there was another association fee statement that came in today's mail, which I did not look through before I Skyped them the first time.
And that is where, out of the blue, My Fucking Father (who barked, "What do you want?" when I got ahold of him the first time I Skyped him this evening -- oh, so you're happy-clappy when I tell you you got your fucking sleeping pills but you're just an asshole whenever I "inconvience" you with a question about money? Is that how this fucking works, asshole?) said that I needed to write down all the deposits and payments I've received since they left. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!
OK, the first dumb thing about this demand is that he told me halfway through their trip, well after I've made a bunch of payments and deposits for them already. But do you know how many accounts and credit cards whose transactions for which I have to (wait ... "have to," I'm so fucking over keeping track of the paperwork) follow already? Do you think I can combine them into one huge ledger containing the comings and goings for all one million of their accounts? Does that make any fucking sense? Oh, and aren't the deposit and withdrawal slips enough for you, or do you think (as I overheard you talking with Mother) this is a "system" I need to follow in order to discipline myself? What a fucking goddamn joke that is, and he is.
The one great thing about being alone in a house is that you get to scream the previous paragraph, as well as some other grievances, into the air without anyone thinking you're a weirdo. After my little rant I decided to open up Mother's Book Of Passwords and jot down the deposits I've made and the checks that have mailed to the house in their name. Sure, some of the desposits have gone to one account in one bank and some to another in another. And if you can look closely at my half-ass list you'll see that some transactions go from my hands to the bank and some from other peoples' hands into my hands. To make an accurate balance, you need to follow only the money coming in and going out of one source, such as my hands or one (and only one) bank account. But hey, what the fuck do I know and what the fuck does My Fucking Father know? I have to keep track of every single transaction I make, and I'll do "the best" that I can. If it makes no goddamn sense, hey, neither does he. I'm just doing what he tells me, wink-wink.
Fucking geez. I have gotten so goddamn depressed that he nagged me from fucking Europe that I eschewed my dinner of a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich and instead tore into one of the three bags of Gardetto's I bought with a coupon. For the record, it's the Deli-Style Mustard one. Intriguing taste, and hopefully one that'll make me forget him and his ludicrous fucking request.
I had to Skype my parents because I had a few questions regarding bills about their properties and credit cards I didn't understand. I had the mistfortune of needing to call them back because there was another association fee statement that came in today's mail, which I did not look through before I Skyped them the first time.
And that is where, out of the blue, My Fucking Father (who barked, "What do you want?" when I got ahold of him the first time I Skyped him this evening -- oh, so you're happy-clappy when I tell you you got your fucking sleeping pills but you're just an asshole whenever I "inconvience" you with a question about money? Is that how this fucking works, asshole?) said that I needed to write down all the deposits and payments I've received since they left. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!
OK, the first dumb thing about this demand is that he told me halfway through their trip, well after I've made a bunch of payments and deposits for them already. But do you know how many accounts and credit cards whose transactions for which I have to (wait ... "have to," I'm so fucking over keeping track of the paperwork) follow already? Do you think I can combine them into one huge ledger containing the comings and goings for all one million of their accounts? Does that make any fucking sense? Oh, and aren't the deposit and withdrawal slips enough for you, or do you think (as I overheard you talking with Mother) this is a "system" I need to follow in order to discipline myself? What a fucking goddamn joke that is, and he is.
The one great thing about being alone in a house is that you get to scream the previous paragraph, as well as some other grievances, into the air without anyone thinking you're a weirdo. After my little rant I decided to open up Mother's Book Of Passwords and jot down the deposits I've made and the checks that have mailed to the house in their name. Sure, some of the desposits have gone to one account in one bank and some to another in another. And if you can look closely at my half-ass list you'll see that some transactions go from my hands to the bank and some from other peoples' hands into my hands. To make an accurate balance, you need to follow only the money coming in and going out of one source, such as my hands or one (and only one) bank account. But hey, what the fuck do I know and what the fuck does My Fucking Father know? I have to keep track of every single transaction I make, and I'll do "the best" that I can. If it makes no goddamn sense, hey, neither does he. I'm just doing what he tells me, wink-wink.
Fucking geez. I have gotten so goddamn depressed that he nagged me from fucking Europe that I eschewed my dinner of a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich and instead tore into one of the three bags of Gardetto's I bought with a coupon. For the record, it's the Deli-Style Mustard one. Intriguing taste, and hopefully one that'll make me forget him and his ludicrous fucking request.
Shortest Day Of The Year, Halfway Through My Vacation At Home Alone
This weekend, apparently, was a crossroads. (ETA: My mistake -- no apparently; last weekend [I'm putting this edit in the early morning of December 28] definitely was a crossroads.)
Saturday was the Winter Solstice, aka The Shortest Day Of The Year. From here on out the days are going to get longer and, supposedly, brighter. In some ways I don't think the Summer Solstice can come soon enough, with all the fucking snow I've had to clear. On the other hand, there is a romance to the season. Winter in many ways sucks, but the weather also is a sign of things turning down energy-wise. Not just the holiday season, a time for (theoretically at least) family and friends, but just also for life and for yourself. Things slow down, and for me, it slows down to a much more manageable level. The Shortest Day Of The Year, one in which there is (theoretically at least) the fewest amount of sunlight, means (theoretically at least) the fewest number of minutes where I'm expected to do something, and doing nothing to me is bliss. But from here on out we rev up our internal engines because there's a whole lot of daylight, and stuff we can do outside and stuff we can do, period.
I keep thinking about my temp job at the State Fair this past summer, where it was totally hot, obscenely hot, dangerously hot. As much as I enjoy the changing of seasons here in Minnesota, I did not, and do not, like that. But with the Winter Solsitce now behind us, we're hurtling towards days like that. The cold's bad, but the heat's fucking worse because you can put layers on, but you can't tear off your skin to cool yourself off.
---
In the meantime, if my calculations are correct, Sunday marked the halfway point of my parents' vacation in Europe. The days where I have the run of the house to look forward to are now outnumbered by the days I had said run. And unfortunately, this makes me jumpy.
For one thing, I don't think I can make any huge plans anymore. Despite me having, oh, less than four weeks left, I don't believe I can, for example, break out all the Entertainment Weeklys I have stashed in my closet and seal them all up. It's a daunting task, one that will take weeks. And yes, I have that, but not enough, you know?
I have loved not hearing the sounds of my parents' voices at home, and doing whatever the fuck I want. I've got everything strewn all over the floors -- clothing, papers, magazines, my cum towel -- and I don't give a fuck. That's freedom. But crossing the halfway point means that I have to look forward to spending a few hours picking all that shit up, and then cleaning the house -- or, well, at least to a point where it's presentable. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding, I don't give a shit about cleaning the house. I'll just leave it dirty because I'd rather take the verbal abuse from My Fucking Father.
What I haven't really had is downtime. Really, I haven't. I can do things at my own pace in my own way now that I'm alone. But really, I've had committments that take up most of my time anyway. Work is one thing. Blessed that I am to work, sometimes I wish I could just call in sick and spend an afternoon doing nothing, just because.
The other major time committment I've had, I'm afraid, is shoveling snow. After we got socked a couple weeks after my parents left, we've been getting these clippers, about one to two inches of the fluffy, dandruff-type snow. But they've come about every three to five days, so I've spent a lot of time clearing the driveway and the deck. That takes a couple hours, which frequently means an evening after I get home from work is shot.
So too was Sunday. I decided to take advantage of what I think was the end to a surprise flurry this morning and afternoon to shovel. But just as I was about to get done with the driveway, it started snowing again. And then I saw on the news that there's going to be snow (a light amount of the light kind of snow) tonight ... and then Tuesday night. That means more shoveling -- as well as, I keep forgetting, walking outside every morning and continually being shocked and angered that I have to take a few minutes to clear my car of the snow that's built up on it overnight. Ever since the snow began this winter I have been consistently late because I don't get up early enough to warm up the car, clear the car of snow, and build in the extra time it takes to get to work. Maybe I don't get up early because I already wake up too early, or it's too cold, or I'm just doing it on basic lazy and stubborn principle, but I'm just not going to do it.
See, if there was less snow, I could devote that time to doing other things, like writing or catching up on alumni stuff, or, more importantly, sleep and resting in my bed -- which is what I finally did tonight. Alone. With the sound of the TV cranked up as much as I goddamn well pleased. And then I remember that, pretty soon, they'll be home, and I won't be as free, and I won't be as happy.
Saturday was the Winter Solstice, aka The Shortest Day Of The Year. From here on out the days are going to get longer and, supposedly, brighter. In some ways I don't think the Summer Solstice can come soon enough, with all the fucking snow I've had to clear. On the other hand, there is a romance to the season. Winter in many ways sucks, but the weather also is a sign of things turning down energy-wise. Not just the holiday season, a time for (theoretically at least) family and friends, but just also for life and for yourself. Things slow down, and for me, it slows down to a much more manageable level. The Shortest Day Of The Year, one in which there is (theoretically at least) the fewest amount of sunlight, means (theoretically at least) the fewest number of minutes where I'm expected to do something, and doing nothing to me is bliss. But from here on out we rev up our internal engines because there's a whole lot of daylight, and stuff we can do outside and stuff we can do, period.
I keep thinking about my temp job at the State Fair this past summer, where it was totally hot, obscenely hot, dangerously hot. As much as I enjoy the changing of seasons here in Minnesota, I did not, and do not, like that. But with the Winter Solsitce now behind us, we're hurtling towards days like that. The cold's bad, but the heat's fucking worse because you can put layers on, but you can't tear off your skin to cool yourself off.
---
In the meantime, if my calculations are correct, Sunday marked the halfway point of my parents' vacation in Europe. The days where I have the run of the house to look forward to are now outnumbered by the days I had said run. And unfortunately, this makes me jumpy.
For one thing, I don't think I can make any huge plans anymore. Despite me having, oh, less than four weeks left, I don't believe I can, for example, break out all the Entertainment Weeklys I have stashed in my closet and seal them all up. It's a daunting task, one that will take weeks. And yes, I have that, but not enough, you know?
I have loved not hearing the sounds of my parents' voices at home, and doing whatever the fuck I want. I've got everything strewn all over the floors -- clothing, papers, magazines, my cum towel -- and I don't give a fuck. That's freedom. But crossing the halfway point means that I have to look forward to spending a few hours picking all that shit up, and then cleaning the house -- or, well, at least to a point where it's presentable. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding, I don't give a shit about cleaning the house. I'll just leave it dirty because I'd rather take the verbal abuse from My Fucking Father.
What I haven't really had is downtime. Really, I haven't. I can do things at my own pace in my own way now that I'm alone. But really, I've had committments that take up most of my time anyway. Work is one thing. Blessed that I am to work, sometimes I wish I could just call in sick and spend an afternoon doing nothing, just because.
The other major time committment I've had, I'm afraid, is shoveling snow. After we got socked a couple weeks after my parents left, we've been getting these clippers, about one to two inches of the fluffy, dandruff-type snow. But they've come about every three to five days, so I've spent a lot of time clearing the driveway and the deck. That takes a couple hours, which frequently means an evening after I get home from work is shot.
So too was Sunday. I decided to take advantage of what I think was the end to a surprise flurry this morning and afternoon to shovel. But just as I was about to get done with the driveway, it started snowing again. And then I saw on the news that there's going to be snow (a light amount of the light kind of snow) tonight ... and then Tuesday night. That means more shoveling -- as well as, I keep forgetting, walking outside every morning and continually being shocked and angered that I have to take a few minutes to clear my car of the snow that's built up on it overnight. Ever since the snow began this winter I have been consistently late because I don't get up early enough to warm up the car, clear the car of snow, and build in the extra time it takes to get to work. Maybe I don't get up early because I already wake up too early, or it's too cold, or I'm just doing it on basic lazy and stubborn principle, but I'm just not going to do it.
See, if there was less snow, I could devote that time to doing other things, like writing or catching up on alumni stuff, or, more importantly, sleep and resting in my bed -- which is what I finally did tonight. Alone. With the sound of the TV cranked up as much as I goddamn well pleased. And then I remember that, pretty soon, they'll be home, and I won't be as free, and I won't be as happy.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
NFL Anti-Picks, Week 16
Record, Week 15: 0-4-1
Overall Record: 41-53-1
Total Outlay, Week 15: $350.00
Total Winnings, Week 15: $100.00
Loss, Week 15: $250.00
Overall Loss: $797.35
Wow, just ... wow. After having a very good week, I followed that up with a very bad week. Goddamn, I was wrong about every one of them. I was wrong about New England covering against Miami, I was wrong about Tampa Bay holding its own at home against San Francisco, I was so, so fucking wrong about the Giants being able to keep up against visiting Seattle ... and I was almost wrong about Carolina, but at least they wound up ten points better than the Jets, so I at least got some money back from that "bet." My decision to take it easy last week after a huge payday the week before turned out to be the smart one. However I'm still back in a pretty deep hole.
---
I've got my parents Skyping and I have to get groceries before settling in for a big yet quiet day of football, so I should make this quick. Maybe not thinking about this at all is the strategy I should have been using all along:
1) Carolina -3 1/2 (I see some new holes with the New Orleans Saints. They looked awful in St. Louis last week, and they play a revenge game in Charlotte against a team that got sucker-punched by them two weeks ago. This could be a bad day for the Saints, so Best Bet this) $100
2) St. Louis -3 1/2 (Could we be something close to pride when it comes to the Rams? I did not expect them to thump the Saints at all last week, but they did. They now have a second straight home game, this time against a Tampa Bay club that seemed to have righted the ship under Greg Schiano but now, eh, I don't know. It's a small way to pick up some money, but I'll take The Bastard Cleveland By Way Of Los Angeles Rams) $50
3) Detroit -8 1/2 (Host the Giants in a meeting of rapidly diverging motivations: The Lions are fighting for the NFC North, New York just got shut out at home by Seattle and are banged up. Lions fans are very fatalistic about this, thinking that this is a perfect situation in which they will lose and eliminate themselves from playoff contention. But I'm going to go out on a limb here, and in fact I'll Best Bet the favorites to cover) $100
4) Oakland-San Diego Over 51 (I had three other games in which I wanted to bet the line, including this one, but the aggregating online oddsmakers were precisely split as to which number the spread's going to be. In situations like that, I just don't bet. But I want to be on something, and so I'm going to settle on the Over for this game. I have a feeling that the Raiders could spring an upset on the Chargers, who [at least this week] are as snakebitten as Lions fans think the Lions always are. San Diego's on the cusp of the playoff race, and to me, that seems like a perfect scenario in which to blow a prime win at home against a team that has nothing to play for, yet might be playing to keep Dennis Allen as their Head Coach. That's all I got, but it's enough) $50
5) I need more action, so what the hell: Parlay 1) with 3), for $100.
Good luck!
Overall Record: 41-53-1
Total Outlay, Week 15: $350.00
Total Winnings, Week 15: $100.00
Loss, Week 15: $250.00
Overall Loss: $797.35
Wow, just ... wow. After having a very good week, I followed that up with a very bad week. Goddamn, I was wrong about every one of them. I was wrong about New England covering against Miami, I was wrong about Tampa Bay holding its own at home against San Francisco, I was so, so fucking wrong about the Giants being able to keep up against visiting Seattle ... and I was almost wrong about Carolina, but at least they wound up ten points better than the Jets, so I at least got some money back from that "bet." My decision to take it easy last week after a huge payday the week before turned out to be the smart one. However I'm still back in a pretty deep hole.
---
I've got my parents Skyping and I have to get groceries before settling in for a big yet quiet day of football, so I should make this quick. Maybe not thinking about this at all is the strategy I should have been using all along:
1) Carolina -3 1/2 (I see some new holes with the New Orleans Saints. They looked awful in St. Louis last week, and they play a revenge game in Charlotte against a team that got sucker-punched by them two weeks ago. This could be a bad day for the Saints, so Best Bet this) $100
2) St. Louis -3 1/2 (Could we be something close to pride when it comes to the Rams? I did not expect them to thump the Saints at all last week, but they did. They now have a second straight home game, this time against a Tampa Bay club that seemed to have righted the ship under Greg Schiano but now, eh, I don't know. It's a small way to pick up some money, but I'll take The Bastard Cleveland By Way Of Los Angeles Rams) $50
3) Detroit -8 1/2 (Host the Giants in a meeting of rapidly diverging motivations: The Lions are fighting for the NFC North, New York just got shut out at home by Seattle and are banged up. Lions fans are very fatalistic about this, thinking that this is a perfect situation in which they will lose and eliminate themselves from playoff contention. But I'm going to go out on a limb here, and in fact I'll Best Bet the favorites to cover) $100
4) Oakland-San Diego Over 51 (I had three other games in which I wanted to bet the line, including this one, but the aggregating online oddsmakers were precisely split as to which number the spread's going to be. In situations like that, I just don't bet. But I want to be on something, and so I'm going to settle on the Over for this game. I have a feeling that the Raiders could spring an upset on the Chargers, who [at least this week] are as snakebitten as Lions fans think the Lions always are. San Diego's on the cusp of the playoff race, and to me, that seems like a perfect scenario in which to blow a prime win at home against a team that has nothing to play for, yet might be playing to keep Dennis Allen as their Head Coach. That's all I got, but it's enough) $50
5) I need more action, so what the hell: Parlay 1) with 3), for $100.
Good luck!
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Father's Computer Buggin'
Goddammit! I tried blogging on My Father's desktop and I can't. I can type in the subject line, but when I try to write in the body (the area where I'm typing now), nothing moves.
My Father's desktop contracted a virus from some fucking Chinese website he saw, and he got my brother to fix it. Apparently his way of fixing it was to remove everything, bust the OS down to Windows XP and install only the very necessary programs. That makes things less complicated from My Father, but it looks like he also got a slower and possibly shitter computer. If so, I blame its inability to allow me to type on that.
The thing that really gets me, though, is that ever since he got it back, My Fucking Father insists that his desk is faster and better. And he sounds like he really means it, too. What dumb bullshit. Man, I can't wait to get my computer back.
My Father's desktop contracted a virus from some fucking Chinese website he saw, and he got my brother to fix it. Apparently his way of fixing it was to remove everything, bust the OS down to Windows XP and install only the very necessary programs. That makes things less complicated from My Father, but it looks like he also got a slower and possibly shitter computer. If so, I blame its inability to allow me to type on that.
The thing that really gets me, though, is that ever since he got it back, My Fucking Father insists that his desk is faster and better. And he sounds like he really means it, too. What dumb bullshit. Man, I can't wait to get my computer back.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Laptop's In The "Hospital"
Finally bit the bullet. Since my parents are away, thus freeing up their computer for my use whenever I want, I brought my computer into the Mall of American so they can look into the litany of problems plaguing it. The guy warned me that his experience tells him the motherboard is shot, which means I need to get a new laptop (and I should forget about upgrading to Windows 7), but I think if he makes that determination I pay nothing, so there's that.
Feels kind of awkward going without my lap, but now's as good a time as any to part with it temporarily. I need to know if I will need to part with it permanently.
Feels kind of awkward going without my lap, but now's as good a time as any to part with it temporarily. I need to know if I will need to part with it permanently.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
May I Blow Off Some Steam?
Oh, I see that the "time bomb" blog post works.
So hey, while being as vague as possible, can I just say that if you wanted me to buy four tickets total, why didn't you just say "buy four tickets total?" Saying "three (+you)" means ... well, I guess that means four, but at the time I thought that meant "that's three including you." Besides, there were only three of us last year.
(sigh)
So hey, while being as vague as possible, can I just say that if you wanted me to buy four tickets total, why didn't you just say "buy four tickets total?" Saying "three (+you)" means ... well, I guess that means four, but at the time I thought that meant "that's three including you." Besides, there were only three of us last year.
(sigh)
Need To Try This Post Scheduling
I am writing this a bit after 12:30 in the morning, but Blogger has this feature where you can set a time in the future to automatically publish something you're writing but don't want to release yet. I don't know if there are any practically uses for it, but I have a personal one: Keeping up my promise to write on Wailing And Failing at least once a day.
Guys, working so early in the morning and feeling so wiped out at the end of the day, mixed in with other things I need to do, makes it increasingly difficult to find the time to write something daily. So I'm experimenting with ... fudging a little bit. If I find the time to write something at, say, a couple hours before midnight, and I know that I will be so busy that there's very little chance I can write something tomorrow, and I already have published something today, why don't I just whip up something now and store for a predetermined release time the next day? I get to keep my promise while having time to do the other things I need to do.
Is it circumventing the write-every-day ethos I had in mind when I started WAF? Yes. So ... I might feel guilty later, guilty to the point of actually dropping everything else and writing something later today. But at the very least I want to try this "time bomb" blog post, just to see if it works.
Guys, working so early in the morning and feeling so wiped out at the end of the day, mixed in with other things I need to do, makes it increasingly difficult to find the time to write something daily. So I'm experimenting with ... fudging a little bit. If I find the time to write something at, say, a couple hours before midnight, and I know that I will be so busy that there's very little chance I can write something tomorrow, and I already have published something today, why don't I just whip up something now and store for a predetermined release time the next day? I get to keep my promise while having time to do the other things I need to do.
Is it circumventing the write-every-day ethos I had in mind when I started WAF? Yes. So ... I might feel guilty later, guilty to the point of actually dropping everything else and writing something later today. But at the very least I want to try this "time bomb" blog post, just to see if it works.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Oh Yeah, About The Game And The Assholes ...
They actually were quite nice to me. Then again, I learned my lesson in trying to buddy up to them and I decided to spend most of my time outside. It wasn't as cold as it is now. In fact, even though I don't remember the exact temperatures, this was before that first snowstorm and the ensuing deep freeze came in, so it felt quite nice to stand outside and watch over the food. What helped was something I had never experienced before: The fans of one of the production trucks blowing out very seasonal air. It felt very nice to just stand in front of those fans and feel snug, even warm.
I kept my contact with them to a minimum, both days. It helped that, like the time before, I was sent all over the metro area to get stuff. The few times I went into the truck I only spoke -- I only locked eyes on -- one guy, the man who hired me. He was cool, but just to make sure, I also didn't do my chit-chatting with him. Hope he didn't take offense.
The only time I spoke with them was on Sunday -- one because I had to, one because of, um, circumstances I guess. One of them -- who seemed preoccupied, like his mind was on something else, evidenced by a phone call he took with, for lack of better description, a lot of intensity -- asked me to get some drinks down to the cameramen on the field. The other controls the sign-in sheet, and so I had to speak to him, if even for a few seconds ... which is just about the time it took to sign my name on that sheet.
However, for once this guy was ... professional towards me. I was told to talk to him, so I forthrightly looked me in the eye and announced myself. He told me I needed to sign in, he handed me the sign-in sheet ... and he then gave me a pen. Gently. Nicely. Maybe he remembered how he was a dick to me when I asked to borrow his pen. So I said thank you when I handed both items back to him. Then I bumped fists with the guy who hired me, and off I went to my assignment for the game, running in the broadcast booth -- way the hell away from the truck. That could have been by design, and if that was the case, well, I have to admit it was a smart move.
OK, that was ... a vast improvement from last time. Still going to stay away from them next time they come into town to work, just in case.
---
You know what else helped? There was a second runner helping out that weekend. And this guy wasn't even from the area. He's associated with games in the Atlanta area, and he was in town because he has a friend ... in Iowa. I kind of think that the guy who hired me also hired him either because 1) he really wanted to use his largess and get a second runner for all the stuff he believes the crew will want, or 2) he thought I was incompetent the last time and he wanted someone smarter/better.
And I have to admit: This guy is smarter and better. Totally cool with me from the start. And a few hours before the start of the game on Sunday, at least an hour before I usually do it, he wanted to hang up the banners. I would have ran from the Dome in order not to do it, but he exuded so much confidence from the times I spoke to him the day before that I felt good trusting him. Hell, this was the first time he was in the Metrodome and I was following his lead.
My issue with the banners are two-fold: Where to hang them up and how to secure them. Like a grizzled veteran, he took a few seconds from the other end of the field to size up the best place to put up the network banners so they were conspicuous while avoiding any advertisements. Also, he brought rope with him. Let me repeat: He brought rope with him. He didn't ask this from the crew; he's helped out in games for so long that he knows that rope comes in handy for jobs like this. And it did; he had enough rope that we could hang up the banners and be able to secure them to something feet away. We couldn't do that without rope. Oh, and afterwards he showed me how to do a trucker's knot. He's like a fucking MacGuyver.
One other thing: He's in the middle of fighting brain cancer. He was so fit that you would never have even suspected he was sick. God Bless him, I hope the experimental treatment works.
---
As much as he helped, there was one other godsend. In some places on the plastic tarp hanging over the front row seats at both ends of the Metrodome field are some rectangular swatches of velcro. I never noticed them beyond the fact that they probably were placed there by someone else who has a dedicated spot to put their banners. But the guy I was with said that at this particular side of the field, the area where these velcro strips were permanently stuck to was the perfect place for our banners to hang.
Enter some guy, who may have been part of our crew or was with some other media entity and was setting up for them. He noticed us and asked, "Do you need some velcro strips?"
Velcro strips? Is that a thing? Yes, it's a thing -- and that also changes everything!!! These little strips have a backing you can peel off and stick to the other side of our banners. All we need to do is find the right place on the back of our banners, line that up with the permanent velcro hanging on the front row seats, and it's secure! And this guy just gave us several of them for our banners! Damn, where were these things when I was bitching and moaning about the banners the last time I had to hang them up?! God bless this blue collar stranger for introducing me to a tool that turned banner-hanging from a burden to a breeze!
---
Yesterday I finally got the check for this weekend I'm talking about. The time before, when these people put me through hell, I got a check that just about matches what I make as a flu biller for the entire week. But this time around it was smaller -- a lot smaller. Like, two-thirds smaller.
What the fuck? I thought he was cool, dude! Did he just shovel me a shitload of money the game before because he saw me being bullied and disrespected, and he decided his co-workers were behaving OK so I'm back to being paid what I just got paid? Or is there another reason, one that totally eludes me? Or did he forget? Or does he not care?
I just don't understand how the work I put in both times I've worked for him this year, responsibilities that essentially are equal, were paid vastly different amounts. I don't understand why I can't get the same paycheck if I'm doing the same thing for games. Hell, if I'm just a stats person for the game day, I'm fine, so long as it's consistent. Now I'm expecting a $300 check when I get one for $100 instead, even though I worked two days both times and did a lot in each day both times.
Is he just fucking with me?
---
Oh, I should add this too: His "rock star" statistician was working again and doing stats again. When this crew comes around, it looks like he's on stats from now on. I used to be on stats until ... I don't know what happened.
He worked last week's Vikings game, too -- and he brought a couple tagalong friends with him. They seem to be great, just great. But while I was walking back to the production bay after breakfast, I saw all three of them huddled around a table looking at a notepad. This is the statisticians meeting we usually have before each game, divvying out who tabulates what. They were getting into splitting up the duties while I was just hanging out before I eventually had to ask him, "Mind if I play?"
He's always been cordial with me. But with the way he took over the meeting on Sunday (albeit with his friends whom he helped to get hired with this network), it's apparent that he sees himself as the heir apparent to day player statistician. Which means I'm permanently sidelined.
I kept my contact with them to a minimum, both days. It helped that, like the time before, I was sent all over the metro area to get stuff. The few times I went into the truck I only spoke -- I only locked eyes on -- one guy, the man who hired me. He was cool, but just to make sure, I also didn't do my chit-chatting with him. Hope he didn't take offense.
The only time I spoke with them was on Sunday -- one because I had to, one because of, um, circumstances I guess. One of them -- who seemed preoccupied, like his mind was on something else, evidenced by a phone call he took with, for lack of better description, a lot of intensity -- asked me to get some drinks down to the cameramen on the field. The other controls the sign-in sheet, and so I had to speak to him, if even for a few seconds ... which is just about the time it took to sign my name on that sheet.
However, for once this guy was ... professional towards me. I was told to talk to him, so I forthrightly looked me in the eye and announced myself. He told me I needed to sign in, he handed me the sign-in sheet ... and he then gave me a pen. Gently. Nicely. Maybe he remembered how he was a dick to me when I asked to borrow his pen. So I said thank you when I handed both items back to him. Then I bumped fists with the guy who hired me, and off I went to my assignment for the game, running in the broadcast booth -- way the hell away from the truck. That could have been by design, and if that was the case, well, I have to admit it was a smart move.
OK, that was ... a vast improvement from last time. Still going to stay away from them next time they come into town to work, just in case.
---
You know what else helped? There was a second runner helping out that weekend. And this guy wasn't even from the area. He's associated with games in the Atlanta area, and he was in town because he has a friend ... in Iowa. I kind of think that the guy who hired me also hired him either because 1) he really wanted to use his largess and get a second runner for all the stuff he believes the crew will want, or 2) he thought I was incompetent the last time and he wanted someone smarter/better.
And I have to admit: This guy is smarter and better. Totally cool with me from the start. And a few hours before the start of the game on Sunday, at least an hour before I usually do it, he wanted to hang up the banners. I would have ran from the Dome in order not to do it, but he exuded so much confidence from the times I spoke to him the day before that I felt good trusting him. Hell, this was the first time he was in the Metrodome and I was following his lead.
My issue with the banners are two-fold: Where to hang them up and how to secure them. Like a grizzled veteran, he took a few seconds from the other end of the field to size up the best place to put up the network banners so they were conspicuous while avoiding any advertisements. Also, he brought rope with him. Let me repeat: He brought rope with him. He didn't ask this from the crew; he's helped out in games for so long that he knows that rope comes in handy for jobs like this. And it did; he had enough rope that we could hang up the banners and be able to secure them to something feet away. We couldn't do that without rope. Oh, and afterwards he showed me how to do a trucker's knot. He's like a fucking MacGuyver.
One other thing: He's in the middle of fighting brain cancer. He was so fit that you would never have even suspected he was sick. God Bless him, I hope the experimental treatment works.
---
As much as he helped, there was one other godsend. In some places on the plastic tarp hanging over the front row seats at both ends of the Metrodome field are some rectangular swatches of velcro. I never noticed them beyond the fact that they probably were placed there by someone else who has a dedicated spot to put their banners. But the guy I was with said that at this particular side of the field, the area where these velcro strips were permanently stuck to was the perfect place for our banners to hang.
Enter some guy, who may have been part of our crew or was with some other media entity and was setting up for them. He noticed us and asked, "Do you need some velcro strips?"
Velcro strips? Is that a thing? Yes, it's a thing -- and that also changes everything!!! These little strips have a backing you can peel off and stick to the other side of our banners. All we need to do is find the right place on the back of our banners, line that up with the permanent velcro hanging on the front row seats, and it's secure! And this guy just gave us several of them for our banners! Damn, where were these things when I was bitching and moaning about the banners the last time I had to hang them up?! God bless this blue collar stranger for introducing me to a tool that turned banner-hanging from a burden to a breeze!
---
Yesterday I finally got the check for this weekend I'm talking about. The time before, when these people put me through hell, I got a check that just about matches what I make as a flu biller for the entire week. But this time around it was smaller -- a lot smaller. Like, two-thirds smaller.
What the fuck? I thought he was cool, dude! Did he just shovel me a shitload of money the game before because he saw me being bullied and disrespected, and he decided his co-workers were behaving OK so I'm back to being paid what I just got paid? Or is there another reason, one that totally eludes me? Or did he forget? Or does he not care?
I just don't understand how the work I put in both times I've worked for him this year, responsibilities that essentially are equal, were paid vastly different amounts. I don't understand why I can't get the same paycheck if I'm doing the same thing for games. Hell, if I'm just a stats person for the game day, I'm fine, so long as it's consistent. Now I'm expecting a $300 check when I get one for $100 instead, even though I worked two days both times and did a lot in each day both times.
Is he just fucking with me?
---
Oh, I should add this too: His "rock star" statistician was working again and doing stats again. When this crew comes around, it looks like he's on stats from now on. I used to be on stats until ... I don't know what happened.
He worked last week's Vikings game, too -- and he brought a couple tagalong friends with him. They seem to be great, just great. But while I was walking back to the production bay after breakfast, I saw all three of them huddled around a table looking at a notepad. This is the statisticians meeting we usually have before each game, divvying out who tabulates what. They were getting into splitting up the duties while I was just hanging out before I eventually had to ask him, "Mind if I play?"
He's always been cordial with me. But with the way he took over the meeting on Sunday (albeit with his friends whom he helped to get hired with this network), it's apparent that he sees himself as the heir apparent to day player statistician. Which means I'm permanently sidelined.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Addendum To: Mystery Meat
Well, I finally got enough courage to confront the mystery meat I blogged about last week, and I decided to warm it up and try to eat it Thursday night, the evening after I blogged about it. And since I'm alive to tell the tale here, it was not spoiled/poisonous. In fact it was quite tasty ... for meat that was in the refrigerator for longer than recommended. Turns out what they were were one piece of pork and two pieces of bone-adjacent beef, both of them leftovers from dinners my parents made way, way back. I'm glad I didn't warm up, say, tofu or some crap like that.
So I guess that means that no matter how long something's been in the fridge, I can still eat it. Good to know.
So I guess that means that no matter how long something's been in the fridge, I can still eat it. Good to know.
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
(First of all, I have to note that last week's Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey sported eight teams. This week's only has five. God I love that. I don't have to slave over this entry for hours. It's like the summer, where all I have to write about are the Twins. I'll have to enjoy this one-week respite, however, because next week's WMNSS will be larger than five.)
#-1: Vikings (Last Week: -7). Finally I have an excuse to put this excuse of a professional football team on top of the WMNSS. Have they been on top ever this year? Seeing as they would have had only three other chances, I'm going to say no.
They get the top spot because this is the ViQueens' first win of the season where they didn't have to hold their breath through the end of the game. Moreover, this easy-breezy 48-30 win came against the Philadelphia Eagles, a team that had the longest active winning streak in the National Football League (the Vikes broke their five-game winning streak) and is in the middle of a war of attrition with the Dallas Cowboys to win the National Football Conference East Division and what will definitely be that division's only playoff berth. The Iggles are a pretty good team (though not the offensive juggernaut some people speculated because of rookie Head Coach Chip Kelly, who pioneered the read option at Oregon), and many people rightly thought they would win.
But then again this is the NFL, and although I wouldn't have bet any money on it, I really thought the Purple had more than a fighting chance to win, if only just because. Turns out they were the offensive juggernaut, led with a more than professional performance by, of all people, Matt Cassel. Which raises a dilemma: Would you put in a journeyman Quarterback whose prime years are behind him as the starter for a team that is still in need of a serious overhaul in personnel?
One other thing: Matt Asiata did something Adrian Peterson has never done: Score three touchdowns in a game. Good to see for a third-stringer filling in after Peterson and Toby Gerhardt had to sit out the game due to injuries. I am surprised, however, that no broadcast I heard mentioned that almost two months ago Asiata lost his father, who was killed when the coach bus he was driving rammed into the back of a construction vehicle. I hope his father is proud of him.
Meanwhile, I am kind of bummed I didn't pick him up to replace Peterson in my lineup. I had no thought he would be able to score three TDs. As I write this I am about to lose my fantasy league semifinal. I came into Monday a little more than three points behind. My opponent and I have one Detroit Lion playing in the Monday night game -- he has Calvin Johnson, I have Joique Bell. I could have sewn up a spot in our title game if I just picked up Asiata. Damn.
The only downside to winning is that the Vikings fell in the draft order from fourth to eighth. They might have played themselves out of being to select one of the best QBs in the draft. Then again, they might already have the QB that they need. Their penultimate game is this Sunday afternoon at Cincinnati.
#-2: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -1). Pasted cupcake South Dakota St. (well, they are a cupcake now that Nate Wolters has graduated) at Williams Arena last Tuesday 75-59. Not as impressive as the Vikings beating the Eagles, that's for sure. Austin Hollins crossed 1,000 points in that victory and was named Big Ten Conference Player Of The Week. That's all I've got. They cross the middle of their seven-game homestand Friday against Nebraska-Omaha.
#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). Hmmm ... I thought a couple weeks ago that they hit a rut. But they haven't gotten out of that rut since, and now I'm scared that this team trading wins and losses just about in equal measure is its true nature. They had a busy week, going 3-2. Four of those games were on the road, winning at Detroit and, more impressively, Memphis, but losing in San Antonio and, on Monday night, Boston. (The Woofie Dogs' only home game was a 106-99 win over Philadelphia.)
This team was once riding home in the Western Conference. But now, if the season ended today, they would be as out of the postseason as they have been the past decade. Thing is, the conferences are so unbalanced that the Woofs would not only be in the Eastern Conference playoffs, but be ranked fourth. This week they host Portland before doing yet another two-game stand at Staples against the Lakers and Clippers.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -5). Odd how both winter leagues, the NBA and the NHL, are dominated by the Western Conference -- tilted as a fat kid and a toddler on a see-saw. Like the Timberwolves, if the Mild were in the Eastern Conference, they would be tied for third. Alas, they are not, and therefore stand with the eighth and final playoff spot in the West, by virtue of a 1-2 screening week -- and they had to rally to tie and eventually beat Colorado in a shootout Saturday lest they go winless for the week. They had a tough trio to play on the road, and while they only lost 2-1 in Anaheim, losing 3-1 to San Jose in a game where they weren't even that competitive is worrisome. Maybe Mikael Granlund coming back from injury will help things. This week they start with a single home game (against Vancouver tonight [Tuesday night]) that is sandwiched by a pair of three-game road trips. The "heel" of this sandwich finishes out the rest of the week, and is out east: Pittsburgh, the Rangers, and Philadelphia.
#-Infinity: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -2). As I continue to say, there is no other school I can think of where being a consistent Sweet 16 team is virtually assured while knowing that there is absolutely no chance it can ever win a championship. So it goes for the moderately successful and popular Minnesota volleyball program. That five-set struggle against Colorado was an omen; they were swept in Friday's regional semifinal against Stanford, even though the sets were close, 26-23-22. With that they say goodbye to Alexandra Palmer, Ashley Wittman and Tori Dixon, three players who led this team to ... another Sweet 16. I don't mean to demean them; without this trio of very good athletes the U. would not be where they are right now, which is the envy of a lot of colleges without good volleyball programs. Still, if this is the best these ladies can do, maybe Head Coach Hugh McCutcheon's slow turnover to recruits outside of the state of Minnesota may be something to tolerate, if not embrace. I want to fucking see this team win an NCAA title some goddamn day before I die, is what I'm saying.
#-1: Vikings (Last Week: -7). Finally I have an excuse to put this excuse of a professional football team on top of the WMNSS. Have they been on top ever this year? Seeing as they would have had only three other chances, I'm going to say no.
They get the top spot because this is the ViQueens' first win of the season where they didn't have to hold their breath through the end of the game. Moreover, this easy-breezy 48-30 win came against the Philadelphia Eagles, a team that had the longest active winning streak in the National Football League (the Vikes broke their five-game winning streak) and is in the middle of a war of attrition with the Dallas Cowboys to win the National Football Conference East Division and what will definitely be that division's only playoff berth. The Iggles are a pretty good team (though not the offensive juggernaut some people speculated because of rookie Head Coach Chip Kelly, who pioneered the read option at Oregon), and many people rightly thought they would win.
But then again this is the NFL, and although I wouldn't have bet any money on it, I really thought the Purple had more than a fighting chance to win, if only just because. Turns out they were the offensive juggernaut, led with a more than professional performance by, of all people, Matt Cassel. Which raises a dilemma: Would you put in a journeyman Quarterback whose prime years are behind him as the starter for a team that is still in need of a serious overhaul in personnel?
One other thing: Matt Asiata did something Adrian Peterson has never done: Score three touchdowns in a game. Good to see for a third-stringer filling in after Peterson and Toby Gerhardt had to sit out the game due to injuries. I am surprised, however, that no broadcast I heard mentioned that almost two months ago Asiata lost his father, who was killed when the coach bus he was driving rammed into the back of a construction vehicle. I hope his father is proud of him.
Meanwhile, I am kind of bummed I didn't pick him up to replace Peterson in my lineup. I had no thought he would be able to score three TDs. As I write this I am about to lose my fantasy league semifinal. I came into Monday a little more than three points behind. My opponent and I have one Detroit Lion playing in the Monday night game -- he has Calvin Johnson, I have Joique Bell. I could have sewn up a spot in our title game if I just picked up Asiata. Damn.
The only downside to winning is that the Vikings fell in the draft order from fourth to eighth. They might have played themselves out of being to select one of the best QBs in the draft. Then again, they might already have the QB that they need. Their penultimate game is this Sunday afternoon at Cincinnati.
#-2: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -1). Pasted cupcake South Dakota St. (well, they are a cupcake now that Nate Wolters has graduated) at Williams Arena last Tuesday 75-59. Not as impressive as the Vikings beating the Eagles, that's for sure. Austin Hollins crossed 1,000 points in that victory and was named Big Ten Conference Player Of The Week. That's all I've got. They cross the middle of their seven-game homestand Friday against Nebraska-Omaha.
#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). Hmmm ... I thought a couple weeks ago that they hit a rut. But they haven't gotten out of that rut since, and now I'm scared that this team trading wins and losses just about in equal measure is its true nature. They had a busy week, going 3-2. Four of those games were on the road, winning at Detroit and, more impressively, Memphis, but losing in San Antonio and, on Monday night, Boston. (The Woofie Dogs' only home game was a 106-99 win over Philadelphia.)
This team was once riding home in the Western Conference. But now, if the season ended today, they would be as out of the postseason as they have been the past decade. Thing is, the conferences are so unbalanced that the Woofs would not only be in the Eastern Conference playoffs, but be ranked fourth. This week they host Portland before doing yet another two-game stand at Staples against the Lakers and Clippers.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -5). Odd how both winter leagues, the NBA and the NHL, are dominated by the Western Conference -- tilted as a fat kid and a toddler on a see-saw. Like the Timberwolves, if the Mild were in the Eastern Conference, they would be tied for third. Alas, they are not, and therefore stand with the eighth and final playoff spot in the West, by virtue of a 1-2 screening week -- and they had to rally to tie and eventually beat Colorado in a shootout Saturday lest they go winless for the week. They had a tough trio to play on the road, and while they only lost 2-1 in Anaheim, losing 3-1 to San Jose in a game where they weren't even that competitive is worrisome. Maybe Mikael Granlund coming back from injury will help things. This week they start with a single home game (against Vancouver tonight [Tuesday night]) that is sandwiched by a pair of three-game road trips. The "heel" of this sandwich finishes out the rest of the week, and is out east: Pittsburgh, the Rangers, and Philadelphia.
#-Infinity: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -2). As I continue to say, there is no other school I can think of where being a consistent Sweet 16 team is virtually assured while knowing that there is absolutely no chance it can ever win a championship. So it goes for the moderately successful and popular Minnesota volleyball program. That five-set struggle against Colorado was an omen; they were swept in Friday's regional semifinal against Stanford, even though the sets were close, 26-23-22. With that they say goodbye to Alexandra Palmer, Ashley Wittman and Tori Dixon, three players who led this team to ... another Sweet 16. I don't mean to demean them; without this trio of very good athletes the U. would not be where they are right now, which is the envy of a lot of colleges without good volleyball programs. Still, if this is the best these ladies can do, maybe Head Coach Hugh McCutcheon's slow turnover to recruits outside of the state of Minnesota may be something to tolerate, if not embrace. I want to fucking see this team win an NCAA title some goddamn day before I die, is what I'm saying.
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