OK, so my parents are coming home soon, which means I need to get the house cleaned up before they come back. Of course, I do not clean it. I have my ATF, ***e*, clean it. And then afterward she gives me a handjob. On top of that I haven't had to pay money for her to come over ever since I shelled out a game console for her son. She has been paying me back ever since, diligently, and my fears that she was just going to walk away without paying her debt has largely abated. She is a woman of her word.
Saying that, I have not been able to reach her the past few days. Since I trust her, I sincerely believe that the only reason I haven't heard from her is that there is something serious that she needs to tend to. Normally, though, we would have arranged a day and time by now. And although I have a few days left, if I haven't heard from her by now, I don't think she'll be free to clean my house.
So what are my options now? I don't know, frankly. There are other strippers whose day job is cleaning houses. I think I know one; I might have to ask her. Other than that I've got nothing. I'll try and do the best I can with doing it myself, but I might as well not even try and take my parents' consequences for not cleaning up the house at all, let alone doing a shitty job cleaning it.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 30, 2015
I Don't Remember The Last Time I Saw The Store
To my everlasting shame, I do not know, for sure, the last time I went into The Store.
I did not track every single trip to The Store. I was just too heartbroken to note every single visit because I was afraid I would be documenting my last visit. I figured I needed some time to decompress, and then I would be able to circle back and know for certain the very last day I entered The Store. But, I got busy, and things got in the way, as they always do, and now that I have time to think and realize this is a long time coming, I am scrambling to remember the last day, which was more than 18 months ago.
And sadly, Wailing And Failing is of no help. My day planner is of some help; at least I wrote down the dates I took my parents to the airport and when I needed to pick them up. That meant that those were the days I had to tend to The Store. But within that I have no idea; I didn't write down when I went to The Store in my day planner. And the two weeks' worth of blog posts yielded not one puny mention of The Store, at least one that's of any use of me. I want to yell at myself back in September 2013 for being so sloppy.
So I have to make a guess. They came back on a Monday. The day before I worked the Vikings game. As custom, I go to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) afterward. Also, my day planner said that I went to a house party, and I don't think I would stop at The Store if I were going from tits to tits. Therefore, I don't think I went to The Store on Sunday.
The only thing I did on Saturday was my alma mater's game, which was in the afternoon. Doesn't seem like I had any plans after that viewing. Finally, my parents came home that Monday. Assuming they did actually arrive Monday night, and knowing how I doted after The Store, I think I went in to check on her Saturday after the game, then came back to it just before I went to the airport Monday evening.
Therefore, Monday, September 23, 2013 was the last day I ever set foot in The Store.
Am I sure of that? Not 100%. Obviously it would have helped if I wrote it down the day after I went; it would have helped if I blogged every single visit to The Store as soon as I came home from her, or at least a day or two afterward, when I may still have had some memory of it. But again, with my sadness over being about to lose her, I was not in a mental state to chronicle that. Nonetheless, I am confident those were the last dates I went to The Store.
So what did I do my last time there? Again, my memory is hazy, but knowing what I usually did there didn't change, I first looked up at the ceiling of The Store's main floor to see if there was any further damage to it. From what I blogged about The Last Days Of The Store, the crack that was up on that ceiling for decades expanded, then water started to leak through, then a lot of water made pools of water on The Store floor, then chunks of the ceiling crashed to ground. It got so bad that some time before they left, Father tore off more parts of the ceiling so they wouldn't fall on their own. So I just needed to see what else happened while I was away. My best guess is that there was some tiny pools of water, but the ceiling crashing to the floor alleviated all the stress from the water that apparently seeped in from above.
By the way, all of that water came because the roof had a hole in it. There was a pretty big storm that blew through the area a few years ago, and I guess debris from one part of the roof was blown right down onto the part of the roof over The Store, tearing a hole through it. I think that at that point my parents were thinking about selling The Store, so they didn't feel they wanted to invest the money into fixing it. So what they did was set plastic sheeting underneath the hole in the top floor/storage room, then put a huge plastic garbage bucket underneath to catch any water that spilled from the sheeting. That still didn't help because it would oftentimes rain so heavily that the bucket would overflow, which then would seep through the permeable floor, which is the ceiling for the main floor, and that's how the ceiling deteriorated.
Which meant that I was fighting a noble but losing battle trying to bail all the water from the bucket every time I visited The Store. But I did so anyway; after surveying and cleaning up any water or debris from the main floor, I went up the conveyor belt that went up to the second floor and looked at the bucket to see how much water I needed to scoop into these pails, after which I would open a second-floor door and just dump the water from those pails outside. The bucket may not have been overflowing with water, so it's possible I didn't have to bail water on this Monday night, although I assume there was enough for me to do a little before I had to pick up my parents. Pain in the ass, but hey, this place allowed my parents and this family to enter the middle class, so I was loyal to it, even if I was tilting at windmills with every pailful of water.
With all the necessary stuff out of the way, I needed to make sure that no one broke into the place, or that there were no huge insect infestations. Didn't look too hard for that; there was a basement I'm sure I didn't go down to, mostly because I never could figure out where the light was. But the rest of the second floor I checked for broken windows, and there were no more than the ones that were there already. By the way, there is a staircase that leads not only down to the first floor but to an old door that was an entrance from the street. It's been boarded up for a long time, but I had not discovered it until several times before The Store was sold. I didn't know The Store used to be an old union hall, and during its heyday union members would party at The Store presumably by walking through this now-boraded-up door. So to reminisce, knowing that I didn't know when I'd be able to go back, I walked up and down that grand but musty staircase one more time.
After poking my head around the back of the main floor, where my parents had stored the majority of our goods for sale and delivery, then saying goodbye to the back kitchen and sink, I turned on the lights to The Store itself and did my customary figure-eight pattern. There are three aisles to the place, and I made sure to walk it one way, then backtrack and walk it the other way, to make sure I walked through each of the three aisles from both directions. Do you understand what I mean? Do I have OCD like that? Yes, I have OCD like that.
And then I sat down at a chair where the lottery ticket machine and cash register used to be, just to the left of the front door, and I did the second of my three "traditions" with The Store: Sit and think for 15 minutes. This chair is behind a display case of things -- games like Chinese checkers, small Chinese clothes for babies, etc. None of it sold. In fact, I don't remember the last time we sold any food product or clothing item on the convenience store side. In that sense it was useless to continue the business. But I'm sure my parents weren't losing money on them, even though they weren't making money on them either. I just sat there and harkened back to my childhood days, days where (after I got over being told to help my parents work for them at The Store, something that grew into a Saturday tradition) The Store was a lot livelier, and actually made business by people coming through the front door and needing rice or soy sauce or medicine or videotapes of Chinese movies. Things change, of course, but back then my family could be proud of the work they forged for itself. They were a mom-and-pop small business, and back in the day they were kicking ass and taking names. And it was enough to afford a good house in a nice suburb and help send three kids to college. Like I said before, it was the epitome of the American Dream. And The Store's faded, shabby, even decrepit current state does not rob it of its past glory. It was the integrity of those times, what The Store allowed us to enjoy in this country, that convinced me it was right to check up on it every other day (even though it was closed), to check the ceiling for water leaks or failing chunks of paint and to bail the water falling through the roof and to sit there and meditate of what The Store once was. Fifteen minutes didn't pass by quick; I checked my watch a couple times to see if I reached my self-imposed sentence, as I usually did. That does not mean I was in a hurry, and it certainly didn't mean I was bummed to sit on that chair.
But on this Monday time was short; I did have to go the airport to pick up my parents. I hope -- I even pray -- that I was able to fit in 15 minutes meditating over and about The Store. After that I think I went into the private bathroom where many a time I perused the porn my folks threw in there and, just for shits and giggles, jostled some Chinese magazines around to see if there were still any. Just like all the times before, there were none. I then went up to Buddha and lit some incense, and then I closed The Store up and locked up the back door. Then I stood there, just for a few seconds, and like I had every time once I knew my parents were actively trying to sell her, told The Store I loved her, said I hoped to be inside her again but said goodbye just in case I never would, and then kissed its nasty, unsanitary red front door with my lips.
Monday, September 23, 2013 was indeed the last time I saw her. And while the burden of keeping her dry is a good thing, I can't help but think of her from time to time. I wonder what it's like in there now. Time dragged slowly for the past several years before The Store closed because no one went in there. Now? It probably hasn't aged since Monday, September 23, 2013. Well, unless someone broke into it since. I wonder if someone's noticed the light hasn't been on in a long time and decided to see what The Store was really like. There's nothing we would be able to do in that case. My parents have moved on from her, and quite well. Me? I haven't, not really.
My heartache is so bad that I haven't been able to even look at The Store since the night My Father told me they sold her. I alter my trips to avoid the exit that leads there. And in the few times I have had to drive by it I make it a point not to look at her. I'm sorry, baby, but I can't bear to look at you now that you're no longer in our lives. I should look at you and not be ashamed of you, but without me around I haven't been able to take care of you, and I can't bring myself to seeing how you are in your current state. I'm so ashamed, but I ... I just can't do it.
I thought about The Store a lot during my night test project. It wasn't just the boredom leading me to space out between papers. A couple nights during the project it rained, heavily. And I couldn't help but think that water is seeping into the hole in the roof, and then onto the plastic sheeting, and then into the garbage bucket, and finally through the floor and the ceiling, dropping to the floor below, maybe taking some pieces of the ceiling with it. Oftentimes I imagine looking through the real front door of The Store in the middle of a rain storm and peering in, and seeing all these heavy beads of rain from above, and then pieces of the ceiling crashing, violently, onto the floor. The Store, in its quiet but weathered dignity, slowly dying because my parents no longer need to care and because I can't stop its death.
And that is my obituary about The Store.
I did not track every single trip to The Store. I was just too heartbroken to note every single visit because I was afraid I would be documenting my last visit. I figured I needed some time to decompress, and then I would be able to circle back and know for certain the very last day I entered The Store. But, I got busy, and things got in the way, as they always do, and now that I have time to think and realize this is a long time coming, I am scrambling to remember the last day, which was more than 18 months ago.
And sadly, Wailing And Failing is of no help. My day planner is of some help; at least I wrote down the dates I took my parents to the airport and when I needed to pick them up. That meant that those were the days I had to tend to The Store. But within that I have no idea; I didn't write down when I went to The Store in my day planner. And the two weeks' worth of blog posts yielded not one puny mention of The Store, at least one that's of any use of me. I want to yell at myself back in September 2013 for being so sloppy.
So I have to make a guess. They came back on a Monday. The day before I worked the Vikings game. As custom, I go to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) afterward. Also, my day planner said that I went to a house party, and I don't think I would stop at The Store if I were going from tits to tits. Therefore, I don't think I went to The Store on Sunday.
The only thing I did on Saturday was my alma mater's game, which was in the afternoon. Doesn't seem like I had any plans after that viewing. Finally, my parents came home that Monday. Assuming they did actually arrive Monday night, and knowing how I doted after The Store, I think I went in to check on her Saturday after the game, then came back to it just before I went to the airport Monday evening.
Therefore, Monday, September 23, 2013 was the last day I ever set foot in The Store.
Am I sure of that? Not 100%. Obviously it would have helped if I wrote it down the day after I went; it would have helped if I blogged every single visit to The Store as soon as I came home from her, or at least a day or two afterward, when I may still have had some memory of it. But again, with my sadness over being about to lose her, I was not in a mental state to chronicle that. Nonetheless, I am confident those were the last dates I went to The Store.
So what did I do my last time there? Again, my memory is hazy, but knowing what I usually did there didn't change, I first looked up at the ceiling of The Store's main floor to see if there was any further damage to it. From what I blogged about The Last Days Of The Store, the crack that was up on that ceiling for decades expanded, then water started to leak through, then a lot of water made pools of water on The Store floor, then chunks of the ceiling crashed to ground. It got so bad that some time before they left, Father tore off more parts of the ceiling so they wouldn't fall on their own. So I just needed to see what else happened while I was away. My best guess is that there was some tiny pools of water, but the ceiling crashing to the floor alleviated all the stress from the water that apparently seeped in from above.
By the way, all of that water came because the roof had a hole in it. There was a pretty big storm that blew through the area a few years ago, and I guess debris from one part of the roof was blown right down onto the part of the roof over The Store, tearing a hole through it. I think that at that point my parents were thinking about selling The Store, so they didn't feel they wanted to invest the money into fixing it. So what they did was set plastic sheeting underneath the hole in the top floor/storage room, then put a huge plastic garbage bucket underneath to catch any water that spilled from the sheeting. That still didn't help because it would oftentimes rain so heavily that the bucket would overflow, which then would seep through the permeable floor, which is the ceiling for the main floor, and that's how the ceiling deteriorated.
Which meant that I was fighting a noble but losing battle trying to bail all the water from the bucket every time I visited The Store. But I did so anyway; after surveying and cleaning up any water or debris from the main floor, I went up the conveyor belt that went up to the second floor and looked at the bucket to see how much water I needed to scoop into these pails, after which I would open a second-floor door and just dump the water from those pails outside. The bucket may not have been overflowing with water, so it's possible I didn't have to bail water on this Monday night, although I assume there was enough for me to do a little before I had to pick up my parents. Pain in the ass, but hey, this place allowed my parents and this family to enter the middle class, so I was loyal to it, even if I was tilting at windmills with every pailful of water.
With all the necessary stuff out of the way, I needed to make sure that no one broke into the place, or that there were no huge insect infestations. Didn't look too hard for that; there was a basement I'm sure I didn't go down to, mostly because I never could figure out where the light was. But the rest of the second floor I checked for broken windows, and there were no more than the ones that were there already. By the way, there is a staircase that leads not only down to the first floor but to an old door that was an entrance from the street. It's been boarded up for a long time, but I had not discovered it until several times before The Store was sold. I didn't know The Store used to be an old union hall, and during its heyday union members would party at The Store presumably by walking through this now-boraded-up door. So to reminisce, knowing that I didn't know when I'd be able to go back, I walked up and down that grand but musty staircase one more time.
After poking my head around the back of the main floor, where my parents had stored the majority of our goods for sale and delivery, then saying goodbye to the back kitchen and sink, I turned on the lights to The Store itself and did my customary figure-eight pattern. There are three aisles to the place, and I made sure to walk it one way, then backtrack and walk it the other way, to make sure I walked through each of the three aisles from both directions. Do you understand what I mean? Do I have OCD like that? Yes, I have OCD like that.
And then I sat down at a chair where the lottery ticket machine and cash register used to be, just to the left of the front door, and I did the second of my three "traditions" with The Store: Sit and think for 15 minutes. This chair is behind a display case of things -- games like Chinese checkers, small Chinese clothes for babies, etc. None of it sold. In fact, I don't remember the last time we sold any food product or clothing item on the convenience store side. In that sense it was useless to continue the business. But I'm sure my parents weren't losing money on them, even though they weren't making money on them either. I just sat there and harkened back to my childhood days, days where (after I got over being told to help my parents work for them at The Store, something that grew into a Saturday tradition) The Store was a lot livelier, and actually made business by people coming through the front door and needing rice or soy sauce or medicine or videotapes of Chinese movies. Things change, of course, but back then my family could be proud of the work they forged for itself. They were a mom-and-pop small business, and back in the day they were kicking ass and taking names. And it was enough to afford a good house in a nice suburb and help send three kids to college. Like I said before, it was the epitome of the American Dream. And The Store's faded, shabby, even decrepit current state does not rob it of its past glory. It was the integrity of those times, what The Store allowed us to enjoy in this country, that convinced me it was right to check up on it every other day (even though it was closed), to check the ceiling for water leaks or failing chunks of paint and to bail the water falling through the roof and to sit there and meditate of what The Store once was. Fifteen minutes didn't pass by quick; I checked my watch a couple times to see if I reached my self-imposed sentence, as I usually did. That does not mean I was in a hurry, and it certainly didn't mean I was bummed to sit on that chair.
But on this Monday time was short; I did have to go the airport to pick up my parents. I hope -- I even pray -- that I was able to fit in 15 minutes meditating over and about The Store. After that I think I went into the private bathroom where many a time I perused the porn my folks threw in there and, just for shits and giggles, jostled some Chinese magazines around to see if there were still any. Just like all the times before, there were none. I then went up to Buddha and lit some incense, and then I closed The Store up and locked up the back door. Then I stood there, just for a few seconds, and like I had every time once I knew my parents were actively trying to sell her, told The Store I loved her, said I hoped to be inside her again but said goodbye just in case I never would, and then kissed its nasty, unsanitary red front door with my lips.
Monday, September 23, 2013 was indeed the last time I saw her. And while the burden of keeping her dry is a good thing, I can't help but think of her from time to time. I wonder what it's like in there now. Time dragged slowly for the past several years before The Store closed because no one went in there. Now? It probably hasn't aged since Monday, September 23, 2013. Well, unless someone broke into it since. I wonder if someone's noticed the light hasn't been on in a long time and decided to see what The Store was really like. There's nothing we would be able to do in that case. My parents have moved on from her, and quite well. Me? I haven't, not really.
My heartache is so bad that I haven't been able to even look at The Store since the night My Father told me they sold her. I alter my trips to avoid the exit that leads there. And in the few times I have had to drive by it I make it a point not to look at her. I'm sorry, baby, but I can't bear to look at you now that you're no longer in our lives. I should look at you and not be ashamed of you, but without me around I haven't been able to take care of you, and I can't bring myself to seeing how you are in your current state. I'm so ashamed, but I ... I just can't do it.
I thought about The Store a lot during my night test project. It wasn't just the boredom leading me to space out between papers. A couple nights during the project it rained, heavily. And I couldn't help but think that water is seeping into the hole in the roof, and then onto the plastic sheeting, and then into the garbage bucket, and finally through the floor and the ceiling, dropping to the floor below, maybe taking some pieces of the ceiling with it. Oftentimes I imagine looking through the real front door of The Store in the middle of a rain storm and peering in, and seeing all these heavy beads of rain from above, and then pieces of the ceiling crashing, violently, onto the floor. The Store, in its quiet but weathered dignity, slowly dying because my parents no longer need to care and because I can't stop its death.
And that is my obituary about The Store.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Passing Along The Panic
So I wake up with a bevy of messages through many of the communication apps on my phone, all of them at the prompting of Mother, who wanted to get ahold of me whenever my parents are trotting around the world. If you can tell they were in a panic, the series of messsages on WhatsApp and the missed calls through Viber (I thought Viber was passe?), and the late night hours when they were transmitted was your evidence. To which I can only say, Hey, I had two beers last night and I am a working stiff and I was asleep.
They needed to know a bus schedule; just sent them the information. Whether or not that stops Mother from panicking, I don't know. Meanwhile, I am panicking because my ATF, ***e*, apparently is in the wind. I need to set up a time for her to come up and clean my house before my parents arrive back home, and I tried both Messenger and plain old text, and I haven't heard from her yet. This woman changes phones like she changes panties, but at some point she would get back to me if I need to transact money, like I do now. Where the hell is she? I don't know, but I'm freaking out -- and unlike Mother, my freaking out is justified.
You know, I think that sometimes my panicking over not getting the information I need when I think I need it gets me into problems. Like The Asshole at the flu biller place. Was he offended/pissed off because he took me not knowing what I need to do but feeling something needs to be done right away as "bossing him around?" Could be. But fuck him. He's an asshole.
They needed to know a bus schedule; just sent them the information. Whether or not that stops Mother from panicking, I don't know. Meanwhile, I am panicking because my ATF, ***e*, apparently is in the wind. I need to set up a time for her to come up and clean my house before my parents arrive back home, and I tried both Messenger and plain old text, and I haven't heard from her yet. This woman changes phones like she changes panties, but at some point she would get back to me if I need to transact money, like I do now. Where the hell is she? I don't know, but I'm freaking out -- and unlike Mother, my freaking out is justified.
You know, I think that sometimes my panicking over not getting the information I need when I think I need it gets me into problems. Like The Asshole at the flu biller place. Was he offended/pissed off because he took me not knowing what I need to do but feeling something needs to be done right away as "bossing him around?" Could be. But fuck him. He's an asshole.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Positive Numbers: Twins (Last Week: -1). God, I love this time of year, when all the fall and winter sports lie dormant and the only team I need to dote on are the Twinks (and pretty soon the Lynx, but still only means two entries, so that's very doable).
What also helps blog the survey: A winning team. And that is what this club has been doing all month. In fact, they are the winningest group for the month of May. The week began with a 3-2 loss at the White Sox, but they have won five straight since, capped off with a three-game sweep of Boston at Target Field. That has vaulted them into a tie for first place in the American League Central with defending league champion Kansas City and a tie for second-best record in the AL, behind only another organization that was shit not too long ago, Houston.
I've answered this before but I'll ask it again: How are they winning? Aaron Gleeman, writing for MinnPost, is a sabermatrician and has (unlike me) actually drilled down into the numbers to come up with this excellent story. The main similarity, and unfortunately its tenuous streak, is based mostly on luck. The lineup is barely average in hitting, but managed to hit in bunches, thus racking up runs in big innings. The bullpen, which I thought was comprehensively rounding into form, actually has been dead solid perfect in tight games. And the rotation has gone from awful to merely mediocre, something I was able to put my finger on.
Gleeman and another man named John (?) Bonis host a weekly Sunday show called Gleeman and The Geek. And one of them (I'm guessing it was Bonis/The Geek) said that the Twins playing well above expectations (which were that this team would hit 90 losses) once again doesn't mean there will be a nasty regression to the mean. He says that the prediction that this is a 90+loss club will hold, just from here on out. In other words, they won't have to give back the wins they have already won by playing well below expectation for the rest of the season, so they will finish with less than 90 losses. I have to disagree. I may not know numbers like Gleeman or The Geek, but if they predicted that the Twinks will lose 90 games, odds are that they are right on that macro prediction, therefore they will have to play worse than initially forecast so that by the end of the year they will be right where they thought they would be. So yes, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. It may not happen; it's possible that the projections for everybody on the major league roster is wrong, plus the prospects for this squad will be higher if Byron Buxton and Miguel Sano get called up. But yes, there will be a correction, and it'll be a bitch.
Till then let's take it one game at a time ... well, one screening week at a time. On Friday they host Toronto for three games, then they travel to Boston for a four-game series starting on Monday.
What also helps blog the survey: A winning team. And that is what this club has been doing all month. In fact, they are the winningest group for the month of May. The week began with a 3-2 loss at the White Sox, but they have won five straight since, capped off with a three-game sweep of Boston at Target Field. That has vaulted them into a tie for first place in the American League Central with defending league champion Kansas City and a tie for second-best record in the AL, behind only another organization that was shit not too long ago, Houston.
I've answered this before but I'll ask it again: How are they winning? Aaron Gleeman, writing for MinnPost, is a sabermatrician and has (unlike me) actually drilled down into the numbers to come up with this excellent story. The main similarity, and unfortunately its tenuous streak, is based mostly on luck. The lineup is barely average in hitting, but managed to hit in bunches, thus racking up runs in big innings. The bullpen, which I thought was comprehensively rounding into form, actually has been dead solid perfect in tight games. And the rotation has gone from awful to merely mediocre, something I was able to put my finger on.
Gleeman and another man named John (?) Bonis host a weekly Sunday show called Gleeman and The Geek. And one of them (I'm guessing it was Bonis/The Geek) said that the Twins playing well above expectations (which were that this team would hit 90 losses) once again doesn't mean there will be a nasty regression to the mean. He says that the prediction that this is a 90+loss club will hold, just from here on out. In other words, they won't have to give back the wins they have already won by playing well below expectation for the rest of the season, so they will finish with less than 90 losses. I have to disagree. I may not know numbers like Gleeman or The Geek, but if they predicted that the Twinks will lose 90 games, odds are that they are right on that macro prediction, therefore they will have to play worse than initially forecast so that by the end of the year they will be right where they thought they would be. So yes, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. It may not happen; it's possible that the projections for everybody on the major league roster is wrong, plus the prospects for this squad will be higher if Byron Buxton and Miguel Sano get called up. But yes, there will be a correction, and it'll be a bitch.
Till then let's take it one game at a time ... well, one screening week at a time. On Friday they host Toronto for three games, then they travel to Boston for a four-game series starting on Monday.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Two Supes
OK, so there are several supervisors we turn to for advice if we have any questions. My supe is great, even though I'm pretty sure he wants to choke the life out of me for asking too many questions and being a weirdo at least twice a day. A few are great, one has talked to me once, and one that doesn't talk to me, which I find strange and, well, she contributes to the vague hostility in the air that makes this project not like the comfort of the project I was in before.
So this afternoon I'm raising my hand because this paper's bugging me. This supe breaks her spell at looking at her computer and joins all the other supervisors in helping us test people. Surprised. I show her the paper in question, to which she replies, "Does it show a connection or a change?" And it doesn't, but I still though that there was enough there to not completely fail the paper. I just wasn't able to articulate it. But by the time I was ready to say something, I look back at her ... and she was walking away. The fuck? COME BACK HERE!!! I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET!!!
You know, I have to work at this project, so I can't do what I really want to do, which is to confront her and then throw stuff at her. And, hey, she did at least get up to answer my question, which is a hell of a lot more than she's done for me before. But damn, that was rude and weird and dumb.
---
OK, now the big boss man ... I don't know where he's at sometimes. We trained in a way I had never done before. I didn't get it, and neither did the people around me, and I'm sure many people in the room were confused. I understand that he thought that it'd be better this way, and he also knows that a lot of this training is compulsory anyway, but man, I wish he'd just slow down a bit.
Later, I had a coughing fit and he told me not to choke myself to death. See, he's funny like that. So there are times where I don't know what the hell he's doing, and then the next minute he's really cool. (sigh) I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I just wish that he could organize things that way I'm used to. And you know what? I think the vast majority of people in the room like him too, yet also wish he would be more organized.
So this afternoon I'm raising my hand because this paper's bugging me. This supe breaks her spell at looking at her computer and joins all the other supervisors in helping us test people. Surprised. I show her the paper in question, to which she replies, "Does it show a connection or a change?" And it doesn't, but I still though that there was enough there to not completely fail the paper. I just wasn't able to articulate it. But by the time I was ready to say something, I look back at her ... and she was walking away. The fuck? COME BACK HERE!!! I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET!!!
You know, I have to work at this project, so I can't do what I really want to do, which is to confront her and then throw stuff at her. And, hey, she did at least get up to answer my question, which is a hell of a lot more than she's done for me before. But damn, that was rude and weird and dumb.
---
OK, now the big boss man ... I don't know where he's at sometimes. We trained in a way I had never done before. I didn't get it, and neither did the people around me, and I'm sure many people in the room were confused. I understand that he thought that it'd be better this way, and he also knows that a lot of this training is compulsory anyway, but man, I wish he'd just slow down a bit.
Later, I had a coughing fit and he told me not to choke myself to death. See, he's funny like that. So there are times where I don't know what the hell he's doing, and then the next minute he's really cool. (sigh) I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I just wish that he could organize things that way I'm used to. And you know what? I think the vast majority of people in the room like him too, yet also wish he would be more organized.
What Do You Mean I Can't Be Generous?
So I have this annual tradition at the test scoring place where I bring in donuts for the entire room. Just want to be nice, and I think bringing in donuts is a good morale booster.
Well, this new room ... well, the guy running it says that they prefer small wrapped candy. Or at least that's what I think he said. Just to confirm, yesterday before I went I spoke to my supervisor. And he said that, indeed, baked goods are something they would rather not have for the room.
What? No donuts? What the hell? Who doesn't want donuts? I don't know if he's cagey as to why, but my supe said that it's a new rule starting this year. Or something. And then he walked away.
Honestly, I don't get this room. On the one hand there are a lot of things that you can do here that weren't allowed in my previous project. But on the other hand there are these bizarre and draconian rules that seem to make a big deal out of nothing, and (in my opinion) contribute to this hostility that lingers over the room. I real don't understand the issue with bringing in donuts, and my supervisor may or may not agree. But the bottom line is my tradition of bringing them is apparently has to end this year. Whatever.
The next thing I need to worry about is when this project is over. It could end the end of this month, it could end next week. I have no idea, because the guy running it either isn't going to say or has said it in such a mush-mouthed manner that I don't understand. And this is a place I am going to right now.
Well, this new room ... well, the guy running it says that they prefer small wrapped candy. Or at least that's what I think he said. Just to confirm, yesterday before I went I spoke to my supervisor. And he said that, indeed, baked goods are something they would rather not have for the room.
What? No donuts? What the hell? Who doesn't want donuts? I don't know if he's cagey as to why, but my supe said that it's a new rule starting this year. Or something. And then he walked away.
Honestly, I don't get this room. On the one hand there are a lot of things that you can do here that weren't allowed in my previous project. But on the other hand there are these bizarre and draconian rules that seem to make a big deal out of nothing, and (in my opinion) contribute to this hostility that lingers over the room. I real don't understand the issue with bringing in donuts, and my supervisor may or may not agree. But the bottom line is my tradition of bringing them is apparently has to end this year. Whatever.
The next thing I need to worry about is when this project is over. It could end the end of this month, it could end next week. I have no idea, because the guy running it either isn't going to say or has said it in such a mush-mouthed manner that I don't understand. And this is a place I am going to right now.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Why Is My Heart Beating So Hard?
I should be feeling good right now. It's a cloudy day, and it will be all day, so I won't have to worry about my mood being affected by a hard, hot sun. I woke up after conking off to listening to the NBA game on satellite radio at 9:30 or so; since I woke up at around 5:30, I got a full night of sleep, the first time in a long time.
I have the run of the house, and my parents won't be home for another week or so. I am going to drive a car that is only 1,000 miles old (so it won't break down) to a worksite that is relatively stress-free. I don't have to fight traffic on the way home because there is no dinner waiting at home for me. I'm going to see the next Avengers movie because it's Discount Tuesday. And I did a lot of things yesterday (Memorial Day), so I should be happy I got some things done.
So why is my heart beating so hard? Is it because of the alumni stuff, talking to my friend about going to wrestling on Friday, making sure the plants get watered or don't get too watered, or making sure that my ATF ***e* will be able to clean the house next week? Is it that I still have no money? Or is it that I know that all good things must come to an end, so I might as well fret that they will now instead of enjoying myself?
And now I have to go even though I'm in my pajamas.
I have the run of the house, and my parents won't be home for another week or so. I am going to drive a car that is only 1,000 miles old (so it won't break down) to a worksite that is relatively stress-free. I don't have to fight traffic on the way home because there is no dinner waiting at home for me. I'm going to see the next Avengers movie because it's Discount Tuesday. And I did a lot of things yesterday (Memorial Day), so I should be happy I got some things done.
So why is my heart beating so hard? Is it because of the alumni stuff, talking to my friend about going to wrestling on Friday, making sure the plants get watered or don't get too watered, or making sure that my ATF ***e* will be able to clean the house next week? Is it that I still have no money? Or is it that I know that all good things must come to an end, so I might as well fret that they will now instead of enjoying myself?
And now I have to go even though I'm in my pajamas.
Monday, May 25, 2015
Why Should I Give Them Money? It Was Free!
So I'm really getting into the English Premier League. So much so that I decided not to shut myself in this Memorial Day (thank you to all who paid the ultimate sacrifice in representing America) because there was what is called the Playoff Final between two teams named Middlesbrough and Norwich City. Those two teams were the finalists from the Football League Championship, the AAA/second class of English football. The winner of that game gets to be the third and final club promoted to the EPL. It's important because the winner gets a piece of the huge television contract and the loser, well, gets League Championship contract money, which is significantly worse. It's dubbed "The Richest Match In The World" for that reason.
So you can tell there is a hell of a lot at stake. That convinces me that watching the game wouldn't be the worst thing to do in the world. It'd be a great way to enjoy a weekend morning ... but last night I checked the time and realized I had the date wrong. It was today, Monday, at 9 Central. I was debating last night whether to sleep in and hermetically seal myself because I didn't need to go out today. That way I would neither use gas with either of the cars I am using right now nor spend any money from my wallet, both of which I have done daily since my old car blew its head gasket. I even stacked the deck towards that by staying up past 4, something I haven't done in months.
But in the end ... well, YOLO and shit. I might as well spend some money hanging out in downtown Minneapolis and enjoy some soccer with like-minded footy fans. So what if I only got 2 1/2 hours of sleep? Wasn't tired, by the way, and I was easily able to find a place to park (thank goodness nobody needed to do anything downtown this Memorial morning, and Buddha bless no parking meter enforcement on holidays, and by the way!) and walk to the start of the game on time. The place I went to was the only of the two pubs downtown that opened its doors. There was even a guy at the lectern that invited me into the back where the TV was showing the Promotion Game. And there was a guy that said that there's complimentary coffee and water, too! Sweet!
The game was a snoozer; the Norwich City Canaries, which actually finished fourth in the standings as Middlesbrough finished third, scored twice in the first half and won handily. So my attention turned to the dozen or so others who, one by one, came back from the bar with drinks. There were drink specials going on this morning for the game, and I had every intention of getting one. But if there was coffee there to drink for free, hell, I'm drinking coffee. Wouldn't everyone else do the same thing? Apparently not. And pretty soon I think I was the only viewer who did not get a beer or an apple cider or orange juice or anything.
So, as time went full, I was really looking back and forth as to what to do. Once again, I saw myself at a crossroads. I didn't want to look like a freeloader and just skip away after the game was over. Then again, if they wanted me to spend money, why in the hell did they offer coffee for free? I decided on a third way; I would throw a buck at the bar rail on my way out. Yes, that's a lame gesture, especially if no one is there to acknowledge it. But then they couldn't say I just sauntered into the bar to watch a game for free.
The match was over and I had to pee. While walking to the bathroom I suddenly mentally clutched tight my wallet again. Why in the hell do I have to spend money when they offered coffee for free? The act of giving this pub money was going to dictate what I was going to the rest of my day. If I did give them a tip, that meant that my wallet was open all day; might as well go get lunch at Arby's, for example, and then go to Wal-Mart and get Grandmother's friend a phone card so she could talk to her at her home. Don't give a tip and then I go straight home and not open up that front door until I go to work Tuesday morning -- it'll be boring as hell, but at least I would be saving money. Decisions, decisions. ...
So I piss and I head out, right hand at the ready to reach in and grab my wallet. In retrospect I guess I was looking for one thing: Either one of the two nice gentlemen who greeted me to look at me on the way out. If they saw me, I would feel guilty enough to throw a dollar. But as I walked past the group of Roma fans there to watch the game after the Promotion Game, I didn't see either of them. In fact, all the workers at the pub were too busy getting ready for the football fans of the Serie A game and/or Twins fans who want to stop in for a drink before the Memorial Day game against Boston at Target Field. With each ensuing step, in fact, I was more confident that I could walk out of there without paying money nor feeling guilty about not paying money.
And then I opened the front door and walked out and ... did I just walk out of a pub without paying any money??? I was walking away with my palms heavenward like, "Shouldn't I go back in there and give some money? Did anyone catch me? Are they pissed off? Will I ever be able to walk back in there ever again?" None of those questions, of course, compelled me to turn around. I just went to my car, prayed that karma isn't going to get me into an accident (I drove my parents' minivan to the pub), and here I now am, stomach filled with the rest of the Quizno's lobster salad sandwich I bought yesterday so I wouldn't have to buy anything today.
And now I really don't know if I can walk back in there. I have been in that place before. Great pub to watch soccer. I was there last week, in fact, even though I was wandering around and the bartender thought I was walking away from my tab. Well, that along with what I did today may complicate things, come to think of it. I'll have to go back there because apparently they are the ones that will be open all mornings, even holidays. Well, I'll just walk up and immediately buy some food. Let them know I want to give them my business -- a day besides today.
So you can tell there is a hell of a lot at stake. That convinces me that watching the game wouldn't be the worst thing to do in the world. It'd be a great way to enjoy a weekend morning ... but last night I checked the time and realized I had the date wrong. It was today, Monday, at 9 Central. I was debating last night whether to sleep in and hermetically seal myself because I didn't need to go out today. That way I would neither use gas with either of the cars I am using right now nor spend any money from my wallet, both of which I have done daily since my old car blew its head gasket. I even stacked the deck towards that by staying up past 4, something I haven't done in months.
But in the end ... well, YOLO and shit. I might as well spend some money hanging out in downtown Minneapolis and enjoy some soccer with like-minded footy fans. So what if I only got 2 1/2 hours of sleep? Wasn't tired, by the way, and I was easily able to find a place to park (thank goodness nobody needed to do anything downtown this Memorial morning, and Buddha bless no parking meter enforcement on holidays, and by the way!) and walk to the start of the game on time. The place I went to was the only of the two pubs downtown that opened its doors. There was even a guy at the lectern that invited me into the back where the TV was showing the Promotion Game. And there was a guy that said that there's complimentary coffee and water, too! Sweet!
The game was a snoozer; the Norwich City Canaries, which actually finished fourth in the standings as Middlesbrough finished third, scored twice in the first half and won handily. So my attention turned to the dozen or so others who, one by one, came back from the bar with drinks. There were drink specials going on this morning for the game, and I had every intention of getting one. But if there was coffee there to drink for free, hell, I'm drinking coffee. Wouldn't everyone else do the same thing? Apparently not. And pretty soon I think I was the only viewer who did not get a beer or an apple cider or orange juice or anything.
So, as time went full, I was really looking back and forth as to what to do. Once again, I saw myself at a crossroads. I didn't want to look like a freeloader and just skip away after the game was over. Then again, if they wanted me to spend money, why in the hell did they offer coffee for free? I decided on a third way; I would throw a buck at the bar rail on my way out. Yes, that's a lame gesture, especially if no one is there to acknowledge it. But then they couldn't say I just sauntered into the bar to watch a game for free.
The match was over and I had to pee. While walking to the bathroom I suddenly mentally clutched tight my wallet again. Why in the hell do I have to spend money when they offered coffee for free? The act of giving this pub money was going to dictate what I was going to the rest of my day. If I did give them a tip, that meant that my wallet was open all day; might as well go get lunch at Arby's, for example, and then go to Wal-Mart and get Grandmother's friend a phone card so she could talk to her at her home. Don't give a tip and then I go straight home and not open up that front door until I go to work Tuesday morning -- it'll be boring as hell, but at least I would be saving money. Decisions, decisions. ...
So I piss and I head out, right hand at the ready to reach in and grab my wallet. In retrospect I guess I was looking for one thing: Either one of the two nice gentlemen who greeted me to look at me on the way out. If they saw me, I would feel guilty enough to throw a dollar. But as I walked past the group of Roma fans there to watch the game after the Promotion Game, I didn't see either of them. In fact, all the workers at the pub were too busy getting ready for the football fans of the Serie A game and/or Twins fans who want to stop in for a drink before the Memorial Day game against Boston at Target Field. With each ensuing step, in fact, I was more confident that I could walk out of there without paying money nor feeling guilty about not paying money.
And then I opened the front door and walked out and ... did I just walk out of a pub without paying any money??? I was walking away with my palms heavenward like, "Shouldn't I go back in there and give some money? Did anyone catch me? Are they pissed off? Will I ever be able to walk back in there ever again?" None of those questions, of course, compelled me to turn around. I just went to my car, prayed that karma isn't going to get me into an accident (I drove my parents' minivan to the pub), and here I now am, stomach filled with the rest of the Quizno's lobster salad sandwich I bought yesterday so I wouldn't have to buy anything today.
And now I really don't know if I can walk back in there. I have been in that place before. Great pub to watch soccer. I was there last week, in fact, even though I was wandering around and the bartender thought I was walking away from my tab. Well, that along with what I did today may complicate things, come to think of it. I'll have to go back there because apparently they are the ones that will be open all mornings, even holidays. Well, I'll just walk up and immediately buy some food. Let them know I want to give them my business -- a day besides today.
The Best Commercials Of Super Bowl XLIX
Yes, I know that Super Bowl XLIX is almost four months ago. I got busy. It's Memorial Weekend, and I don't have anything to do Monday, and that allows me to stay up and be at Caffetto on a late Sunday night (God, I love staying up late on Sunday nights) to finally get around to doing this. So here are the five best commercials of Super Bowl XLIX.
I am very surprised that there wasn't an advertisement that floored me -- no "God Made A Farmer," and no Chrysler commercials featuring Clint Eastwood or Eminem or even cantankerous teabagger Bob Dylan. (In fact I don't remember Chrysler running a spot for the Super Bowl.) So all in all, this Super Bowl was very disappointing ad-wise.
So much so, in fact, that in my five best commercials I put the requisite Budweiser "cute animals" spot in my Top Five. I will say that the commercial moved me more than their other similar ones. But objectively it was weak enough that better efforts from the 60+ others that bought up to $4 million for 30 seconds of time in the game would have easily pushed Budweiser (which, for the third year in a row, won USA Today's Ad Meter -- you stay middle-of-the-road and predictable, America!) out of this list. But there just weren't enough that were better.
Before I count down my five best (in ascending order), I should give an Honorable Mention to BMW's "Newfangled Idea," reuniting Bryant Gumbel and Katie Couric. In the end I couldn't bump any of the next five out of my top five. Also, I cheated and looked at this ad before the Super Bowl (as well as a few others; more and more ads that will appear in the game are made available online before the game), even though I shouldn't have, and I feel kind of bad. Finally, I could be wrong, but I watched the whole game (well, besides driving to my cousin's place during the Halftime Show) and I don't remember seeing the spot, therefore it's not really a Super Bowl ad.
But if I'm wrong and it did air during the game, I stand corrected. At any rate, here it is:
The idea behind this commercial may be the most original of this Super Bowl (and it's getting increasingly more difficult to find an original idea for a Super Bowl ad that doesn't rely on animals, babies, slapstick humor or gross sexual entendres). BMW managed to get footage of The Today Show in 1994, aka The Birth Of The Internet. Gumbel and Couric were hosting The Today Show at the time, and this little vignette shows them figuring out what the heck is that series of letters with that "@" thing in the middle. Of course, what they were trying to decipher on the screen is an e-mail address, technology that has been around so long that I think e-mail is passe.
Fast-forward 21 years. Gumbel and Couric once again pull their perplexed, "What the heck is this doohickey?" schitck while in BMW's new all-electric i3. Like the Internet in '94, they are confused by how the car they are in was created. I can see how some may dismiss this as old farts not getting how new stuff works. But showing two people who still remain members of the media two decades later (and, if I may say, still looking quite good for their ages) bickering about what the hell this thing is reflects a truth that many people may sense but don't quite understand: Our world has evolved at such light speed that the things we take for granted now were absolutely mind-blowing not too long ago. BMW hopes that people not used to a car that was made in what Gumbel calls a "windbine" will buy it in enough numbers where it becomes ubiquitous in the not-too-distant future. That is a genius idea and it doesn't get as much respect as it should.
OK -- now, my Top Five:
5) Nationwide, "Invisible"
I'm not exactly sure why an ad that stands out because of its stunt casting strikes me as so good. I guess I like Nationwide's rather simple idea that they don't treat their members as invisible as Mindy Kaling had been and thought was being treated. The stunt casting is something I like here too; I never gave Kaling's The Mindy Project a shot, but she is funny (at least here). And for some reason it's cool to see Matt Damon be perturbed/real at Kaling bothering him, kind of like I assume he'll be whenever some fan comes up to him while he's doing something.
4) Carnival Corporation, "Come Back to the Sea"
This is the most gorgeous spot of Super Bowl XLIX ... and after seeing it just now, it may be the most gorgeous spot in recent history. Carnival Corporation probably took out a loan to get aerial shots of their fleet of sheets slowly cutting through impossibly still waters, their lights beacons casting light onto parts of Earth many of its guests have never been through but plan on having a lot of fun seeing. Points for using a speech from President John F. Kennedy during the 1962 America's Cup, when America was fending off a challenge for yachting's most prestigious competition from Australia; I think both crews were in attendance for a dinner where JFK made a very eloquent speech.
Using a scratchy recording is a similar and effective technique to "God Made A Farmer," where a speech by radio legend Paul Harvey was thrown under beautiful images of the farmers that feed the world (capped at the end, of course, by the Ram Trucks that these farmers drive). It's an evocative, long-passed voice of a wise man that reminds us of the timeless qualities that we have forgotten to appreciate. The capper to this spot was Carnival Corporation's entire fleet of cruise ships, cruising the ocean in the same direction at night, an armada of lido decks supplying the world with entertainment while trapped in really, really big boats. Carnival runs nine lines of cruise companies, and every single liner in those lines appear to have been photoshopped into that shot, but it would be fun to think that they actually got every single one of their cruise ships in some bay out in the Pacific Ocean to shoot that for real. I'm a sucker for that shot, therefore I'm a fan of this ad. Then again, it may speak to me because my parents have become cruise fiends.
3) Budweiser, "Lost Dog"
Just to be clear: While I have never liked Budweiser commercials, I have never hated the animals in them. I've hated their ads because they continually eat low-handing fruit, and people seem to eat these spots up, so it fuels my thinking that people are generally stupid. But the Budweiser Clydesdales always look majestic, and the puppies are unfailingly cute.
In an extension of Budweiser's puppy love, a Clydesdale is shipped somewhere, but the puppy can't bear to see his equine friend go, so he chases after him. (When the puppy is huddled in that box during that rainstorm, I think everybody wanted to take him home and adopt him.) When the puppy is about to be eaten by a wolf apparently native to the state of Missouri, the Clydesdale and his posse sense his friend is in trouble and busts through their locked stable doors to save him from imminent danger. That turn toward the (slightly) dark side makes this different from other Bud commercials which never even hint towards violence. Mostly I like this one because the horses defend the puppy, which makes me think of the one time, the one friggin' time, my brother came to my defense from bullies. Needless to say I wish my bro defended me more often.
2) Esurance, "Sorta Pharmacist"
I see only one spot Esurance (which, in case you don't know, is owned by Allstate) that uses this "Sorta" premise these days, and the "Sorta" person is not Lindsay Lohan nor Bryan Cranston, so I'm not sure how committed the company is to this ad campaign. Too bad, because -- and I may be a star-effer after liking the Kaling Nationwide spot so much -- seeing Bryan Cranston reprise Walter White for comedic effect as a stand-in pharmacist is awesome to me. I confess that I have not sat through a single episode of Breaking Bad, but I hear the series is uniformly fantastic, and I believe that White is never as funny as he is in this 30-second ad. Kudos also, I guess, go out to Esurance for plugging another company, Pontiac, even though I'm not sure if they still make Aztecs.
1) Doritos, "Middle Seat"
I'll say this from the get-go: Partially I'm naming this #1 because the guy who made it attended my alma mater. But don't tell me this commercial wasn't funny. Everybody can relate to the point when the middle seat in an airplane next to you is filled by someone. So this guy does all he can to keep that seat open (leafing through the book about Irritable Bowel Syndrome is a kick) so he (and don't forget the guy in the window seat!) can have a little more room. But then he spies this real hot chick, and so he puts away the IBS book, the tissue he blows into, the dental floss and the nail clipper and flashes that smile that says, "Hey, you can slip into my middle seat!" Unfortunately he forgot to wait for the guy in front of that chick to move ahead. Otherwise he would've seen that the hot chick has her child attached in front of her. And mothers with toddlers are the worst people to be seated next to, especially if they're in the middle seat.
One other thing to remind you: This comes from Doritos, which once again is utilizing its "Crash the Super Bowl" campaign where they have people upload spots they made (with Doritos branding, of course), and they pay the ad buy in the Super Bowl for the commercial that gets the most votes. Once again, Doritos proves that you don't need to pay an ad agency millions of dollars to produce the best commercial of the Super Bowl.
I am very surprised that there wasn't an advertisement that floored me -- no "God Made A Farmer," and no Chrysler commercials featuring Clint Eastwood or Eminem or even cantankerous teabagger Bob Dylan. (In fact I don't remember Chrysler running a spot for the Super Bowl.) So all in all, this Super Bowl was very disappointing ad-wise.
So much so, in fact, that in my five best commercials I put the requisite Budweiser "cute animals" spot in my Top Five. I will say that the commercial moved me more than their other similar ones. But objectively it was weak enough that better efforts from the 60+ others that bought up to $4 million for 30 seconds of time in the game would have easily pushed Budweiser (which, for the third year in a row, won USA Today's Ad Meter -- you stay middle-of-the-road and predictable, America!) out of this list. But there just weren't enough that were better.
Before I count down my five best (in ascending order), I should give an Honorable Mention to BMW's "Newfangled Idea," reuniting Bryant Gumbel and Katie Couric. In the end I couldn't bump any of the next five out of my top five. Also, I cheated and looked at this ad before the Super Bowl (as well as a few others; more and more ads that will appear in the game are made available online before the game), even though I shouldn't have, and I feel kind of bad. Finally, I could be wrong, but I watched the whole game (well, besides driving to my cousin's place during the Halftime Show) and I don't remember seeing the spot, therefore it's not really a Super Bowl ad.
But if I'm wrong and it did air during the game, I stand corrected. At any rate, here it is:
The idea behind this commercial may be the most original of this Super Bowl (and it's getting increasingly more difficult to find an original idea for a Super Bowl ad that doesn't rely on animals, babies, slapstick humor or gross sexual entendres). BMW managed to get footage of The Today Show in 1994, aka The Birth Of The Internet. Gumbel and Couric were hosting The Today Show at the time, and this little vignette shows them figuring out what the heck is that series of letters with that "@" thing in the middle. Of course, what they were trying to decipher on the screen is an e-mail address, technology that has been around so long that I think e-mail is passe.
Fast-forward 21 years. Gumbel and Couric once again pull their perplexed, "What the heck is this doohickey?" schitck while in BMW's new all-electric i3. Like the Internet in '94, they are confused by how the car they are in was created. I can see how some may dismiss this as old farts not getting how new stuff works. But showing two people who still remain members of the media two decades later (and, if I may say, still looking quite good for their ages) bickering about what the hell this thing is reflects a truth that many people may sense but don't quite understand: Our world has evolved at such light speed that the things we take for granted now were absolutely mind-blowing not too long ago. BMW hopes that people not used to a car that was made in what Gumbel calls a "windbine" will buy it in enough numbers where it becomes ubiquitous in the not-too-distant future. That is a genius idea and it doesn't get as much respect as it should.
OK -- now, my Top Five:
5) Nationwide, "Invisible"
I'm not exactly sure why an ad that stands out because of its stunt casting strikes me as so good. I guess I like Nationwide's rather simple idea that they don't treat their members as invisible as Mindy Kaling had been and thought was being treated. The stunt casting is something I like here too; I never gave Kaling's The Mindy Project a shot, but she is funny (at least here). And for some reason it's cool to see Matt Damon be perturbed/real at Kaling bothering him, kind of like I assume he'll be whenever some fan comes up to him while he's doing something.
4) Carnival Corporation, "Come Back to the Sea"
This is the most gorgeous spot of Super Bowl XLIX ... and after seeing it just now, it may be the most gorgeous spot in recent history. Carnival Corporation probably took out a loan to get aerial shots of their fleet of sheets slowly cutting through impossibly still waters, their lights beacons casting light onto parts of Earth many of its guests have never been through but plan on having a lot of fun seeing. Points for using a speech from President John F. Kennedy during the 1962 America's Cup, when America was fending off a challenge for yachting's most prestigious competition from Australia; I think both crews were in attendance for a dinner where JFK made a very eloquent speech.
Using a scratchy recording is a similar and effective technique to "God Made A Farmer," where a speech by radio legend Paul Harvey was thrown under beautiful images of the farmers that feed the world (capped at the end, of course, by the Ram Trucks that these farmers drive). It's an evocative, long-passed voice of a wise man that reminds us of the timeless qualities that we have forgotten to appreciate. The capper to this spot was Carnival Corporation's entire fleet of cruise ships, cruising the ocean in the same direction at night, an armada of lido decks supplying the world with entertainment while trapped in really, really big boats. Carnival runs nine lines of cruise companies, and every single liner in those lines appear to have been photoshopped into that shot, but it would be fun to think that they actually got every single one of their cruise ships in some bay out in the Pacific Ocean to shoot that for real. I'm a sucker for that shot, therefore I'm a fan of this ad. Then again, it may speak to me because my parents have become cruise fiends.
3) Budweiser, "Lost Dog"
Just to be clear: While I have never liked Budweiser commercials, I have never hated the animals in them. I've hated their ads because they continually eat low-handing fruit, and people seem to eat these spots up, so it fuels my thinking that people are generally stupid. But the Budweiser Clydesdales always look majestic, and the puppies are unfailingly cute.
In an extension of Budweiser's puppy love, a Clydesdale is shipped somewhere, but the puppy can't bear to see his equine friend go, so he chases after him. (When the puppy is huddled in that box during that rainstorm, I think everybody wanted to take him home and adopt him.) When the puppy is about to be eaten by a wolf apparently native to the state of Missouri, the Clydesdale and his posse sense his friend is in trouble and busts through their locked stable doors to save him from imminent danger. That turn toward the (slightly) dark side makes this different from other Bud commercials which never even hint towards violence. Mostly I like this one because the horses defend the puppy, which makes me think of the one time, the one friggin' time, my brother came to my defense from bullies. Needless to say I wish my bro defended me more often.
2) Esurance, "Sorta Pharmacist"
I see only one spot Esurance (which, in case you don't know, is owned by Allstate) that uses this "Sorta" premise these days, and the "Sorta" person is not Lindsay Lohan nor Bryan Cranston, so I'm not sure how committed the company is to this ad campaign. Too bad, because -- and I may be a star-effer after liking the Kaling Nationwide spot so much -- seeing Bryan Cranston reprise Walter White for comedic effect as a stand-in pharmacist is awesome to me. I confess that I have not sat through a single episode of Breaking Bad, but I hear the series is uniformly fantastic, and I believe that White is never as funny as he is in this 30-second ad. Kudos also, I guess, go out to Esurance for plugging another company, Pontiac, even though I'm not sure if they still make Aztecs.
1) Doritos, "Middle Seat"
I'll say this from the get-go: Partially I'm naming this #1 because the guy who made it attended my alma mater. But don't tell me this commercial wasn't funny. Everybody can relate to the point when the middle seat in an airplane next to you is filled by someone. So this guy does all he can to keep that seat open (leafing through the book about Irritable Bowel Syndrome is a kick) so he (and don't forget the guy in the window seat!) can have a little more room. But then he spies this real hot chick, and so he puts away the IBS book, the tissue he blows into, the dental floss and the nail clipper and flashes that smile that says, "Hey, you can slip into my middle seat!" Unfortunately he forgot to wait for the guy in front of that chick to move ahead. Otherwise he would've seen that the hot chick has her child attached in front of her. And mothers with toddlers are the worst people to be seated next to, especially if they're in the middle seat.
One other thing to remind you: This comes from Doritos, which once again is utilizing its "Crash the Super Bowl" campaign where they have people upload spots they made (with Doritos branding, of course), and they pay the ad buy in the Super Bowl for the commercial that gets the most votes. Once again, Doritos proves that you don't need to pay an ad agency millions of dollars to produce the best commercial of the Super Bowl.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Addendum To: Just My Bad Luck
OK, so about that Sports Jeopardy! online audition/test that I was late for? Well, I received an e-mail from them Saturday that they in fact had technical difficulties. Oh, so it's not my fault!
There will be a make-up test Wednesday the 3rd. I was hoping my ATF ***e* could clean my house (and then me, wink-wink) then. So, hmmm ... a handjob or cash and prizes? Decisions, decisions. ...
There will be a make-up test Wednesday the 3rd. I was hoping my ATF ***e* could clean my house (and then me, wink-wink) then. So, hmmm ... a handjob or cash and prizes? Decisions, decisions. ...
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Here It Goes Again
I clipped the title from OK Go's first big hit because it seemed apropos for this blog post and because I just saw them on CBS this morning. Can't say I'm a fan, but I like them.
So I ate at Hooters last night, and since I am rarely there for their Happy Hour, I took in their fried pickles and their Lots-A-Tots, the two most-discounted items on their Happy Hour menu. I thought I could eat them both. Ugh. I think it took me over an hour to finally finish the tater tots, and I felt like shit afterward.
Why do I do this to myself -- constantly eat and eat and eat until I can't eat no more? I'm not the metabolism machine I was two or even one decade ago. And so I woke up fat and miserable.
And now I have all this fruit I have to eat. Most of the bananas are already spoiling, and my parents just bought a whole bunch. Do they think I'm going to subsist on fruit for an entire week?! I'll have to throw some of this shit out because I'll have a hankering for fast food. What a waste.
At least I was able to shit. That's the only upside I can see in all of this.
So I ate at Hooters last night, and since I am rarely there for their Happy Hour, I took in their fried pickles and their Lots-A-Tots, the two most-discounted items on their Happy Hour menu. I thought I could eat them both. Ugh. I think it took me over an hour to finally finish the tater tots, and I felt like shit afterward.
Why do I do this to myself -- constantly eat and eat and eat until I can't eat no more? I'm not the metabolism machine I was two or even one decade ago. And so I woke up fat and miserable.
And now I have all this fruit I have to eat. Most of the bananas are already spoiling, and my parents just bought a whole bunch. Do they think I'm going to subsist on fruit for an entire week?! I'll have to throw some of this shit out because I'll have a hankering for fast food. What a waste.
At least I was able to shit. That's the only upside I can see in all of this.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Three Days
Realized that I have not showered in three days. Did it Monday night but decided that meant I could skip Tuesday. Then Wednesday night I was watching the last Letterman, and I was too stunned that I was watching history to do anything else besides watch TV.
Sprinkled throughout that was My Father's surprise of a cruise. They're taking off for Europe, again, and so I've had to help him map out what to do while the ship is at port. The bright side is that he seems genuinely thankful for my help. He's been quite nice to me, in fact. But that meant that as soon as I got home Tuesday and Wednesday night I immediately needed to show My Father where exactly he needs to go and what types of public transportation he'll need to use. That took about a half-hour each night. Probably would've watched Letterman (got home around 10:30 both nights), but I ostensibly would've had time to shower after his shows. Just got too tired, and once midnight rolled around I saw my daily blog post as a priority and so I did that (and surfed on the Internet) before conking off.
So now it's been three days and counting, and I even I think I stink. Oh, who am I kidding -- if my parents weren't here, and if I didn't think they've noticed that I haven't showered in three days, I'd stay away from the shower as long as they're gone. I think they've either been too busy or too happy with me "pleasing" them to pipe up. Nevertheless, I should go take a shower now.
Sprinkled throughout that was My Father's surprise of a cruise. They're taking off for Europe, again, and so I've had to help him map out what to do while the ship is at port. The bright side is that he seems genuinely thankful for my help. He's been quite nice to me, in fact. But that meant that as soon as I got home Tuesday and Wednesday night I immediately needed to show My Father where exactly he needs to go and what types of public transportation he'll need to use. That took about a half-hour each night. Probably would've watched Letterman (got home around 10:30 both nights), but I ostensibly would've had time to shower after his shows. Just got too tired, and once midnight rolled around I saw my daily blog post as a priority and so I did that (and surfed on the Internet) before conking off.
So now it's been three days and counting, and I even I think I stink. Oh, who am I kidding -- if my parents weren't here, and if I didn't think they've noticed that I haven't showered in three days, I'd stay away from the shower as long as they're gone. I think they've either been too busy or too happy with me "pleasing" them to pipe up. Nevertheless, I should go take a shower now.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1). Do you remember the "Got To See 'Em!" ad campaign? This was a few years after their "Get To Know 'Em!" campaign in the early-to-mid nineties, when they became known and became, well, good. Those "Got To See 'Em!" players heralded the Renaissance of the Twinks in the early years of this millennium. And with the way they're going, we are seeing the echo of that boom.
It's a 4-2 week for the team holding down the top (and soon-to-be only) spot in the WMNSS, which they capped with a two-game sweep at Pittsburgh. Congratulations to Joe Mauer, who got off the Home Run schneid with a blast to Center Field to give the Twins the 4-3 win (last) Wednesday night.
Right now they are stalking the two best teams in what has become a pretty good American League Central, Kansas City and Detroit. Maybe more importantly, right now they are a few games clear of what currently are the dregs of the division, the White Sox and Cleveland. If the lineup keeps hitting, the defense maintains its vast improvement, the starting pitching remains decent and the bullpen remains hot (probably the biggest fact in the team's turnaround this young season), the organization's best days will certainly be ahead of them.
They visit the White Sox this weekend, then begin a three-game series against Boston Memorial Day.
#-2: Timberwolves (Re-Entry!). I should be happier that the Woofie Dogs, with the worst record in the NBA, actually got the first pick in the draft. They have never improved their record in the lottery, but they often have gotten worse. And with them having the worst record, the only way they could go was down. That the ping-pong balls went according to probabilities means that there is a God, and that God does not hate the Timberwolves.
So why in the hell am I afraid they're going to fuck this up? Because these are the Wolves, and they always fuck things up. It appears as if this is a two-man draft (which would have meant in previous years that Minnesota would have slipped into the third spot, but again, God had mercy on the Wolves), and it looks as though the mockers are coalescing around them picking Karl Anthony-Towns out of Kentucky. The scuttlebutt, however, is that General Manager and Head Coach Flip Saunders is quite enamored with Duke's Jahlil Okafor.
Here's the contrast between the two. Okafor is the better player now while Anthony-Towns (KAT for short) has the better potential and may be better later. Okafor has the better offensive game but has been too fat to help out on the defensive side. KAT, meanwhile, already has a sound rim protection/shot-blocking game and projects to be better all-around. One of them has been compared to Tim Duncan, but I've done so much research I forgot which one it is.
My take? First of all, people are hyping this upcoming draft as the best one in the modern age. I thought last year's draft was the best one in the modern age. Recency bias, perhaps? Frankly, I'm not smitten with either, and I'll wait to see if the hype over this draft crop is better than last year's. I saw Okafor get beaten like a bitch from Frank Kaminsky, of all people, so I'm afraid he'll be too lazy to translate to the NBA game. Also, he needs some work, especially with speed, and I don't know if he'll be able to learn with the T-Wolves. KAT has the upside, but I hold the fact that The Best Freshman Class In College Basketball History failed to win a title and didn't even make it to the championship game.
Nevertheless, I go with KAT. They need a defensive presence that'll replace the too-often-injured Nikola Pekovic ... assuming, of course, Saunders will actually preach defense. I'm really scared, however, that the Wolves will draft Okafor and he becomes a bust. Hell, I think KAT may be mistreated with the way this franchise is run. So, yeah, I guess I'm skeptical of how the Woofs will improve their team, because they're the anti-Midas; their touch turns gold to dust.
#-Infinity: Gopher softball and Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3 and -2, respectively). Both University of Minnesota diamonds sports end their seasons in the same survey, one in nail-biting fashion, one as if they were embarrassed to play. And thus the 2014-5 U. sports year ends with one thrilling championship (women's hockey, redeeming all of us), a couple of very promising programs (softball and football), two very puzzling flameouts (men's basketball and men's hockey) and a blown chance (wrestling). Guess you can't realistically ask for better.
First the obit for softball, which did all it could before getting eliminated Sunday night in Tucson against regional host and national 12-seed Arizona. The Wildcats ticked the Gophers' first loss after the U. beat New Mexico St., necessitating a second meeting (and second win) over the Aggies. That meant that they had to beat Arizona twice to advance to next week's super regional.
And they did beat Arizona -- once. The Wildcats took a 2-1 lead into the bottom of the seventh (remember that whenever two teams have a rematch in a regional, they switch the home and away teams; thus the Gophers were the home team), but the U. managed to load the bases, and with one out, Paige Palkovich launched her second grand slam of the season into left field to give Minnesota a 5-2 win and force a second game Sunday evening.
That rubber match may be the most exciting loss in Gopher softball program history, maybe even moreso than the ones they survived in the regional they hosted last year. There were four lead changes in the game. The U. went up 2-0 before trailing 4-2 going into the seventh. In the top of the seventh and with the team down to its final out, Hannah Granger hit an RBI single, then Taylor LeMay cranked a three-run shot out of the stadium, giving the Gophers a 6-4 lead.
Unfortunately, the Wildcats battled back in the home half of the seventh, courtesy of a two-run homer by Chelsea Goodacre. They managed to put runners on first and second with nobody out, but managed to send the game to extra innings with a double play and a diving catch by Palkovich in left. If she doesn't make that catch, the runner on third trots home and ends the game in seven.
Sadly, Arizona ended it in eight. The Gophers left two on in the top of the inning, and Kellie Fox ended the game, and the team's season, with an RBI single. The final score was 7-6 in eight innings, versus a team the Gophers seriously should not have played this early in the tournament. If I were more of a die-hard fan I'd be pissed at the draw.
Nevertheless the squad finished with a record of 49-11, tied for its best ever. Seven seniors, the vanguard of what appears to be a Renaissance for the program, won 160 games and lost 64; the winning percentage of .714 is the best for a Gopher senior class. And it feels like Jessica Allister has laid the groundwork for a solid, if not conference-contending, program year after year. Things are looking up, and I would like to believe regionals will be an annual occurrence for this club.
Meanwhile, the Gopher baseball team appears to be in a serious funk. They finished the season winning two of three against Michigan St. at beautiful Siebert Field, but they needed Nebraska to get swept at the hands of Big Ten regular season champions Illinois, and that didn't happen.
Therefore, their season ended Sunday, a game I was able to attend. And with the important fate of which eight teams will make the conference tournament (being held this weekend at Target Field; I am hoping to see all the games this weekend, weather permitting) decided (although the exact seed for the Spartans was not until the season was over Sunday afternoon), both teams wasted no time in getting through it. It looked as if every single batter, as well as the home ump, had planes to catch; they were swinging at the quasi-meatballs thrown as the first pitch, and it looked like the ump expanded the strike zone to the size of Rebel Wilson. It was just as hilarious, too. The irony was that after the second inning the game was tied at 1; they were speeding their way towards extra innings if they weren't careful. Luckily for all involved, First Baseman Austin Athmann doubled in Shortstop Michael Handel (named team Most Valuable Player and all-B1G Second Team) in the sixth inning and Minnesota "held on" for a 2-1 victory that took an hour and 52 minutes to complete.
But now the questions come. It looks as though the money from the flush Big Ten Network is being used to fatten up some non-revenue sports; lacrosse comes to mind. Baseball too, because that sport (as well as lacrosse) fill content in the spring season, when football and basketball are at rest. Nothing brings ratings like good teams, and now it looks like the B1G has better ones -- Indiana with Kyle Schwarber, and now fifth(?)-ranked Illinois and Iowa possibly being the class of the conference for now.
The Gophers should be up there as well. After all, they have a brand-new stadium and a legendary Manager in John Anderson. And yet they have been moribund for several seasons now. What's the problem? Seriously, why isn't this team better? Is the problem Anderson? Does the program need a new guide to go along with the new stadium? I see no answer that makes more sense.
It's a 4-2 week for the team holding down the top (and soon-to-be only) spot in the WMNSS, which they capped with a two-game sweep at Pittsburgh. Congratulations to Joe Mauer, who got off the Home Run schneid with a blast to Center Field to give the Twins the 4-3 win (last) Wednesday night.
Right now they are stalking the two best teams in what has become a pretty good American League Central, Kansas City and Detroit. Maybe more importantly, right now they are a few games clear of what currently are the dregs of the division, the White Sox and Cleveland. If the lineup keeps hitting, the defense maintains its vast improvement, the starting pitching remains decent and the bullpen remains hot (probably the biggest fact in the team's turnaround this young season), the organization's best days will certainly be ahead of them.
They visit the White Sox this weekend, then begin a three-game series against Boston Memorial Day.
#-2: Timberwolves (Re-Entry!). I should be happier that the Woofie Dogs, with the worst record in the NBA, actually got the first pick in the draft. They have never improved their record in the lottery, but they often have gotten worse. And with them having the worst record, the only way they could go was down. That the ping-pong balls went according to probabilities means that there is a God, and that God does not hate the Timberwolves.
So why in the hell am I afraid they're going to fuck this up? Because these are the Wolves, and they always fuck things up. It appears as if this is a two-man draft (which would have meant in previous years that Minnesota would have slipped into the third spot, but again, God had mercy on the Wolves), and it looks as though the mockers are coalescing around them picking Karl Anthony-Towns out of Kentucky. The scuttlebutt, however, is that General Manager and Head Coach Flip Saunders is quite enamored with Duke's Jahlil Okafor.
Here's the contrast between the two. Okafor is the better player now while Anthony-Towns (KAT for short) has the better potential and may be better later. Okafor has the better offensive game but has been too fat to help out on the defensive side. KAT, meanwhile, already has a sound rim protection/shot-blocking game and projects to be better all-around. One of them has been compared to Tim Duncan, but I've done so much research I forgot which one it is.
My take? First of all, people are hyping this upcoming draft as the best one in the modern age. I thought last year's draft was the best one in the modern age. Recency bias, perhaps? Frankly, I'm not smitten with either, and I'll wait to see if the hype over this draft crop is better than last year's. I saw Okafor get beaten like a bitch from Frank Kaminsky, of all people, so I'm afraid he'll be too lazy to translate to the NBA game. Also, he needs some work, especially with speed, and I don't know if he'll be able to learn with the T-Wolves. KAT has the upside, but I hold the fact that The Best Freshman Class In College Basketball History failed to win a title and didn't even make it to the championship game.
Nevertheless, I go with KAT. They need a defensive presence that'll replace the too-often-injured Nikola Pekovic ... assuming, of course, Saunders will actually preach defense. I'm really scared, however, that the Wolves will draft Okafor and he becomes a bust. Hell, I think KAT may be mistreated with the way this franchise is run. So, yeah, I guess I'm skeptical of how the Woofs will improve their team, because they're the anti-Midas; their touch turns gold to dust.
#-Infinity: Gopher softball and Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3 and -2, respectively). Both University of Minnesota diamonds sports end their seasons in the same survey, one in nail-biting fashion, one as if they were embarrassed to play. And thus the 2014-5 U. sports year ends with one thrilling championship (women's hockey, redeeming all of us), a couple of very promising programs (softball and football), two very puzzling flameouts (men's basketball and men's hockey) and a blown chance (wrestling). Guess you can't realistically ask for better.
First the obit for softball, which did all it could before getting eliminated Sunday night in Tucson against regional host and national 12-seed Arizona. The Wildcats ticked the Gophers' first loss after the U. beat New Mexico St., necessitating a second meeting (and second win) over the Aggies. That meant that they had to beat Arizona twice to advance to next week's super regional.
And they did beat Arizona -- once. The Wildcats took a 2-1 lead into the bottom of the seventh (remember that whenever two teams have a rematch in a regional, they switch the home and away teams; thus the Gophers were the home team), but the U. managed to load the bases, and with one out, Paige Palkovich launched her second grand slam of the season into left field to give Minnesota a 5-2 win and force a second game Sunday evening.
That rubber match may be the most exciting loss in Gopher softball program history, maybe even moreso than the ones they survived in the regional they hosted last year. There were four lead changes in the game. The U. went up 2-0 before trailing 4-2 going into the seventh. In the top of the seventh and with the team down to its final out, Hannah Granger hit an RBI single, then Taylor LeMay cranked a three-run shot out of the stadium, giving the Gophers a 6-4 lead.
Unfortunately, the Wildcats battled back in the home half of the seventh, courtesy of a two-run homer by Chelsea Goodacre. They managed to put runners on first and second with nobody out, but managed to send the game to extra innings with a double play and a diving catch by Palkovich in left. If she doesn't make that catch, the runner on third trots home and ends the game in seven.
Sadly, Arizona ended it in eight. The Gophers left two on in the top of the inning, and Kellie Fox ended the game, and the team's season, with an RBI single. The final score was 7-6 in eight innings, versus a team the Gophers seriously should not have played this early in the tournament. If I were more of a die-hard fan I'd be pissed at the draw.
Nevertheless the squad finished with a record of 49-11, tied for its best ever. Seven seniors, the vanguard of what appears to be a Renaissance for the program, won 160 games and lost 64; the winning percentage of .714 is the best for a Gopher senior class. And it feels like Jessica Allister has laid the groundwork for a solid, if not conference-contending, program year after year. Things are looking up, and I would like to believe regionals will be an annual occurrence for this club.
Meanwhile, the Gopher baseball team appears to be in a serious funk. They finished the season winning two of three against Michigan St. at beautiful Siebert Field, but they needed Nebraska to get swept at the hands of Big Ten regular season champions Illinois, and that didn't happen.
Therefore, their season ended Sunday, a game I was able to attend. And with the important fate of which eight teams will make the conference tournament (being held this weekend at Target Field; I am hoping to see all the games this weekend, weather permitting) decided (although the exact seed for the Spartans was not until the season was over Sunday afternoon), both teams wasted no time in getting through it. It looked as if every single batter, as well as the home ump, had planes to catch; they were swinging at the quasi-meatballs thrown as the first pitch, and it looked like the ump expanded the strike zone to the size of Rebel Wilson. It was just as hilarious, too. The irony was that after the second inning the game was tied at 1; they were speeding their way towards extra innings if they weren't careful. Luckily for all involved, First Baseman Austin Athmann doubled in Shortstop Michael Handel (named team Most Valuable Player and all-B1G Second Team) in the sixth inning and Minnesota "held on" for a 2-1 victory that took an hour and 52 minutes to complete.
But now the questions come. It looks as though the money from the flush Big Ten Network is being used to fatten up some non-revenue sports; lacrosse comes to mind. Baseball too, because that sport (as well as lacrosse) fill content in the spring season, when football and basketball are at rest. Nothing brings ratings like good teams, and now it looks like the B1G has better ones -- Indiana with Kyle Schwarber, and now fifth(?)-ranked Illinois and Iowa possibly being the class of the conference for now.
The Gophers should be up there as well. After all, they have a brand-new stadium and a legendary Manager in John Anderson. And yet they have been moribund for several seasons now. What's the problem? Seriously, why isn't this team better? Is the problem Anderson? Does the program need a new guide to go along with the new stadium? I see no answer that makes more sense.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Just My Bad Luck
So with school freaking me out and me about to be cast off into the unemployment wilderness soon yet again, I'm desperate to find a way to get easy money, and hopefully get famous in the process.
I have a friend from college whose method of contact these days is sending me several e-mails about sweepstakes he enters. I enter them on occasion, but I get the feeling that he does this all day in order to find money to get by. Not making fun of him or anything, but in the last decade I have made it a point not to ask what he is doing for a job nowadays. He, like me, probably is embarrassed the journalism degree has not panned out to a front-of-the-camera job by now. So he's going the sweepstakes route, and I can't say I blame him.
One of these things is not really a sweepstakes, but entry into a game show: Sports Jeopardy!, apparently hosted by Dan Patrick. Last night I read my friend's e-mail that the show is hosting an online audition/test. That's right up my alley. Not only do I know sports, but I love game shows, and (pipe dream) I get to be on TV and hopefully use my brain to win cash and prizes. So this was one of the few times I took my friend up on his quasi-junk e-mails and registered online.
The test started last (Tuesday) night at 9 Central. I thought I had all the time in the world to get to a coffeeshop, plug in and take the test after finishing up early from the night job, which ended last (Tuesday) night. I thought it would end early Tuesday night -- in fact, I didn't think we'd be there more than an hour, which meant I actually would have time to stop by a restaurant, get a quick bite to eat while watching the NBA Draft Lottery (the Timberwolves actually get the #1 pick? God doesn't hate us!), then mosey on over to Caffetto to get some coffee and pie and kick ass on Sports Jeopardy!
One problem: We weren't there just for an hour. I thought I had heard the boss announce the number of papers left to score, and from that I estimated that we barely had enough work to even come in. Well, either she gave the wrong number, I didn't hear her right or I made the wrong calculation, because after she told us how many papers were left to do, we would be there for way more than an hour.
So, in a practice I usually do not do, I actually sped up my production at the end of the project. I had to do my part in order to get out in time to the coffeeshop in order to set myself up for the online audition. My new estimation wasn't good: We would get out at 9, the same exact time as the test. If that were the case, at least I would be assured that I wouldn't have time to even take the test.
But unfortunately we got out at 8:30, the magic hour where I may or may not be too late, goddammit. As soon as my boss let us go, I hauled ass to my car and out onto the highway. I was looking at my digital car clock and hoping to avoid red lights and slow cars.
I made it about five minutes to 9, so I dashed into Caffetto (where I started this blog post) and before I order, I turn on my computer and get online. And I open up the Sports Jeopardy! e-mail with the link to the audition page, click on the link ... and I wait. And then I get the crash screen. Reason: Too long to respond. That happens when there are so many people on the page they can't take anymore viewers.
I was too late, apparently way too late. I wonder if I just sauntered onto the site, like, five minutes before the test started if I would be late then, too. Quite possible. Or maybe I'm wishfully thinking that this was some unforeseen blindside and not the Fates wanting to tease me into thinking if I really, really tried I could make it in time so they could screw me over. Yeah, that's probably it.
I have a friend from college whose method of contact these days is sending me several e-mails about sweepstakes he enters. I enter them on occasion, but I get the feeling that he does this all day in order to find money to get by. Not making fun of him or anything, but in the last decade I have made it a point not to ask what he is doing for a job nowadays. He, like me, probably is embarrassed the journalism degree has not panned out to a front-of-the-camera job by now. So he's going the sweepstakes route, and I can't say I blame him.
One of these things is not really a sweepstakes, but entry into a game show: Sports Jeopardy!, apparently hosted by Dan Patrick. Last night I read my friend's e-mail that the show is hosting an online audition/test. That's right up my alley. Not only do I know sports, but I love game shows, and (pipe dream) I get to be on TV and hopefully use my brain to win cash and prizes. So this was one of the few times I took my friend up on his quasi-junk e-mails and registered online.
The test started last (Tuesday) night at 9 Central. I thought I had all the time in the world to get to a coffeeshop, plug in and take the test after finishing up early from the night job, which ended last (Tuesday) night. I thought it would end early Tuesday night -- in fact, I didn't think we'd be there more than an hour, which meant I actually would have time to stop by a restaurant, get a quick bite to eat while watching the NBA Draft Lottery (the Timberwolves actually get the #1 pick? God doesn't hate us!), then mosey on over to Caffetto to get some coffee and pie and kick ass on Sports Jeopardy!
One problem: We weren't there just for an hour. I thought I had heard the boss announce the number of papers left to score, and from that I estimated that we barely had enough work to even come in. Well, either she gave the wrong number, I didn't hear her right or I made the wrong calculation, because after she told us how many papers were left to do, we would be there for way more than an hour.
So, in a practice I usually do not do, I actually sped up my production at the end of the project. I had to do my part in order to get out in time to the coffeeshop in order to set myself up for the online audition. My new estimation wasn't good: We would get out at 9, the same exact time as the test. If that were the case, at least I would be assured that I wouldn't have time to even take the test.
But unfortunately we got out at 8:30, the magic hour where I may or may not be too late, goddammit. As soon as my boss let us go, I hauled ass to my car and out onto the highway. I was looking at my digital car clock and hoping to avoid red lights and slow cars.
I made it about five minutes to 9, so I dashed into Caffetto (where I started this blog post) and before I order, I turn on my computer and get online. And I open up the Sports Jeopardy! e-mail with the link to the audition page, click on the link ... and I wait. And then I get the crash screen. Reason: Too long to respond. That happens when there are so many people on the page they can't take anymore viewers.
I was too late, apparently way too late. I wonder if I just sauntered onto the site, like, five minutes before the test started if I would be late then, too. Quite possible. Or maybe I'm wishfully thinking that this was some unforeseen blindside and not the Fates wanting to tease me into thinking if I really, really tried I could make it in time so they could screw me over. Yeah, that's probably it.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Back To The Panic
I knew the end of the night project was going to come soon. I initially thought it would be the end of this week, just before Memorial Weekend. But as usual when it comes to math projects, they got done way sooner than the projected end date.
And last (Monday) night the bottom fell out: We have been working so fast and so well that we have run ourselves out of work. We are done tonight, Tuesday night, and at the rate we've been going that will be a very short night. Hell, I'll probably have time to catch the NBA lottery and see if the Timberwolves get fucked over their spot with the best chance of getting the #1 pick.
It's extra work, and the long hours have gotten in the way of many things (including blogging at a decent hour). But I enjoyed it, and even though it lasted only two weeks, I'm going to miss the project, and the good, funny people I sat with.
Now I have the day job and its itinerant residue of hostility from many people involved. It wasn't like this in the previous room, all ... huffy and aloof. I just get bad vibes from this job. And this is the one I have to rely on for income for now.
But even that is going to end sooner than I thought. I was told it was going to end the end of June. But lo and behold, I went past a sheet that they put up and the new end date is two weeks earlier. That's fucking news to me!
So the end is a lot nearer than I hoped it would be, and I am in full-blown panic. I have to worry about finding work again, or avoiding my parents knowing I'm back on the dole. This also hastens me probably going back to school, if only for a class. But it's all so overwhelming right now. I don't have a job lined up, and none of the classes look appetizing. But I have to make a decision, because time is running out for me.
It's just ... all too much. Why can't I just lie in bed all day and not worry about making money? Why can't I ... just be, man?
And last (Monday) night the bottom fell out: We have been working so fast and so well that we have run ourselves out of work. We are done tonight, Tuesday night, and at the rate we've been going that will be a very short night. Hell, I'll probably have time to catch the NBA lottery and see if the Timberwolves get fucked over their spot with the best chance of getting the #1 pick.
It's extra work, and the long hours have gotten in the way of many things (including blogging at a decent hour). But I enjoyed it, and even though it lasted only two weeks, I'm going to miss the project, and the good, funny people I sat with.
Now I have the day job and its itinerant residue of hostility from many people involved. It wasn't like this in the previous room, all ... huffy and aloof. I just get bad vibes from this job. And this is the one I have to rely on for income for now.
But even that is going to end sooner than I thought. I was told it was going to end the end of June. But lo and behold, I went past a sheet that they put up and the new end date is two weeks earlier. That's fucking news to me!
So the end is a lot nearer than I hoped it would be, and I am in full-blown panic. I have to worry about finding work again, or avoiding my parents knowing I'm back on the dole. This also hastens me probably going back to school, if only for a class. But it's all so overwhelming right now. I don't have a job lined up, and none of the classes look appetizing. But I have to make a decision, because time is running out for me.
It's just ... all too much. Why can't I just lie in bed all day and not worry about making money? Why can't I ... just be, man?
Monday, May 18, 2015
Wasted Time
Well, when I talk about how busy I am where I can't do the things I want to, at the time when I bitch about not having the time to do said things, I have to think about times like this evening, and really all Sunday evenings during the summer months, where I really could have gotten out of my ass and done stuff, but didn't.
After dinner I went into my bedroom and watched 60 Minutes. I would've watched The Simpsons, but I got so sleepy that I fell asleep around 6:45, only to wake at 8:15.
Here I came upon a crossroads. There was nothing on TV I wanted to watch, so that left me with a lot of time on my hands. I could've blogged on the Internet, caught up with reconciling my day planner, even read some of the magazines I have lying about. Shit, I could've taken a shower. Did I do any of that? No. I was tooling on my smartphone while listening to Sunday Night Baseball on the radio. That whiled me away through 10 o'clock, where I finally decided to get up ... and change my clothes before lying back down on my bed.
I'm a lazy guy. I admit it. But I haven't even crawled back into bed and I already feel guilty about not doing something sooner. And now it's too late because I have to go to bed now. Fuck me.
After dinner I went into my bedroom and watched 60 Minutes. I would've watched The Simpsons, but I got so sleepy that I fell asleep around 6:45, only to wake at 8:15.
Here I came upon a crossroads. There was nothing on TV I wanted to watch, so that left me with a lot of time on my hands. I could've blogged on the Internet, caught up with reconciling my day planner, even read some of the magazines I have lying about. Shit, I could've taken a shower. Did I do any of that? No. I was tooling on my smartphone while listening to Sunday Night Baseball on the radio. That whiled me away through 10 o'clock, where I finally decided to get up ... and change my clothes before lying back down on my bed.
I'm a lazy guy. I admit it. But I haven't even crawled back into bed and I already feel guilty about not doing something sooner. And now it's too late because I have to go to bed now. Fuck me.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Is It The Car Or Is It The Soccer?
What I have been doing the past couple weekends have been quite enjoyable. Don't exactly know when or what prompted it, but ever since I got my new car, I have gone to downtown Minneapolis early Saturday and Sunday to watch English Premier League soccer. Possibly because I have found a heretofore undiscovered thirst for Bloody Marys, I have left the soccer viewing very, very sleepy. I then proceed to my car, in which I have erected the windshield visor. That usually keeps all of the sunlight out, when then keeps the car relatively cool -- sleeping weather. And since this is the weekend, and in downtown Minneapolis where there's no one around, I crawl into the passenger-side seat and take a nap.
I've done it for the past three or four weekend days now, and it's fantastic. I thought being able to sleep in for at least an hour or during the weekend helps me catch up on my sleep debt, but I guess my body soon gets tired because of the vodka in the Bloody Mary. After about 20 or 30 minutes I feel so rejuvenated that I can get through the rest of my day, which isn't too stressful because it's the weekend.
I wonder if the new car helps. It's not as roomy as the old car, and the seat is very arched, so that whenever I fully recline and lay down, the middle of my spine thrusts out unnaturally. Nevertheless I have received incredibly restful naps. Maybe the arched seat the lack of room is good for naps? Or maybe it's something else? Or maybe it's the car? Or maybe I'm feeling so tired because of the alcohol?
Kind of did something different today. Parked at a bar's parking ramp, so I don't think I could've just crawled into my car and slept there. Instead I went to Burger King to put non-alcoholic stuff in me. But I was still tired by the time I got to BK, so seeing the parking lot largely empty, I turned off the car and, in the driver's seat, reclined it and closed my eyes. Fifteen-to-twenty minutes later I came to.
Napping is awesome. Unfortunately it does come with a price, an actual one. I love going to watch soccer in pubs, I really do. But this is one of the things I talk about when complaining about money going through my fingers. This is eating out, a lot. Heck, did I really need Burger King after eating a Bloody Mary and a sandwich this morning? Probably not, but what's done is done. And I really shouldn't complain because I am going to catch Game 7 of the series between the Houston Rockets and the Los Angeles Clippers shortly after this at a bar, where I will drink and probably eat.
You know, there's an art show going on this weekend and I have a few acquaintances who are participating. I should be going to there, instead of rooting around the Internet and catching up on expenses, or watching sports on TV, or falling asleep in a car after watching soccer. Choices, choices. ...
I've done it for the past three or four weekend days now, and it's fantastic. I thought being able to sleep in for at least an hour or during the weekend helps me catch up on my sleep debt, but I guess my body soon gets tired because of the vodka in the Bloody Mary. After about 20 or 30 minutes I feel so rejuvenated that I can get through the rest of my day, which isn't too stressful because it's the weekend.
I wonder if the new car helps. It's not as roomy as the old car, and the seat is very arched, so that whenever I fully recline and lay down, the middle of my spine thrusts out unnaturally. Nevertheless I have received incredibly restful naps. Maybe the arched seat the lack of room is good for naps? Or maybe it's something else? Or maybe it's the car? Or maybe I'm feeling so tired because of the alcohol?
Kind of did something different today. Parked at a bar's parking ramp, so I don't think I could've just crawled into my car and slept there. Instead I went to Burger King to put non-alcoholic stuff in me. But I was still tired by the time I got to BK, so seeing the parking lot largely empty, I turned off the car and, in the driver's seat, reclined it and closed my eyes. Fifteen-to-twenty minutes later I came to.
Napping is awesome. Unfortunately it does come with a price, an actual one. I love going to watch soccer in pubs, I really do. But this is one of the things I talk about when complaining about money going through my fingers. This is eating out, a lot. Heck, did I really need Burger King after eating a Bloody Mary and a sandwich this morning? Probably not, but what's done is done. And I really shouldn't complain because I am going to catch Game 7 of the series between the Houston Rockets and the Los Angeles Clippers shortly after this at a bar, where I will drink and probably eat.
You know, there's an art show going on this weekend and I have a few acquaintances who are participating. I should be going to there, instead of rooting around the Internet and catching up on expenses, or watching sports on TV, or falling asleep in a car after watching soccer. Choices, choices. ...
Saturday, May 16, 2015
They Say Caffeine Is An Anti-Diuretic
And I've been subsisting on coffee all week: Two small cups during the day, one larger cup to take me through the night. Last night (Friday night) I went to Caffetto after work to get on the Internet and I got one more cup of coffee.
Therefore, this week, I estimate that I have drank 16 cups of coffee when I usually put down 15. No wonder I shit this week until yesterday after I got home from Caffetto. Actually, I am surprised -- a fourth cup of coffee and I finally experience a bowel movement? But it was a dry one. And light brown, too.
It's as if my excretory system was finally able to relax after a week of work. That's how my spirit feels. I don't think there's anything wrong with me health-wise, although I'm not sure that pooping six days apart is the best thing for your body. Guess I need more fiber. On the upside, I didn't have to waste any time taking a dump when I could be working.
I wonder, though, if this is good for me if this happens next week. On the upside, the night job (the one I'm increasingly loving) is going to be over, so I'll be able to spend an hour in traffic after my day job and then have all evening to eliminate waste.
I can't believe I've been so frank talking about my feces.
Therefore, this week, I estimate that I have drank 16 cups of coffee when I usually put down 15. No wonder I shit this week until yesterday after I got home from Caffetto. Actually, I am surprised -- a fourth cup of coffee and I finally experience a bowel movement? But it was a dry one. And light brown, too.
It's as if my excretory system was finally able to relax after a week of work. That's how my spirit feels. I don't think there's anything wrong with me health-wise, although I'm not sure that pooping six days apart is the best thing for your body. Guess I need more fiber. On the upside, I didn't have to waste any time taking a dump when I could be working.
I wonder, though, if this is good for me if this happens next week. On the upside, the night job (the one I'm increasingly loving) is going to be over, so I'll be able to spend an hour in traffic after my day job and then have all evening to eliminate waste.
I can't believe I've been so frank talking about my feces.
Friday, May 15, 2015
The Differences Between The Two
Yeah, the day job is starting to chafe on me. The other day I was warned not to get cookies until break. What the fuck? This seemed like a really relaxed room -- too relaxed, if you ask me. But I was really falling asleep and needed a sugar rush bad, so I tried to open the box. And then I was told by my boss not to. The hell?
The upshot to that is that he made an announcement, allegedly, not to open them until break time. I didn't hear that message. You see, I have gotten to putting in earplugs when I work because shutting out the ambient noise in the room has helped me to concentrate. But that prevents me from hearing the beginning of his announcements. Compounding that problem is that he doesn't give visual cues as to when he will speak so I can take out the earplugs to hear them. No, he'll just be sitting at his table and then start speaking. Or he'll come in with a plastic plate and turn his head around and his lips will be moving and I'll go, "Oh, shit, he's saying something!" and by the time I take out my earplugs he's finished and I miss what presumably was the announcement that these cookies cannot be eaten before break time, for some fucked-up reason.
I think I'm behind the eight ball with him. I'm also behind my supervisor (who also works for him). There are these essays that I have to grade, and my statistics are not following the pack. My supervisor has told me on more than one occasion that I am an outlier and it's time to grade in line with the others. I find it difficult, to be honest: While many of the essays these kids have blown me away, most of them are just good enough, and so they kind of run into the same score. Initially, that wasn't good enough, so I took direction and tried to score easier. Now I have to score harder. And it is kind of difficult. On the one hand I have held my nose more than several times to give papers something that I really didn't think they deserve but I have been told by my supervisor is what he's looking for. On the other hand I get to be stubborn and I will either give a perfect grade to a sophisticated, well-thought-out essay that I know would be graded lower by someone else or damn a crazy, nonsensical essay that nevertheless checks off all the technical boxes to be better than it should be. Look, I understand that I cannot grade this according to my criteria. And I have graded it according to the state's instead. But if my supervisor has come back to me twice now to tell me that I'm not doing it right, well, I don't know if I will get it right.
Along with the interminable hours grading the same thing and what I kind of perceive as standoffish attitudes from some of the other supervisors, this room isn't as hospitable as I once thought it would be. I think there are enough people who are fed up with me, and frankly, I'm starting to get tired of them. I need the money, so I hope to stick it out. But right now I can see myself getting to the end of the project and not being so anxious about needing to find work again.
---
I contrast that to my night job. It started last week and will more than likely end next week. There isn't much when it comes to solidarity, while in the day job we've been at it, some of us, for a month, and there's at least a month more.
Yet even though I have to drive through hell to get to another job that's four hours long, I feel much better at this job. It's looser, for one thing, and I feel a positive camaraderie, even though I barely know any of the people I'm working with. Therefore, what I thought would be a daily struggle to even stay awake has actually turned into a breeze. I actually gain energy while working there, oddly enough.
This place is closer to home, but doesn't pay as well as the day job. And of course there are more hours available with the day job. Maybe the night job's "underdog" status makes me feel more positive towards it. Or maybe the brevity of the project prevents weird dust-ups like being told when to eat cookies. I just have to say that I am very thankful for the fun I have and the good vibes I feel with the night project, and I'll be sad once the job's done with next week.
The upshot to that is that he made an announcement, allegedly, not to open them until break time. I didn't hear that message. You see, I have gotten to putting in earplugs when I work because shutting out the ambient noise in the room has helped me to concentrate. But that prevents me from hearing the beginning of his announcements. Compounding that problem is that he doesn't give visual cues as to when he will speak so I can take out the earplugs to hear them. No, he'll just be sitting at his table and then start speaking. Or he'll come in with a plastic plate and turn his head around and his lips will be moving and I'll go, "Oh, shit, he's saying something!" and by the time I take out my earplugs he's finished and I miss what presumably was the announcement that these cookies cannot be eaten before break time, for some fucked-up reason.
I think I'm behind the eight ball with him. I'm also behind my supervisor (who also works for him). There are these essays that I have to grade, and my statistics are not following the pack. My supervisor has told me on more than one occasion that I am an outlier and it's time to grade in line with the others. I find it difficult, to be honest: While many of the essays these kids have blown me away, most of them are just good enough, and so they kind of run into the same score. Initially, that wasn't good enough, so I took direction and tried to score easier. Now I have to score harder. And it is kind of difficult. On the one hand I have held my nose more than several times to give papers something that I really didn't think they deserve but I have been told by my supervisor is what he's looking for. On the other hand I get to be stubborn and I will either give a perfect grade to a sophisticated, well-thought-out essay that I know would be graded lower by someone else or damn a crazy, nonsensical essay that nevertheless checks off all the technical boxes to be better than it should be. Look, I understand that I cannot grade this according to my criteria. And I have graded it according to the state's instead. But if my supervisor has come back to me twice now to tell me that I'm not doing it right, well, I don't know if I will get it right.
Along with the interminable hours grading the same thing and what I kind of perceive as standoffish attitudes from some of the other supervisors, this room isn't as hospitable as I once thought it would be. I think there are enough people who are fed up with me, and frankly, I'm starting to get tired of them. I need the money, so I hope to stick it out. But right now I can see myself getting to the end of the project and not being so anxious about needing to find work again.
---
I contrast that to my night job. It started last week and will more than likely end next week. There isn't much when it comes to solidarity, while in the day job we've been at it, some of us, for a month, and there's at least a month more.
Yet even though I have to drive through hell to get to another job that's four hours long, I feel much better at this job. It's looser, for one thing, and I feel a positive camaraderie, even though I barely know any of the people I'm working with. Therefore, what I thought would be a daily struggle to even stay awake has actually turned into a breeze. I actually gain energy while working there, oddly enough.
This place is closer to home, but doesn't pay as well as the day job. And of course there are more hours available with the day job. Maybe the night job's "underdog" status makes me feel more positive towards it. Or maybe the brevity of the project prevents weird dust-ups like being told when to eat cookies. I just have to say that I am very thankful for the fun I have and the good vibes I feel with the night project, and I'll be sad once the job's done with next week.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2). Well, with the Mild done, the Twinks have the professional sports landscape all to themselves. And you know what? They have the makings of an exciting team.
They have improved to four games above .500 (19-15 to be exact) after going 4-2 this week. They have won back-to-back series vs. Oakland and at Cleveland, and after dropping a close 2-1 decision in Detroit Tuesday, Ricky Nolasco of all people and the club did the uncommon thing and beat the Tigers Wednesday evening 6-2.
The big story, besides a rapidly improving bullpen? Torii friggin' Hunter, of all people. The 39-year-old, who I once (and guess still) believe is only with the squad temporarily before being shipped off to a contender before the trade deadline, leads the team in Home Runs. And he has been part of a vast upgrade in outfield defense, going from abysmally awful to just-about mediocre in Ultimate Zone Rating. That a 39-year-old guy could be a main reason a franchise's pro outfield has gotten so much better in UZR may not say much, or it may show how shitty Aaron Hicks is. Whatever the reason, Hunter stands out as a spotlight in a team that are chock full of them.
After playing the rubber match against the Tigers this (Thursday) afternoon, they host Tampa Bay for three games this weekend, then quickly go back out on the road to Pittsburgh, where they have their annual weirdo two-game series against the Pirates Tuesday and Wednesday.
#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). For this survey it's the Twins and then there's everybody else; it makes little sense to give second place to a team that went winless during its screening week, but there is no other team that deserves it. And yes, I am (now) aware that Iowa swept the Goofs down in Iowa City by a combined three-game total of 24-6. And I am (now) also aware that they have an eight-game losing streak.
Still, they have a chance to finish in the top eight of the B1G and advance to next weekend's conference tournament, which will be held at Target Field. It will be next to impossible, of course, but the club will first have to sweep Michigan St. at Siebert Field and then hope that 8th-place Nebraska gets swept at Illinois. Fat chance of that happening.
This will, in all likelihood, be my last chance to catch a Gopher baseball game, so I intend to go the last game of the year, Saturday afternoon at 1. I'm sure the Gophs will be eliminated from tournament play by then, so I'll probably have most of Siebert all to myself. Look forward to it.
#-3: Gopher softball (Last Week: -1). I am putting the U. softball team down here, even lower than a winless U. baseball squad, for what seems to be an inexplicably low placement for the NCAA Tournament. From the bracketology sites I've seen (all one of them), they were absolutely penned in for a regional hosting gig, and they had a puncher's chance of getting lined up for a super regional as well. Instead, they didn't even get a national seed. Instead this team, which arguably is better than last year's team that was seeded and got to host a regional, will in fact travel to Tucson, Ariz. and be a part of 12th-seeded Arizona's regional this weekend.
How did they wind up out of the top 16? Losing their first game of the Big Ten Tournament, a quarterfinal loss to Iowa (where it's single-game knockout, not double-elimination like it traditionally is with most college baseball tourneys), didn't help things. But even that upset loss should not force a program that was knocking on the top 10 in polls down to playing on the road against a traditional softball power like Arizona, which has a fearsome, potent lineup.
The U. starts tournament play (which is double-elimination) Friday evening against New Mexico St.; the Wildcats tussle with St. John's in the other game. Hope and pray that they don't get screwed over by what I figure is a raw deal.
#-Infinity: Wild (Last Week: -4). Well, that absolutely fucking blows. As great of a comeback from the abyss this season was, the Mild were completely laughed out of the Stanley Cup Playoffs by the dreaded Chicago Blackhawks in a fucking four-game sweep. This is certainly not the "next step to take" for this franchise. Progress is beating Chicago, or at least taking this series to six or seven games. But a sweep, and one where the talent gap was starker than some periods of play during the series indicate?
See, such a result is on hell of a bummer, and definitely not the way you want your season to end. But as much as the defeat weighs on me like an elephant, I do not want to succumb to knee-jerk reactions and go, "Fire Mike Yeo!" Like I said last week, the Blackhawks forwards, in particular Patrick Kane, had the talent and speed to carve through the Wild's defense, and for at least this series, Corey Crawford inexplicably had the better of Devan Dubnyk. And that's why this organization has been eliminated from the postseason.
So, what now? I don't see how or why you would blow up the team. They have a bunch of veterans on large, almost onerous contracts (Zach Parise, Ryan Suter, Jason Pominville, Thomas Vanek) that will be very difficult to trade away, and they also have a solid core of youngsters (Charlie Coyle, Marco Scandella, Jason Zucker, Jared Spurgeon) who, Buddha willing, will only get better next year. You can't change/improve the club because of the former, and you shouldn't change/improve the club because of the latter. This team is kind of stuck.
So what can General Manager Chuck Fletcher do? Well, he has to clear the brush between the pipes. Even if you believe Dubnyk just enjoyed a Cinderella-like season and will revert nastily to form next season, you can't just go back to Darcy Kuemper and assume everything will be like 2014. Dubnyk saved this team's ass this season, and so he will get some money and be named the #1 Goalie. Nicklas Backstrom, a stalwart Goaltender and possibly the best netminder the organization has ever had, will probably be bought out and given a gold watch. Josh Harding, according to many reports, will retire because of his multiple sclerosis. At this point, Fletch should trade Kuemper and elevate John Curry to be the #2.
Then it gets hard. Kyle Brodziak will probably get third-line money somewhere else even though he's a fourth-liner on the Wild. Suter, Pominville, and Vanek all had shitty seasons. Do you trim a bit off the top and trade one of those grizzled veterans, maybe in exchange for a role player and a future draft pick? Or do you roll the dice and trade one of the young guns -- say the wiry and oft-injured Granlund -- and get a really good scorer, which was surely lacking in the series versus Chicago? They are about $10 million under the cap, which means the only way to spur turnover in the club is through trade. But as much as fans are going to hold their nose if Fletcher makes no moves, I kind of see how making moves for their own sake could in fact make this team even worse.
Yes, the series was an embarrassment. But isn't it possible the Wild just faced the Blackhawks when the Blackhawks were hot? If so, maybe these teams just need to face each other, intact, next year. And maybe then it wouldn't end in a sweep. A large part of that depends on if Fletcher keeps the team as is, and if not, who are the players to go?
They have improved to four games above .500 (19-15 to be exact) after going 4-2 this week. They have won back-to-back series vs. Oakland and at Cleveland, and after dropping a close 2-1 decision in Detroit Tuesday, Ricky Nolasco of all people and the club did the uncommon thing and beat the Tigers Wednesday evening 6-2.
The big story, besides a rapidly improving bullpen? Torii friggin' Hunter, of all people. The 39-year-old, who I once (and guess still) believe is only with the squad temporarily before being shipped off to a contender before the trade deadline, leads the team in Home Runs. And he has been part of a vast upgrade in outfield defense, going from abysmally awful to just-about mediocre in Ultimate Zone Rating. That a 39-year-old guy could be a main reason a franchise's pro outfield has gotten so much better in UZR may not say much, or it may show how shitty Aaron Hicks is. Whatever the reason, Hunter stands out as a spotlight in a team that are chock full of them.
After playing the rubber match against the Tigers this (Thursday) afternoon, they host Tampa Bay for three games this weekend, then quickly go back out on the road to Pittsburgh, where they have their annual weirdo two-game series against the Pirates Tuesday and Wednesday.
#-2: Gopher baseball (Last Week: -3). For this survey it's the Twins and then there's everybody else; it makes little sense to give second place to a team that went winless during its screening week, but there is no other team that deserves it. And yes, I am (now) aware that Iowa swept the Goofs down in Iowa City by a combined three-game total of 24-6. And I am (now) also aware that they have an eight-game losing streak.
Still, they have a chance to finish in the top eight of the B1G and advance to next weekend's conference tournament, which will be held at Target Field. It will be next to impossible, of course, but the club will first have to sweep Michigan St. at Siebert Field and then hope that 8th-place Nebraska gets swept at Illinois. Fat chance of that happening.
This will, in all likelihood, be my last chance to catch a Gopher baseball game, so I intend to go the last game of the year, Saturday afternoon at 1. I'm sure the Gophs will be eliminated from tournament play by then, so I'll probably have most of Siebert all to myself. Look forward to it.
#-3: Gopher softball (Last Week: -1). I am putting the U. softball team down here, even lower than a winless U. baseball squad, for what seems to be an inexplicably low placement for the NCAA Tournament. From the bracketology sites I've seen (all one of them), they were absolutely penned in for a regional hosting gig, and they had a puncher's chance of getting lined up for a super regional as well. Instead, they didn't even get a national seed. Instead this team, which arguably is better than last year's team that was seeded and got to host a regional, will in fact travel to Tucson, Ariz. and be a part of 12th-seeded Arizona's regional this weekend.
How did they wind up out of the top 16? Losing their first game of the Big Ten Tournament, a quarterfinal loss to Iowa (where it's single-game knockout, not double-elimination like it traditionally is with most college baseball tourneys), didn't help things. But even that upset loss should not force a program that was knocking on the top 10 in polls down to playing on the road against a traditional softball power like Arizona, which has a fearsome, potent lineup.
The U. starts tournament play (which is double-elimination) Friday evening against New Mexico St.; the Wildcats tussle with St. John's in the other game. Hope and pray that they don't get screwed over by what I figure is a raw deal.
#-Infinity: Wild (Last Week: -4). Well, that absolutely fucking blows. As great of a comeback from the abyss this season was, the Mild were completely laughed out of the Stanley Cup Playoffs by the dreaded Chicago Blackhawks in a fucking four-game sweep. This is certainly not the "next step to take" for this franchise. Progress is beating Chicago, or at least taking this series to six or seven games. But a sweep, and one where the talent gap was starker than some periods of play during the series indicate?
See, such a result is on hell of a bummer, and definitely not the way you want your season to end. But as much as the defeat weighs on me like an elephant, I do not want to succumb to knee-jerk reactions and go, "Fire Mike Yeo!" Like I said last week, the Blackhawks forwards, in particular Patrick Kane, had the talent and speed to carve through the Wild's defense, and for at least this series, Corey Crawford inexplicably had the better of Devan Dubnyk. And that's why this organization has been eliminated from the postseason.
So, what now? I don't see how or why you would blow up the team. They have a bunch of veterans on large, almost onerous contracts (Zach Parise, Ryan Suter, Jason Pominville, Thomas Vanek) that will be very difficult to trade away, and they also have a solid core of youngsters (Charlie Coyle, Marco Scandella, Jason Zucker, Jared Spurgeon) who, Buddha willing, will only get better next year. You can't change/improve the club because of the former, and you shouldn't change/improve the club because of the latter. This team is kind of stuck.
So what can General Manager Chuck Fletcher do? Well, he has to clear the brush between the pipes. Even if you believe Dubnyk just enjoyed a Cinderella-like season and will revert nastily to form next season, you can't just go back to Darcy Kuemper and assume everything will be like 2014. Dubnyk saved this team's ass this season, and so he will get some money and be named the #1 Goalie. Nicklas Backstrom, a stalwart Goaltender and possibly the best netminder the organization has ever had, will probably be bought out and given a gold watch. Josh Harding, according to many reports, will retire because of his multiple sclerosis. At this point, Fletch should trade Kuemper and elevate John Curry to be the #2.
Then it gets hard. Kyle Brodziak will probably get third-line money somewhere else even though he's a fourth-liner on the Wild. Suter, Pominville, and Vanek all had shitty seasons. Do you trim a bit off the top and trade one of those grizzled veterans, maybe in exchange for a role player and a future draft pick? Or do you roll the dice and trade one of the young guns -- say the wiry and oft-injured Granlund -- and get a really good scorer, which was surely lacking in the series versus Chicago? They are about $10 million under the cap, which means the only way to spur turnover in the club is through trade. But as much as fans are going to hold their nose if Fletcher makes no moves, I kind of see how making moves for their own sake could in fact make this team even worse.
Yes, the series was an embarrassment. But isn't it possible the Wild just faced the Blackhawks when the Blackhawks were hot? If so, maybe these teams just need to face each other, intact, next year. And maybe then it wouldn't end in a sweep. A large part of that depends on if Fletcher keeps the team as is, and if not, who are the players to go?
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
My 2014 Playboy Playmate Review
The luncheon for the announcement of Playmate Of The Year is Thursday. (Why isn't this being held on a weekend?) There probably has been leaks about who won already, and of course the PMOY knows. But I still want to throw in my two cents on what I think about the dozen Playmates from last year and who I think should win it.
That being said, I don't remember much of last year. With all the bookstores with the adult back sections gone, I now go online, which is much more accessible anyway. The downside is is that no longer are leafing through pictorials a thing you can kill an afternoon at. You can take it or leave it anytime you're on the Internet, and so my mind often slips whenever I surf for porn. With so much hardcore stuff out there, I often forget whenever the latest issue of Playboy comes out. And that's probably why I don't remember much, or any, of them.
This trend of only looking up PMs online may have started in the middle of last year, because it's the first half of Playmates that I remember. What makes trying to remember the back half of the Playmates from 2014 even more difficult is that they actually don't have an online presence as far as I can tell. Emily Agnes (July), Maggie May (August), Roxanna June (October), and Gia Marie (November) don't have Facebook pages, not even a public fan page. They may have Instagram, and I get the feeling that models use Instagram way more than Facebook (some models may only have Instagram accounts only), but I'm not into Instagram, so following them may be hard for me. Bottom line is, I don't even remember their faces, let alone their ass, tits and twat, so they're out.
The rest are an anonymous lot. None of the other girls I followed on Facebook until Tuesday. I saw Stephanie Branton on a commercial around the Super Bowl, but that's all I remember of her. Elizabeth Ostrander (December) has a husband, so I can't give my PMOY vote to someone who's married. And while Gia Marie (November) is statuesque, something about the fact that "Marie" is her middle name (models who have "Marie" as a last name don't have "Marie" as a real last name) does not make her stand out.
That leaves the first half of 2014. I will say this: I think that the woman named Playmate Of The Year will either be Miss March, Britt Linn, or Miss April, Shanice Jordyn. These two PMs are not cut from the "Girl Next Door" mold. Jordyn is black, and I think that Playboy might want to send a message of not only naming a second-ever African-American PMOY, but also "drafting" one that started off as a College Girl model. I myself don't think she's great shakes. Meanwhile, Linn is picked because of her short hairstyle. Honestly, when I saw her spread in the magazine, I thought I was looking at Justin Bieber. Seriously, look at her!! (Also, she's a new mom too.) No offense, Britt, but I'll pass.
Might as well get down to the brass tacks. I saw the pictorial for Dani Mathers (May) while at a stripper party in the neighborhood. I remember getting hard, but I don't remember seeing her. Jessica Ashley (June) is a college graduate, a double degree from Michigan. But I don't remember seeing her naked.
So that leaves Miss January, Roos van Montfort, and Miss February, Amanda Booth. Booth has this incredible peek-a-boo shot of her twat in her Playboy spread; I love a girl who lifts up her skirt to show us her goods. She is also a wife and mother to a newborn. She chronicled her journey with her child in the couple's Tumblr, which revealed that she is spoken for, twice over. Godspeed to her, and it's cool that she can blog. But married mothers don't fulfill my fantasy.
So Roos van Montfort, Miss January, wins basically by default, although she shows off killer curves, killer boobs and a killer stare in this awesome picture. Unfortunately I have not heard of her at all since the pictorial. And she has set her Facebook to private. That would be a deal-breaker, but again, I haven't paid much attention to the Playmate Of The Year race. We'll see who wins Thursday. But in the meantime, after I publish this I might go to the Yahoo! Groups club and see what the regulars there turn up in terms of news.
Oh, yeah, my customary finishing thought on these Playmates: Of course, I would fuck all of them.
That being said, I don't remember much of last year. With all the bookstores with the adult back sections gone, I now go online, which is much more accessible anyway. The downside is is that no longer are leafing through pictorials a thing you can kill an afternoon at. You can take it or leave it anytime you're on the Internet, and so my mind often slips whenever I surf for porn. With so much hardcore stuff out there, I often forget whenever the latest issue of Playboy comes out. And that's probably why I don't remember much, or any, of them.
This trend of only looking up PMs online may have started in the middle of last year, because it's the first half of Playmates that I remember. What makes trying to remember the back half of the Playmates from 2014 even more difficult is that they actually don't have an online presence as far as I can tell. Emily Agnes (July), Maggie May (August), Roxanna June (October), and Gia Marie (November) don't have Facebook pages, not even a public fan page. They may have Instagram, and I get the feeling that models use Instagram way more than Facebook (some models may only have Instagram accounts only), but I'm not into Instagram, so following them may be hard for me. Bottom line is, I don't even remember their faces, let alone their ass, tits and twat, so they're out.
The rest are an anonymous lot. None of the other girls I followed on Facebook until Tuesday. I saw Stephanie Branton on a commercial around the Super Bowl, but that's all I remember of her. Elizabeth Ostrander (December) has a husband, so I can't give my PMOY vote to someone who's married. And while Gia Marie (November) is statuesque, something about the fact that "Marie" is her middle name (models who have "Marie" as a last name don't have "Marie" as a real last name) does not make her stand out.
That leaves the first half of 2014. I will say this: I think that the woman named Playmate Of The Year will either be Miss March, Britt Linn, or Miss April, Shanice Jordyn. These two PMs are not cut from the "Girl Next Door" mold. Jordyn is black, and I think that Playboy might want to send a message of not only naming a second-ever African-American PMOY, but also "drafting" one that started off as a College Girl model. I myself don't think she's great shakes. Meanwhile, Linn is picked because of her short hairstyle. Honestly, when I saw her spread in the magazine, I thought I was looking at Justin Bieber. Seriously, look at her!! (Also, she's a new mom too.) No offense, Britt, but I'll pass.
Might as well get down to the brass tacks. I saw the pictorial for Dani Mathers (May) while at a stripper party in the neighborhood. I remember getting hard, but I don't remember seeing her. Jessica Ashley (June) is a college graduate, a double degree from Michigan. But I don't remember seeing her naked.
So that leaves Miss January, Roos van Montfort, and Miss February, Amanda Booth. Booth has this incredible peek-a-boo shot of her twat in her Playboy spread; I love a girl who lifts up her skirt to show us her goods. She is also a wife and mother to a newborn. She chronicled her journey with her child in the couple's Tumblr, which revealed that she is spoken for, twice over. Godspeed to her, and it's cool that she can blog. But married mothers don't fulfill my fantasy.
So Roos van Montfort, Miss January, wins basically by default, although she shows off killer curves, killer boobs and a killer stare in this awesome picture. Unfortunately I have not heard of her at all since the pictorial. And she has set her Facebook to private. That would be a deal-breaker, but again, I haven't paid much attention to the Playmate Of The Year race. We'll see who wins Thursday. But in the meantime, after I publish this I might go to the Yahoo! Groups club and see what the regulars there turn up in terms of news.
Oh, yeah, my customary finishing thought on these Playmates: Of course, I would fuck all of them.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Expenses Without Receipts
OK. From Monday, May 11:
- I went to Caribou in the afternoon because I needed to put in my blog post for the day and I wanted a place where I could work and have something to consume, which was a smoothie. Still feels strange to go to a coffeeshop and not get coffee. With tip: 4.99.
- (ETA on 2:20 p.m. on Memorial Day that the next three Expenses Without Receipts were all made on Saturday, May 9.) Minnesota United game. First win of the year, 1-0 over the Atlanta Silverbacks. Went to Living Social to pay for an "experience" for the game, where I not only got a ticket, but also a t-shirt and a chance to watch practice just before the match from the opposing sideline. Wished I had a seat to sit on. Also wished my allergies didn't overwhelm me. It was the first time all season that I was scratching my eyes and blowing my nose like I was gushing snot. Very frustrating. Charged a food truck chicken quesadilla. But the tip was money. That, along with a can of Strongbow with a tip for that came out to: $8.
- Went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division). I initially saw only three girls, and with two of them being five-dollar bitches, and the third getting on the stage shortly after I came in, I thought that it was going to be an extremely quick night: Just tip the girl that I can afford to tip, then leave. But this girl up on stage was someone I hadn't seen in a while, and she's hot, and I haven't gotten a lap dance in a while there, and I need to let them know I wasn't just some pervert. So I got a dance from Tori, and thus a short and cheap stay turned into a slightly longer and much more expensive one. Oh, and there were three girls there, but they brought back in a fourth that had worked earlier in the evening. I paid her two bucks because she is not a five-dollar bitch. That all comes out to: $24.
- Then I finished my evening at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place for a dinner-sized salad and soup. With tip it equals: $9.50.
- On Friday the 8th I got cut from work a half-hour early, which meant I was able to go to a Caribou and surf online real quick. Mind was going crazy because I hadn't eaten food, so I ate an expensive croissant to go with my mocha. With tip: $5.75.
- After work I wanted to go to Caffetto, but the coffeeshop was all full, so I moved up my planned journey to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place. Had enough of a hunger to eat a chicken alfredo pizza. With tip: $16.75.
- Go back to Tuesday the 5th ... Got cut out of work early, so I drove my new car to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) to hang out and see some boobies. Was the first time in about two weeks I've been there. Tips and coffee equal: $11.
- Then went to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place (two times this week after ... a long time not eating there). Just wanted a California burger with fries. With Coke and tip: $6.50.
- Friday/May Day was that hellish day where my old car acted up, probably for the last time on my watch. I had time to burn in the afternoon after bringing the car in, so I took the bus to the nearest library. It straddled rush hour, so even though I came back within the 2 1/2 hours my initial bus transfer gave me, I had to pay the difference once I stepped back into the bus for the return trip: $2.25.
- But it was on that return trip where I fell asleep. When I woke up I soon realized that I had missed my stop. I had to ride all the way to the end and wait a half-hour before the bus started its trip back east and toward the stop I was supposed to get off at. At least the weather was good and sunny for those 30 minutes. And the Park and Ride I was at had some development. There's a bike trail just a few yards away, and a main street close to that. There, there was an ice cream shop called Lost Lake Creamery. Hell, I'll treat myself to a cup of vanilla ice cream. That's always good, especially to bide time. With tip: $3.75.
- When I got back to the shop, they said they couldn't find anything. The only thing they did was replace the radiator cap, which cost me: $10.
- Take it back to Sunday, April 26. Had to go to the library before meeting up with the host of our alumni event. Wanted to print out a list of days that I could show her were available to host. That set me back: 20 cents.
- Then afterwards I had to go back to the library to print out a letter. It was a page, but at this particular county that meant 20 cents, not ten like in the next county over. But I didn't have any coins more than a dime. I got lucky that there is only a pay box; you are on the honor system with this county. And I honored myself to shorting them a dime. Hey, I'll pay them back some other time: 10 cents.
- On Saturday the 25th I went to the Minnesota Roller Girls bout. Didn't get lucky with a guy who just happened to walk by with extra tickets, so I had to pay for one. With beer and tip: $21.
- Afterwards I went to My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place to celebrate the MNRG kicking Chicago's ass (at least Minnesota can beat Chicago in something!). I think I had spaghetti. With tip it came out to: $12.50.
- Friday, April 24 ... that was the day I got the extensions for my new insoles. The orthopedist (?) waited to put these in because he thought I needed to get used to walking around the rest of the new insoles first. These extensions were put on top of the insoles and both give my feet arch support while walking and provide extra comfort just behind the balls of both of my feet. And I can tell you that my feet feel so much better now. Anyway, I was looking for a place to work on my computer before heading in, but there was no coffee place nearby this orthopedist (?). But as I was doubling back I saw this place called Hans' Bakery. You mean the one just like the one close to the mechanic that's close to ****e*? Yes, it's the same one. But now I think I know the whole story. This Hans' Bakery was around for a long time until it closed. Several years ago a couple that lived in the area bought the place, bought brand-new equipment, took the recipes from Hans, and re-opened the place. I don't know this for sure, but I believe they then opened up another Hans' Bakery over by the mechanic and ****e*. Funny how I just happened to stumble across both branches of Hans' Bakery in the course of a month, neither of which I probably would have seen, let alone eaten, if not for fortuitous circumstances. Unfortunately their Internet didn't work, so I couldn't go on the computer. Had a donut, a bismarck and apple juice. With tip it came out to just: $5.
- Caribou that day, for a medium mocha. Have the receipt for it, but I'll
through(ETA at 12: 37 a.m. on May 18 that I totally meant to say "throw") it in here as an EWR just to be safe. With tip: $5. - On Thursday the 23rd I was sneaking in a visit to my shrink. Had coffee at the Starbucks nearby first. Grande mocha with tip: $4.95.
- I then apparently went to Caribou this day as well, also for another medium mocha. This might be a repeat, but I'll put it in here just in case. With tip: $4.75.
- Wednesday, April 22 -- had to go to the library because I needed to print out a receipt that Dell sent my parents for a huge TV they got for their condo in Las Vegas. Tax purposes, I guess. Surprised that companies do that. Should I be surprised? Total for the printout: 20 cents.
- I started Tuesday the 21st (and this is the inbetween period where I had no work) going to Caribou. Finally saw the regular barista I have known for years. Dropped in a couple times I didn't see her. Scared that she moved on. I charged the usual cookie and mocha, but I had enough change to tip: 50 cents.
- I had an afternoon to kill, and after a lot of waffling I decided to eschew working out and instead try and see some Champions League soccer. The Nomad World Pub may be the most die-hard soccer pub in the Twin Cities, so I sought it out. The only problem was finding free parking. If I couldn't find that, I would go to the gym. But I did, and so I was able to go to the Nomad, where it was mostly empty but the TVs were showing both CL games going on. Beer plus tip: $7.
- And just because I was there on a weekday afternoon, I let out my pants and walked over to the Wienery for a hot dog and fries. Wasn't hungry; I was going to eat just two hours later. But as long as I was here, and as long as I was going to eat at a time when it wasn't going to be busy, why not? Eating at this time of day, in an afternoon where I was lucky enough to find parking, is an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Love all the toppings the Wienery put on it, but I'm not a fan of it continuously falling off of it. Mental note: They do take credit cards now; they just take care of the tax if you pay with cash, or at least that's what they say. With tip: $8.25.
- Sunday the 19th was the first time I finally went through with something I wanted to do: Catch a soccer game in one of the pubs downtown, in this case Brit's. I've seen soccer games here before, but ever since NBC Sports ramped up coverage of the English Premier League, I've really started to get into it, and places like Brit's Pub has always been one of the best (if not only) places to watch with real EPL fans. Had their breakfast menu and I immediately, for some reason, went to their Bloody Mary. And my God, I have started to get really obsessed with Bloody Marys. And I can't even say that the one Brit's Pub makes is all that good, although I appreciate the Bud Light chaser. With a sarnie (a breakfast sandwich I had with ... banger, is that what it's called?) and tip: $12.
- Saturday, April 18: Finally went to Klein Bank. Mother asked me to open up a savings account with them for business related to The Store. But since The Store closed we haven't had a need for it. Nevertheless we have money there, but sometimes with inactivity Klein deactivates the account and calls me to say that something has to be done (either put money in or take money out) or else they'll, like, take the money or something. They called me on such a call about a month before, and I had recently remembered, but it was only then I was able to drive up to the nearest branch and reactivate the savings account. And I did that by depositing: $1.
- Then went to the Nomad to take in some EPL action. Had a Lagunitas Underground, which was good. With tip: $7.
- Then went to Digby's at Rosedale to take in part of the Wild game. This was Game 2, I think, where they got blown out by St. Louis. I'm not sure of the amount, but with tip I hazard the guess that it cost: $10.
- That evening I went to St. Paul to catch the Swarm game. God, that team sucks. Got a scalped ticket at discount. With Coke it totals: $16.
- After the game I thought it was time to do my annual dinner at Mickey's Diner. Love this place, and I wished I was hungry enough to eat more than the stew I ordered. No Coke, just water. With tip it came out to: $5.25.
- After that I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition). Finally got a dance ***e*'s wild friend whom I wouldn't mind showing it to. She said she looks forward to seeing it at some point. Duly noted! I find that matter-of-fact perviness so sexy! With tips and, because I drink so much coffee during the workweek, a Sprite: $31.
- Thursday, April 16 ... my parents were going down to Rochester, so I thought to do some things in the evening, even though they got back around 6 or 7. I said goodbye to them so I could go to a Planet Fitness and use their coupon for a free hydro massage they gave away for Tax Day. I've been intrigued by Planet Fitness because it's a gym that doesn't cater to those aggro CrossFit douchebags. But the customer service I got went into the toilet as soon as I showed the girl my freebie. And I was kind of bummed this hydro massage wasn't more of a big deal. The bed was off to the side, and before I could figure out how to do it, the girl turned it on, thus beginning what I think was a 15-minute session. Got kind of gypped; give me some time prepare, wouiya? Anyway, I had to go to the library to print out the coupon, so: 10 cents.
- I then went to Caffetto for a mocha. With tip: $3.50.
- On Tuesday the 14th I found a penny. Where, I don't remember. An Infusion of: 1 cent.
- I also found a couple dimes on the ground somewhere. An Infusion of: 20 cents.
- And that morning I went to Caribou. Mocha, cookie and tip: $5.75.
- Monday, April 13 -- since I was starting a job on Tax Day I couldn't do what customarily did in years past and did all my taxes at the last minute. (I think I promised myself never to do that again. One year, once I finished doing them on April 15, I went to the downtown Minneapolis post office to mail it, and of course everybody was there, so I waited in line for over an hour to file them. Missed dinner because of it.) As is my custom (as well as following advice from the IRS), every year I make copies of the tax forms, just in case. This year I spent: $1.
- I finished up my taxes and made copies of the forms at the library right next to where ***a* lives. I made a point of arranging this day so that I could get up in the morning and have something to do before ***a* was ready for sexytime with me, and to make sure I wasn't late, I went to the closest library as possible to her place ... which in fact is within walking distance. So when the time came I walked over and ... well, I should blog about this some time, but I was able to finally cum in her mouth. God, I love her: $120.
- After that I went to Diamonds for a late lunch. Didn't want to eat anything heavy, but I didn't want coffee, either. So I ordered the soup and a Coke; first time I got a Coke here. The soup wasn't what the guy who was helping thought it would be, and he was so apologetic about it that after I said I'd take the soup as it is, he brought a $5 coupon to my table to make up for it. Now that is customer service. With tip: $7.75.
- To Sunday the 12th, where I found a penny on the ground. Do people not value currency like I do? Yes, it's just a penny, but it might come in handy when you buy something that ends in a $0.01. An Infusion of: 1 cent.
- I had to print stuff out at the library that afternoon: 50 cents.
- Saturday, April 11 ... went to Annelace for coffee. Think I tried to do my taxes there, but got caught up listening to EPL soccer. Tweeted Talk Sport Live, the company doing the broadcast on radio. And they announced my tweet during the game! Sweet!! They even said my last name right, too!!! With tip: $3.75.
- Walked over to the library close to Annelace because I wanted to work on my taxes. At this particular library they were really nice and generous. Did you notice that, I think starting this year, the federal government did not make paper copies of the 1040s? Damn Republicans and their cheap-ass ways. I was reduced to borrowing their master form list to make copies or to ask the librarian for help. I did the latter, but not only was he helpful, he actually printed out for me instructions for one of the schedules I thought I needed to fill out. Turned out I didn't need to, but over the course of tax season this was the only guy at the only library that went so far as to spend taxpayer money to print out paper forms for me. Everybody else left me to fend for myself. Now that is customer service. Oh ... realized I needed to print out a tax worksheet: 10 cents.
- After that I went to the Gopher softball game. Program, hot dog, Coke: $10.25.
- That evening I went to the place where my alumni club watches games. It's good to check in on them once in a while, let them know you appreciate them hosting parties. I have made this my place to watch the Frozen Four final. This is my second year in a row, the last year the one where Minnesota got upset by fucking Union College. Still can't believe Matt O'Connor did that. Hell of a game, and a hell of an atmosphere by the guy and the bartender who watched the game. The bartender was so caught up with it that he turned down the music and turned the sound of the game up, something he's loath to do. Had a couple of things to eat there; with tip: $9.
- Then went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version). Tips, coffee: $9.
- Finally wound up my night at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place. Just for a milkshake, though. With tip: $3.75.
- Back to Friday the 10th, where I "worked" at this research study at the U. It was weird. I was part of a group of four people presumably taking the test at the same time, but not together. And I'm not sure if I did it "right," because I got done with the study before the other three did. I was out of there in about 20 minutes. It makes me think I did something wrong, and thus struck out on getting more money than I could have. Did I not pay attention to the instructions, and did the study catch me? An Infusion of: $10.
- I then went to St. Paul for *a***'s party. ***e* was there, but she had to skee-daddle, so she couldn't give me the handjob that would mean that she completely paid me back for the game console I bought for her son. On the upside, she was so busy that I had time to get a dance from *a*****, the first girl with ***e* who double teamed me all those years ago. This lapper was done in the common room, and there were other guys around, so I didn't pull it out. But she groped me through my porno pants and said, "I remember that!" And then I got a dance from **e***, a new girl who caught my eye as soon as I saw her. When I got an LD from her I was the only guy in the room; just as we started a guy got finished with his dance with another stripper (who I did not know), and as soon as he left I whipped it out. That other girl got dismayed and left; what kind of party did she think this was? **e*** was dismayed too, and so I put it back in. But after telling me that the dance is now double, she spat on her fingers, reached down my pants and started strokin' it. She's a keeper! With cover: $75.
- Celebrated the cheap HJ at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place. California burger with fries, Coke and tip: $7.
- Thursday, April 9: This was the day where I finally had the mechanic put in the mass air flow sensor. While I waited, I went to Hans' Bakery nearby for a long john and milk. With tip it came out to: $2.75.
- And then I went to the library and had Happy Hour at a nearby fancy-schmancy restaurant. The trip on the bus and back: $3.50.
- On Wednesday the 8th I also went to the mechanic. This day was the day after I freaked out over the car stalling. They said they could put the MAF sensor in, but the earliest they could do it was the next day, Friday. That's why I went to these guys back-to-back. Anyway I missed the bus, therefore I tried Hans' Bakery for the first time. Had a donut and a bismarck. With tip it totaled: $3.
- Round-trip bus: $3.50.
- At my destination I hung out at the library. Also had coffee at the Dunn Bros. station stationed inside. Just a coffee with tip: $2.28.
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