I've known for a couple years now that Twitter is a social media vehicle rife with stridency, ad hominem attacks and even hate. I still stay on for several reasons: It's still wildly popular; my alumni chapter has an account; I don't want to get chased out of something I like because of cyberspace bullies; it's not as bad as Reddit or 4chan; and I love to align myself with people who think like me, especially politically, and make fun of our opponents -- Republicans.
But that got tested severely last (Sunday) night. While trying to sleep/figuring out how I want to spend my waking hours in the evening I went through Twitter instead of falling asleep. I was listening to the U.S Women's National Soccer Team roar back from a 3-1 deficit to Brazil by scoring three Goals in nine minutes to win, 4-3. I wanted to see the Twitter reaction to that was, and I got my euphoria over the epic comeback reflected back on me. But I also saw a lot of negativity to the game. A few tweets made fun of Goalkeeper Alyssa Naeher, who let in a really easy Brazil Goal to give the country a 1-0 lead. But a lot of the venom was directed at Head Coach Jill Ellis. I didn't know till later that the USWNT has already lost three games at home in the month of July. But any of the constructive criticism centered on her tactics. Most of the rest of the criticism (the vast majority) wanted Ellis fired. One nasty tweet said: "Jill Ellis, I dare you to open a Twitter account. I dare you." Forget the three losses this month and the close call Sunday. You know that Ellis was the HC who got the U.S. the Women's World Cup two years ago, right?
Well, there are always ungrateful bastards, so I just chalked it up to "people suck" and kept scrolling through my feed. All of a sudden I see this hashtag appear -- #NoConfederate. I realized they were talking about Confederate, the next series on HBO from the creators of Game Of Thrones, which aired an episode Sunday night right when this hashtag storm whipped up enough tweeters to trend. It is a dystopian fantasy drama, which envisions the South winning the Civil War. It takes place in the future; there still is slavery in "The South," but it is supposed to take place just before "The Third Civil War."
Intriguing. Or maybe I shouldn't say that, because there has been a firestorm over the premise. That came to a head Sunday night, where there was a lot of backlash over what critics consider a slave fantasy. Many people hated Confederate because it was mining and thus exploiting the black experience for white entertainment. Many tweets likened it to white privilege. This is the point where I need to remind people that not a single episode has even been made. I will take it on faith that the creators and showrunners are not bigots, and in fact want to illuminate the current state of America to show that, yes, there is a through line from the roots of slavery to its legalized, coded tactics since the Civil War, be it sharecropping, Jim Crow, sharecropping, redlining, police brutality or prisons for profit. This could be one of the greatest series ever about Race In America Today. But we don't know that either, because not a single episode has even been made. They haven't even written the pilot, for God's sake. And yet people think they should shut it down? And those twitterers who have the balls to step forward and say they already know the show should be shut down have some hypersensitive, even paranoid reasons that they believe this idea should be killed right now. One guy even made a thread about all the "traumas" African-Americans will be hit by when the show shows (hypothetical) depictions of slavery. He's a white guy, by the way, but no one was calling him out on whitesplaining, or appropriating the black narrative for his personal agenda.
Whatever, I thought. Those people are pussies, and reflect the worst caricatures of liberalism. But by God, my lefties topped themselves in the political correctness scale later in the night. In the wake of the health care battle which the Republicans lost last week (and I need to amend an earlier blog post), Representative Maxine Waters pushed back against efforts to end her questioning of Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin. The exact phrase people on Twitter went apeshit over was, "I'm reclaiming my time!"
The hashtag #Reclaimingmytime blazed through liberal Twitter. This was when William Saletan, a writer for the website Slate, tweeted that parents should teach daughters to say no and say no forcefully. I totally agree with that. Such a sentiment is feminist, pro-woman, and empowering. And yet feminists and liberals fucking upbraided Saletan for that. They accused him of -- get this -- blaming the victim. By focusing on the actions of the woman (not teaching daughters to stand up for themselves, but the actions of the woman, which are two totally different fucking things), these stupid bitches and he-bitches think he's giving rapists a pass -- if not openly condoning rape. It really got bad, people. Tweets came in accusing Saletan of endorsing rape culture, for example. And when he commented on the backlash he got by tweeting about "Outrage Twitter," oh shit, the long knives came out. At this point I don't know what those liberals got pissed about. But they thought that after he told parents to teach their little girls to stand up for themselves, and some women thought misinterpreting what he was trying to say was standing up for themselves, they subsequently thought his tweets about them misinterpreting was him basically saying, "Oh, shut up, woman," which supposedly made him a hypocrite.
Oh, for fuck's sake -- HE'S ON YOUR SIDE, GODDAMMIT!!! He doesn't like these Republican chauvinist pigs any more than you do. And you think he doesn't "get it!" You alt-left hacks are the ones that don't get it! These are the times when I so fucking hate liberals. The conservative stereotype of lefties are people who jump to crazy conclusions about the slightest offense spoken or written. And I saw that on erupting on Twitter -- with Saletan, definitely with Confederate, and maybe even with Jill Ellis and the USWNT. It got so fucking bad I Muted several people I Followed and with who, when it comes to Trump and Republicans, I'd be in lockstep. I now think I should Block them altogether.
You know, Twitter isn't fun right now. I want to see other people echo my thoughts and feelings. But when they go too far and start screaming at Head Coaches or ideas for shows or great (liberal) advice about empowering females, I see people I wanted to trust turn on me. And I hate that. If this is what Twitter now is, pitched battles between entrenched extremists who make up their own code words like "virtue signaling," "based" and "normative," why in the hell would I ever want to be on there again?
Monday, July 31, 2017
Sunday, July 30, 2017
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey (Scheduled Post)
#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -1). And the beat goes on ... I was at the gym and saw the very end of the squad's game Tuesday against the New York Liberty (and Head Coach, Bad Boy Bill Laimbeer; Lynx HC Cheryl Reeve was hired from New York as she was Laimbeer's Assistant Coach). For some reason the game was close, but Lindsay Whalen, the only player from the club's starting five who didn't make the WNBA All-Star Game, sink a jumper late. The Libs tried to win the game, but they just couldn't sink the shot, so the Lynx survived, at home (well, the X), 76-15. Friday they actually had an easier game on the road, routing Atlanta, 90-80.
I don't really have much to add to this team other than the observation that, at least this year, the focal point of the offense seems to be Center Sylvia Fowles in the paint. Her spottiness may have led to the team's upset loss in the WNBA Finals last season; her resurgence may be a way of rectifying that mistake.
Oh, by the way, the team announced that, because the Wild have priority over the Xcel Energy Center and there will be preseason games there in September, all postseason games will be at Williams Arena, Whalen's old stomping grounds. It's sad that this proud has to move not once but twice in the same year. And have you also noticed that the renovations to Target Center were made in the middle of the Lynx's season and is occurring between the Timberwolves' seasons? I understand economics and popularity, but working around the man's schedule and not the woman's still smacks of sexism.
This week the club's at home -- Seattle tonight (Sunday night), the Dream again Thursday.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -3). Ah, that's better. Last (Saturday) night the side broke their five-game winless streak with an emphatic 4-0 ass-kicking of fellow United D.C. in a battle of the two last-place teams in the two conferences that comprise Major League Soccer. I understand that in soccer, home-field advantage is an outsized factor. But I still didn't believe they would shut out United while breaking out of a scoreless drought that spanned three whole matches and about 350 minutes. But they did. (Aside: A loss this embarrassing gets coaches fired. D.C. United have now lost seven in a row; Manager Ben Olsen has to be in trouble.) This doesn't change anything; I think they're still dead last in the Western Conference. But at least they won. They complete their five-game, 32-day homestand Saturday vs. Seattle.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -2). Wow, what a difference a week makes. OK, I've been bitching about "OK, this is the screening week where the Twins' fortunes go from good to bad." But I'm telling you, this is the screening week where the Twins' fortunes went from good to bad." They finished 1-5 for the week. That includes getting swept in L.A. to the Dodgers, The Best Team In The National League. On Sunday they lost the home series against Detroit. And they choked on three games in which they were leading this week, capped off by a two-run, game-ending Home Run by Rajai Davis, courtesy of Taylor Rogers. They have slipped below .500 for the first time since April. And this cold streak happened at the same time that both Cleveland and Kansas City both got hot. They were contending for the American League Central crown at the beginning of the week; as of press time now, they are seven games behind Cleveland for first and four games behind the Royals for second place as well as American League Wild Card 2.
I think the Dodgers series proved that, no matter how better they are than last year, they weren't going anywhere this year. On the other hand, if Cleveland and K.C. weren't going to get hot and break away, why not make at least some moves to try and win the division? My thinking that the Twinks should buy has changed a bit now that they've started to nosedive. But it puts a new spin on the moves they do make, such as trading for Jaime Garcia from The Bastard Boston-By-Way-Of Milwaukee Braves. This was a move to, along with the acquisition of Bartolo Colon, to give the team a semblance of a competent back end of the rotation. He did pretty good Friday, striking out seven in giving the nine its only win of the week, 6-3. But now that their chances of making the postseason went from puncher's to no chance, there is talk that Garcia might be moved again, and that after sending away a prospect, they will flip Garcia for a different prospect. I can totally understand that, especially if there is a team that now wants him and might pay a little more for what the Twins got him for. But geez, he just got here. He's a free agent after this year; why not just let him stay here for two months so he can catch his breath? This reminds me of Mike Piazza, who was traded from the Dodgers to Miami, where he stayed only a week before he was flipped to the Mets. He was a Marlin for a week. Imagine that happening to Garcia. Weird.
They finish their West Coast swing with Sunday's finale in Oakland and a weirdo mid-week two-game series in San Diego. They then begin a four-game series vs. Texas starting on Thursday. I presume that Target Field will be in pristine shape after back-to-back stadium concerts this weekend by Billy Joel (Friday) and the weirdo combination of Florida Georgia Line, Backstreet Boys and Nelly (Saturday).
I don't really have much to add to this team other than the observation that, at least this year, the focal point of the offense seems to be Center Sylvia Fowles in the paint. Her spottiness may have led to the team's upset loss in the WNBA Finals last season; her resurgence may be a way of rectifying that mistake.
Oh, by the way, the team announced that, because the Wild have priority over the Xcel Energy Center and there will be preseason games there in September, all postseason games will be at Williams Arena, Whalen's old stomping grounds. It's sad that this proud has to move not once but twice in the same year. And have you also noticed that the renovations to Target Center were made in the middle of the Lynx's season and is occurring between the Timberwolves' seasons? I understand economics and popularity, but working around the man's schedule and not the woman's still smacks of sexism.
This week the club's at home -- Seattle tonight (Sunday night), the Dream again Thursday.
#-2: United FC (Last Week: -3). Ah, that's better. Last (Saturday) night the side broke their five-game winless streak with an emphatic 4-0 ass-kicking of fellow United D.C. in a battle of the two last-place teams in the two conferences that comprise Major League Soccer. I understand that in soccer, home-field advantage is an outsized factor. But I still didn't believe they would shut out United while breaking out of a scoreless drought that spanned three whole matches and about 350 minutes. But they did. (Aside: A loss this embarrassing gets coaches fired. D.C. United have now lost seven in a row; Manager Ben Olsen has to be in trouble.) This doesn't change anything; I think they're still dead last in the Western Conference. But at least they won. They complete their five-game, 32-day homestand Saturday vs. Seattle.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -2). Wow, what a difference a week makes. OK, I've been bitching about "OK, this is the screening week where the Twins' fortunes go from good to bad." But I'm telling you, this is the screening week where the Twins' fortunes went from good to bad." They finished 1-5 for the week. That includes getting swept in L.A. to the Dodgers, The Best Team In The National League. On Sunday they lost the home series against Detroit. And they choked on three games in which they were leading this week, capped off by a two-run, game-ending Home Run by Rajai Davis, courtesy of Taylor Rogers. They have slipped below .500 for the first time since April. And this cold streak happened at the same time that both Cleveland and Kansas City both got hot. They were contending for the American League Central crown at the beginning of the week; as of press time now, they are seven games behind Cleveland for first and four games behind the Royals for second place as well as American League Wild Card 2.
I think the Dodgers series proved that, no matter how better they are than last year, they weren't going anywhere this year. On the other hand, if Cleveland and K.C. weren't going to get hot and break away, why not make at least some moves to try and win the division? My thinking that the Twinks should buy has changed a bit now that they've started to nosedive. But it puts a new spin on the moves they do make, such as trading for Jaime Garcia from The Bastard Boston-By-Way-Of Milwaukee Braves. This was a move to, along with the acquisition of Bartolo Colon, to give the team a semblance of a competent back end of the rotation. He did pretty good Friday, striking out seven in giving the nine its only win of the week, 6-3. But now that their chances of making the postseason went from puncher's to no chance, there is talk that Garcia might be moved again, and that after sending away a prospect, they will flip Garcia for a different prospect. I can totally understand that, especially if there is a team that now wants him and might pay a little more for what the Twins got him for. But geez, he just got here. He's a free agent after this year; why not just let him stay here for two months so he can catch his breath? This reminds me of Mike Piazza, who was traded from the Dodgers to Miami, where he stayed only a week before he was flipped to the Mets. He was a Marlin for a week. Imagine that happening to Garcia. Weird.
They finish their West Coast swing with Sunday's finale in Oakland and a weirdo mid-week two-game series in San Diego. They then begin a four-game series vs. Texas starting on Thursday. I presume that Target Field will be in pristine shape after back-to-back stadium concerts this weekend by Billy Joel (Friday) and the weirdo combination of Florida Georgia Line, Backstreet Boys and Nelly (Saturday).
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Back In Each Other's Good Graces Again
So I went to *****a's party at her new place Thursday, which is, like, super close to me now. That's great whenever I want to go to her parties. But not only did she hire enough strippers to populate Delaware to work the party (again), but the girls really started to fucking needle me for extra tips on top of what I'm already shelling out. Plus, she added a bedroom fee for VIPs. This is getting to be too much, even if we virtually live on the same street.
Nevertheless I wanted to celebrate her de facto housewarming party, and to check out the place. There were eight girls there -- way too many, but much less than the 12 that were scheduled to be there. (Two of them were two prized girls I wouldn't have minded a little sexytime with.) This raised the question, once again, of who to get dances from. Because I know *****a's parties -- I could get some action. But if I dedicate nearly all my money to one girl, I wouldn't have much left over from my $200 bankroll, so I would have to pick and choose who to get conventional lappers on with my cash left over, and so I would probably piss off the others.
****a was there. She sucks dick. She also gets so drunk she's useless to give head about halfway through a party. So I thought about getting a handie from ******y instead. I haven't been intimate with her in a while, and she's professional enough to know what she's there for and what I'm there for. But when seeing ****a, she didn't look too drunk. And so, when she was free (shortly after coming down from upstairs where she, you know, was working), I asked her for a VIP.
****a added something new: A massage. I was kind of scared that she was just going to drown me in lotion for three songs and tell me that was it. But she rubbed my ass, then started teasing me with touching my balls while I was laying face-down. Upon her orders I turned over. She got more lotion and started rubbing down my man parts. And then, suddenly, she gobbled down on my pecker. I loved what she was doing to me up to that point, but I wasn't hard. I was really afraid she was going to go after me and I wasn't going to respond appropriately. But, somewhere around the third song (she started BJ'ing me at the third song) she started to give me some vicious hand lovin' and, even though I was still flaccid, I came with torrents of my semen. It was too bad I wasn't in ****a's mouth when I did it.
Even better, after we got done, ****a apologized for her behavior the last time I saw her. I don't actually remember which party she was talking about because, frankly, she'd been acting either like a bitch or was asleep drunk the past few parties I saw her at. But I like a girl who's willing to stand up and say sorry for what she had done. That's a mark of a grown-up. Add to it that she gave me an awesome BJ, we're straight!
Nevertheless I wanted to celebrate her de facto housewarming party, and to check out the place. There were eight girls there -- way too many, but much less than the 12 that were scheduled to be there. (Two of them were two prized girls I wouldn't have minded a little sexytime with.) This raised the question, once again, of who to get dances from. Because I know *****a's parties -- I could get some action. But if I dedicate nearly all my money to one girl, I wouldn't have much left over from my $200 bankroll, so I would have to pick and choose who to get conventional lappers on with my cash left over, and so I would probably piss off the others.
****a was there. She sucks dick. She also gets so drunk she's useless to give head about halfway through a party. So I thought about getting a handie from ******y instead. I haven't been intimate with her in a while, and she's professional enough to know what she's there for and what I'm there for. But when seeing ****a, she didn't look too drunk. And so, when she was free (shortly after coming down from upstairs where she, you know, was working), I asked her for a VIP.
****a added something new: A massage. I was kind of scared that she was just going to drown me in lotion for three songs and tell me that was it. But she rubbed my ass, then started teasing me with touching my balls while I was laying face-down. Upon her orders I turned over. She got more lotion and started rubbing down my man parts. And then, suddenly, she gobbled down on my pecker. I loved what she was doing to me up to that point, but I wasn't hard. I was really afraid she was going to go after me and I wasn't going to respond appropriately. But, somewhere around the third song (she started BJ'ing me at the third song) she started to give me some vicious hand lovin' and, even though I was still flaccid, I came with torrents of my semen. It was too bad I wasn't in ****a's mouth when I did it.
Even better, after we got done, ****a apologized for her behavior the last time I saw her. I don't actually remember which party she was talking about because, frankly, she'd been acting either like a bitch or was asleep drunk the past few parties I saw her at. But I like a girl who's willing to stand up and say sorry for what she had done. That's a mark of a grown-up. Add to it that she gave me an awesome BJ, we're straight!
Friday, July 28, 2017
Ugh, Painting?
So on Facebook one of my stripper friends asked for help regarding moving. She's been in some flux over where she could go, and apparently she found it.
Totally wrong on that part. When I told her, through Facebook and then through text, I could help out, she said, basically, "Great! Can you paint?"
Uh, paint? Where I would get dirty and the fumes from an unventilated room my kill me? Uh ... sure. Whatever.
Thing is, she isn't moving. Somehow she has managed to stay at her place. And so I guess she wants to "celebrate" by redoing her whole house.
I thought it was going to be much simpler, such as literally, you know, moving things. But now I have to paint? Where I have to stretch my joints and find my dirty clothes and potentially get my glasses flecked with paint permanently? That?
But no, I can't back out. I told her I would help her, both tonight and Sunday.
Crap, I need to do this for my stripper friend.
Totally wrong on that part. When I told her, through Facebook and then through text, I could help out, she said, basically, "Great! Can you paint?"
Uh, paint? Where I would get dirty and the fumes from an unventilated room my kill me? Uh ... sure. Whatever.
Thing is, she isn't moving. Somehow she has managed to stay at her place. And so I guess she wants to "celebrate" by redoing her whole house.
I thought it was going to be much simpler, such as literally, you know, moving things. But now I have to paint? Where I have to stretch my joints and find my dirty clothes and potentially get my glasses flecked with paint permanently? That?
But no, I can't back out. I told her I would help her, both tonight and Sunday.
Crap, I need to do this for my stripper friend.
Thursday, July 27, 2017
What The Fuck Do You Mean You Thought You Were Going To Mexico?!
OK, so on Tuesday night Mother called me out to ask me something she saw and didn't understand. She does that a lot. This time it was a brochure from a casino. You may remember (I think I talked about this on WAF) that Father used to be such a gambling degenerate that he now gets all this junk mail with these deals for rooms and trips and shit like that. We used to go to them all the time -- most notably to wanna-be resort destinations such as Laughlin, Nev., and Tunica, Miss. We don't anymore, probably because they're older and wanted to do something else. But the junk mail comes nonetheless.
Anyway, Mother shows me that this brochure contains a deal to go to the Gulf of Mexico. She asks me -- and I want to point out that she only asked me -- if it is true that airfare for two to go there is $199 and why is there four bullet points showing a range of dates. I confirmed to her that the $199 fare is true, and I told her that those bullet points are ranges from which Father and she could take a Thursday-to-Sunday trip. I don't what the fascination was, but for the first time in years, it appeared as though Mother (and thus Father) wanted to take up this casino on this type of offer. And they did; yesterday afternoon I looked through their e-mail (I have their e-mail in case something important comes in while they're trekking the globe) and they booked this trip to a casino at the Gulf of Mexico some time in October.
So at dinner last night Mother was happy and she thanked me for her help. No, she didn't. She started yelling at me: "Why didn't you tell we weren't going to Mexico?"
They're going to a casino in Biloxi, Mississippi, which is right on the Gulf of Mexico. Because it said so, right there.
What. The. Fuck.
And once again she accused me of not reading something as closely as she thought I could even though I have no idea what her addled brain could twist from the series of English words she doesn't understand. There's no way to back out of it now, so they're going to make the most of it and rent a car to head off to New Orleans. Not a bad idea. I just hope they don't get murdered by racist Southerners when they thought they were going down to Mexico.
That woman. ...
Anyway, Mother shows me that this brochure contains a deal to go to the Gulf of Mexico. She asks me -- and I want to point out that she only asked me -- if it is true that airfare for two to go there is $199 and why is there four bullet points showing a range of dates. I confirmed to her that the $199 fare is true, and I told her that those bullet points are ranges from which Father and she could take a Thursday-to-Sunday trip. I don't what the fascination was, but for the first time in years, it appeared as though Mother (and thus Father) wanted to take up this casino on this type of offer. And they did; yesterday afternoon I looked through their e-mail (I have their e-mail in case something important comes in while they're trekking the globe) and they booked this trip to a casino at the Gulf of Mexico some time in October.
So at dinner last night Mother was happy and she thanked me for her help. No, she didn't. She started yelling at me: "Why didn't you tell we weren't going to Mexico?"
They're going to a casino in Biloxi, Mississippi, which is right on the Gulf of Mexico. Because it said so, right there.
What. The. Fuck.
And once again she accused me of not reading something as closely as she thought I could even though I have no idea what her addled brain could twist from the series of English words she doesn't understand. There's no way to back out of it now, so they're going to make the most of it and rent a car to head off to New Orleans. Not a bad idea. I just hope they don't get murdered by racist Southerners when they thought they were going down to Mexico.
That woman. ...
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
The Comedown
OK, it's been three days, and even though I subconsciously feel like I have to "break free" from the event, I know that there are still a few things I have to do, so I'm still in some kind of an "on" mode, even though I am coming down. Does that make any sense?
I'm still not done. Mostly it's social media stuff, such as writing stuff and uploading photos. But I'm so damn tired that it's kind of a slog.
Nevertheless I think the event went really well. With so many people, all I had to do was not act rude and just let the people mingle and have fun. By doing nothing (I think), everybody had a great time. And there were a lot of people there; probably the second-highest turnout for our annual event. Having a lot of people there helps a lot.
Still, I think I screwed up in a couple places. One parent asked me a question I had no idea how to answer; when I said I didn't know, I got the feeling he was disappointed in me. And then I forgot to ask anybody if they wanted to host this next year. That was a huge mistake, because I need to know right now if anybody can do this next year, and as weird as this sounds, I need to line this up now.
Yeah, I don't want to abdicate my duties, but I feel like I want to run away from this as far away as I can, even though it was a rousing success.
I'm still not done. Mostly it's social media stuff, such as writing stuff and uploading photos. But I'm so damn tired that it's kind of a slog.
Nevertheless I think the event went really well. With so many people, all I had to do was not act rude and just let the people mingle and have fun. By doing nothing (I think), everybody had a great time. And there were a lot of people there; probably the second-highest turnout for our annual event. Having a lot of people there helps a lot.
Still, I think I screwed up in a couple places. One parent asked me a question I had no idea how to answer; when I said I didn't know, I got the feeling he was disappointed in me. And then I forgot to ask anybody if they wanted to host this next year. That was a huge mistake, because I need to know right now if anybody can do this next year, and as weird as this sounds, I need to line this up now.
Yeah, I don't want to abdicate my duties, but I feel like I want to run away from this as far away as I can, even though it was a rousing success.
So, Three Thoughts On The Latest Asshole Republican Attempt To Repeal Obamacare
- Regarding John McCain ... he pulled himself out of the hospital in Arizona and flew cross-country to Washington, D.C. ... to cast a vote to move to proceed in passing a bill that no one has not only read, but written. I have nothing but respect for his valor and service as someone who represented this country in Vietnam. But in fact I do believe that this vote, where he crawled out of bed after receiving treatment for brain cancer -- which we taxpayers pay for -- so he could vote to take health insurance away from at least 15 and as much as 32 million people, stains him not just as a politician but as a person. In other words, all that he has down in service to this country has been obliterated by this vote. No separating the man from the politician here; this is too important to split hairs like this. He's a virtual traitor for this.
- I'm scared about this. A part of me thinks that this is a done deal. Every Republican who held out but voted for this Motion To Proceed this time around probably was bought, or at least promised something in a bill that still hasn't been fucking created. If that's the case, passing whatever this shit bill is just so the Russia Party can say they did something is a foregone conclusion. Then The Stupid People Among Us will vote for the Russia Party because they did do something, even if it is to take health insurance away from people ... including them.
- But, on the other hand, maybe we're not done. I caught Lawrence O'Donnell's The Last Word, and he said that this Motion To Proceed used to be unanimously decreed. This used to be a formality, this MTP. It's the toxic environment in Congress -- led by the Russia Party -- where now everything is a dragged-out fight. Or an opportunity to look good; I think O'Donnell says that Senate Turtle Mitch McConnell made a spectacle out of this MTP to say that they "won" this battle despite overwhelming obstruction from those pesky Democrats. While this may make them look great and grease the skids to a midterm victory in 2018 (which, right now, I don't doubt they'll win), the Senate still has to argue this on the floor, and they still have to write the fucking bill. Then it has to be reconciled with the House bill before a final vote. Again, maybe this is all over. But maybe not.
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Poor Bastard Of The Moment: Lucky Whitehead
Dallas Cowboys Wide Receiver -- well, ex-WR.
Yesterday reports surfaced that the police department of Prince William County, Va. arrested Whitehead for stealing from a convenience store in late June. The man arrested said he was Lucky Whitehead, but he was not, in fact, Lucky Whitehead, even though he gave the name, birthdate and Social Security Number of Lucky Whitehead. Hmmm.
Whitehead said that he heard about this announcement in the afternoon and was told he was cut 105 minutes later. He said at the time this was a case of mistaken identity. Turns out he was right. But the Cowboys, already weathering huge pressure for backing star Running Back Ezekiel Elliott's DV case, thought they had an image problem. They needed to right the ship, so to speak, and releasing someone who apparently ran afoul of the law was a great way to send the message that they are getting the message.
Unfortunately, it turns out that they cut an innocent man. Well, OK, not that innocent; Whitehead's the guy who said his dog was taken and held for ransom before he got it back Sunday. Of course that sounds fishy, so I might be wrong in feeling sorry for him. But until I get news that he is anything but a Poor Bastard ...
Poor Bastard.
Yesterday reports surfaced that the police department of Prince William County, Va. arrested Whitehead for stealing from a convenience store in late June. The man arrested said he was Lucky Whitehead, but he was not, in fact, Lucky Whitehead, even though he gave the name, birthdate and Social Security Number of Lucky Whitehead. Hmmm.
Whitehead said that he heard about this announcement in the afternoon and was told he was cut 105 minutes later. He said at the time this was a case of mistaken identity. Turns out he was right. But the Cowboys, already weathering huge pressure for backing star Running Back Ezekiel Elliott's DV case, thought they had an image problem. They needed to right the ship, so to speak, and releasing someone who apparently ran afoul of the law was a great way to send the message that they are getting the message.
Unfortunately, it turns out that they cut an innocent man. Well, OK, not that innocent; Whitehead's the guy who said his dog was taken and held for ransom before he got it back Sunday. Of course that sounds fishy, so I might be wrong in feeling sorry for him. But until I get news that he is anything but a Poor Bastard ...
Poor Bastard.
Monday, July 24, 2017
I had plans of being part of a mock jury tomorrow. Got through the screening questions and everything. I was set up last week to come in after work tomorrow downtown. For four hours of work, I'd get a gift card worth $275.
But I got a message this afternoon saying I'm out. Why? I was truthful about one question: I was part of a mock jury over a decade ago. It used to be OK, but now, apparently, I was thrown out because of it.
I participated in something more than ten years ago and I'm out because of it? Fuck you!
But I got a message this afternoon saying I'm out. Why? I was truthful about one question: I was part of a mock jury over a decade ago. It used to be OK, but now, apparently, I was thrown out because of it.
I participated in something more than ten years ago and I'm out because of it? Fuck you!
Sunday, July 23, 2017
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -1). Beat goes on. Crushed Phoenix Sunday and Dallas Wednesday. The Western Conference, led by Head Coach Cheryl Reeve and dotted with four of the Starting Five (only Lindsay Whalen failed to make the squad), beat the East in the WNBA All-Star Game yesterday (Saturday), even. My mantra remains the same: Beat L.A., and win the championship again. This week: Home to New York Tuesday, at Atlanta Friday.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). The trade deadline comes up at the end of the month. And while most other teams have self-categorized into buyers or sellers, depending on their prospects of winning it all this year, the Twinks still are in a limbo zone. I get the feeling that they think that they don't have the horses to really compete this year, and that they have some young players who, with time and some smart fortifications when the time comes, can be even more formidable in the future.
That would mean that it would be best if the organization were to be sellers around now. And yet, despite their 3-3 screening week, where they now sit only two games above .500, they still have a chance of winning the American League Central Division and thus make the playoffs. Despite recent lackluster form, capped off by Jose Berrios being shaky as of late and Ervin Santana mustering only ten outs in the team's 6-3 loss to Detroit at Target Field Friday, they sit only 1 1/2 games back (as of press time) of Cleveland and in a second-place tie with red-hot Kansas City. Things can quickly go south for this squad quickly -- in which case there would be a clearly mandate for them to try and trade Santana and Brian Dozier, or at least some minor league long shots. But if the lineup continues to hit, and if the bullpen doesn't blow up like it did in almost squandering last (Saturday) night's win over the Tigers in which the pen was handed a 6-0 lead and gave up five runs before Brandon Kintzler got four outs for the save, it would make sense to be buyers and, at the very least, get some cheap, journeyman arms that have enough stuff for this year.
Bottom line is they still need to win. And the opponents will brook no quarter -- especially this week, where, after finishing up their series vs. Detroit today (Sunday), they head out on a long West Coast swing, where they will play three against the Dodgers starting on Monday and travel to that dump in Oakland for three with The Bastard Philadelphia By Way Of Kansas City Athletics.
#-3: United FC (Re-Entry!). I keep telling myself that it's OK that the Loons suck. They're an expansion team; they're supposed to. But like I've said before, it would be better to see this team improve throughout the season. Sure, they were just godawful to begin the year. But the early turnaround and victories at home brought up expectations when maybe I should have slowed my own role.
Right now, the side may have reached a nadir. The New York Red Bulls came to town yesterday (Saturday) afternoon. They came in red hot, but they only have two guys, Bradley Wright-Phillips and Daniel Royer. Well, each of those guys scored a Goal as they beat the everloving shit out of MNUFC, 3-0.
That encapsulates the current predicament the organization is in. Injuries and call-ups to national teams during schedule breaks have exacerbated the problem. But they had scant time to pull a team together, Owner Bill McGuire seems to be holding the purse strings tightly, and so they have been exposed as a team that, after the starters, doesn't have much depth. That has showed in their recent form, where they are now winless in their last five matches. Without Johan Venegas, they can't create in the last third. And without Francisco Calvo, the backline is paper thin. Sam Cronin taking the day off for exhaustion didn't help; neither did Joe Greenspan, who may have suffered a third concussion this year.
It showed in the game. When the Red Bulls scored in the First Half, it felt like Game Over. Twenty minutes from the full-time whistle, shortly after NYRB scored its second tally, I started looking through my phone instead. I totally missed the third Goal, and frankly, I don't care. This may be more disappointing than the ass-kicking vs. Atlanta because I expected them not to be this shitty at this point in the season, depleted forces notwithstanding. Wednesday's scoreless, desultory draw against the Houston Dynamo is the only bright spot.
And even though the guys called up might be back by Saturday's tilt vs. D.C. United, the Loons now will be without Brent Kallman, who has to sit out the game for accumulating too many Yellow Cards. Man, when is this team going to get better?
#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). This program isn't here for anything on the ice. Well, in a way; they're here for the ice itself -- the name. A couple weeks ago (yes, I know I'm late) the University of Minnesota Athletic Department said that the new name for Mariucci Arena, the home ice for the men's hockey team, has turned into 3M Arena at Mariucci. They have sold off naming rights to one of the great edifices to men's college hockey to a corporation -- a local corporation, and one that makes some awesome products (I mean, Post-Its, hello), but this is another in a continuing, burgeoning falling of dominoes when it comes to colleges whoring themselves by selling off the names of their buildings.
I have and I have always been against naming sports stadiums after corporations. It's a signal of how much money talks in sports, and worst of all, it gives off the impression that Big Business is an entity, a concept that must be respected at all costs. When your favorite team plays in an arena named after a corporation, you see that corporation in a better light. I mean, that's why 3M paid for the privilege of renaming Mariucci. But this is all in an effort to spin fans on how good, how virtuous, how much of a member of the community a business this is. So who cares if it's been accused of dumping a toxic chemical into the Mississippi -- the hockey team plays for these guys!!!
I understand the business of college sports. And AD Mark Coyle certainly can rest at night knowing one of his school's signature programs has just been shot with an infusion of money. But as much of an apocrypha the "purity" of college sport is, that doesn't mean I want to see a blatant instance of money ruling over it.
But here it is, and now I'll have to trudge into 3M Arena (yeah, people will insist on calling it Mariucci, but pretty soon, mark my words, they'll call it 3M Arena) to watch an underperforming program year after year. Or maybe I won't march in there? No, yeah, I will at some point.
#-5: Gopher softball (Re-Entry!). I did not know about this, and I should have. Off of a humiliating season, where the program reached a high in wins in a season, reached #1 in the rankings for the first time ever, but then was forced onto the road for a Regional and proved the NCAA and the haters right by failing to win it, the Head Coach of this year's club, as well as the author of the program's resurrection, is leaving.
Earlier this week, Jessica Allister has taken the job at Stanford, her alma mater. The writing was on the wall when the Cardinal forced its Head Coach, Rachel Hanson, to resign after a 19-32 season. Allister played for Stanford at Catcher and was an Assistant Coach from 2007 to 2009, so it was almost assured that she would return to resurrect her school.
As much as last season shoved a bad taste in my mouth, there would have been no way the Goofers would have been better with anyone else leading the club besides Allister. Minnesota went 56-5 in 2017, and despite losing Sara Groenewegen, it will still be a force to be reckoned with in 2018 behind Kendyl Lindaman, named last month as Catcher Of The Year. But now they'll do without the HC. Speculation starts and maybe ends with current Gophers assistant Jessica Merchant. But the school can't replace Allister, who also took the U. out of the trash heap it was in and brought it to unprecedented heights. Who knows if Minnesota can catch lighting in a bottle twice, so that's why this team is at the bottom of this week's standings.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). The trade deadline comes up at the end of the month. And while most other teams have self-categorized into buyers or sellers, depending on their prospects of winning it all this year, the Twinks still are in a limbo zone. I get the feeling that they think that they don't have the horses to really compete this year, and that they have some young players who, with time and some smart fortifications when the time comes, can be even more formidable in the future.
That would mean that it would be best if the organization were to be sellers around now. And yet, despite their 3-3 screening week, where they now sit only two games above .500, they still have a chance of winning the American League Central Division and thus make the playoffs. Despite recent lackluster form, capped off by Jose Berrios being shaky as of late and Ervin Santana mustering only ten outs in the team's 6-3 loss to Detroit at Target Field Friday, they sit only 1 1/2 games back (as of press time) of Cleveland and in a second-place tie with red-hot Kansas City. Things can quickly go south for this squad quickly -- in which case there would be a clearly mandate for them to try and trade Santana and Brian Dozier, or at least some minor league long shots. But if the lineup continues to hit, and if the bullpen doesn't blow up like it did in almost squandering last (Saturday) night's win over the Tigers in which the pen was handed a 6-0 lead and gave up five runs before Brandon Kintzler got four outs for the save, it would make sense to be buyers and, at the very least, get some cheap, journeyman arms that have enough stuff for this year.
Bottom line is they still need to win. And the opponents will brook no quarter -- especially this week, where, after finishing up their series vs. Detroit today (Sunday), they head out on a long West Coast swing, where they will play three against the Dodgers starting on Monday and travel to that dump in Oakland for three with The Bastard Philadelphia By Way Of Kansas City Athletics.
#-3: United FC (Re-Entry!). I keep telling myself that it's OK that the Loons suck. They're an expansion team; they're supposed to. But like I've said before, it would be better to see this team improve throughout the season. Sure, they were just godawful to begin the year. But the early turnaround and victories at home brought up expectations when maybe I should have slowed my own role.
Right now, the side may have reached a nadir. The New York Red Bulls came to town yesterday (Saturday) afternoon. They came in red hot, but they only have two guys, Bradley Wright-Phillips and Daniel Royer. Well, each of those guys scored a Goal as they beat the everloving shit out of MNUFC, 3-0.
That encapsulates the current predicament the organization is in. Injuries and call-ups to national teams during schedule breaks have exacerbated the problem. But they had scant time to pull a team together, Owner Bill McGuire seems to be holding the purse strings tightly, and so they have been exposed as a team that, after the starters, doesn't have much depth. That has showed in their recent form, where they are now winless in their last five matches. Without Johan Venegas, they can't create in the last third. And without Francisco Calvo, the backline is paper thin. Sam Cronin taking the day off for exhaustion didn't help; neither did Joe Greenspan, who may have suffered a third concussion this year.
It showed in the game. When the Red Bulls scored in the First Half, it felt like Game Over. Twenty minutes from the full-time whistle, shortly after NYRB scored its second tally, I started looking through my phone instead. I totally missed the third Goal, and frankly, I don't care. This may be more disappointing than the ass-kicking vs. Atlanta because I expected them not to be this shitty at this point in the season, depleted forces notwithstanding. Wednesday's scoreless, desultory draw against the Houston Dynamo is the only bright spot.
And even though the guys called up might be back by Saturday's tilt vs. D.C. United, the Loons now will be without Brent Kallman, who has to sit out the game for accumulating too many Yellow Cards. Man, when is this team going to get better?
#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). This program isn't here for anything on the ice. Well, in a way; they're here for the ice itself -- the name. A couple weeks ago (yes, I know I'm late) the University of Minnesota Athletic Department said that the new name for Mariucci Arena, the home ice for the men's hockey team, has turned into 3M Arena at Mariucci. They have sold off naming rights to one of the great edifices to men's college hockey to a corporation -- a local corporation, and one that makes some awesome products (I mean, Post-Its, hello), but this is another in a continuing, burgeoning falling of dominoes when it comes to colleges whoring themselves by selling off the names of their buildings.
I have and I have always been against naming sports stadiums after corporations. It's a signal of how much money talks in sports, and worst of all, it gives off the impression that Big Business is an entity, a concept that must be respected at all costs. When your favorite team plays in an arena named after a corporation, you see that corporation in a better light. I mean, that's why 3M paid for the privilege of renaming Mariucci. But this is all in an effort to spin fans on how good, how virtuous, how much of a member of the community a business this is. So who cares if it's been accused of dumping a toxic chemical into the Mississippi -- the hockey team plays for these guys!!!
I understand the business of college sports. And AD Mark Coyle certainly can rest at night knowing one of his school's signature programs has just been shot with an infusion of money. But as much of an apocrypha the "purity" of college sport is, that doesn't mean I want to see a blatant instance of money ruling over it.
But here it is, and now I'll have to trudge into 3M Arena (yeah, people will insist on calling it Mariucci, but pretty soon, mark my words, they'll call it 3M Arena) to watch an underperforming program year after year. Or maybe I won't march in there? No, yeah, I will at some point.
#-5: Gopher softball (Re-Entry!). I did not know about this, and I should have. Off of a humiliating season, where the program reached a high in wins in a season, reached #1 in the rankings for the first time ever, but then was forced onto the road for a Regional and proved the NCAA and the haters right by failing to win it, the Head Coach of this year's club, as well as the author of the program's resurrection, is leaving.
Earlier this week, Jessica Allister has taken the job at Stanford, her alma mater. The writing was on the wall when the Cardinal forced its Head Coach, Rachel Hanson, to resign after a 19-32 season. Allister played for Stanford at Catcher and was an Assistant Coach from 2007 to 2009, so it was almost assured that she would return to resurrect her school.
As much as last season shoved a bad taste in my mouth, there would have been no way the Goofers would have been better with anyone else leading the club besides Allister. Minnesota went 56-5 in 2017, and despite losing Sara Groenewegen, it will still be a force to be reckoned with in 2018 behind Kendyl Lindaman, named last month as Catcher Of The Year. But now they'll do without the HC. Speculation starts and maybe ends with current Gophers assistant Jessica Merchant. But the school can't replace Allister, who also took the U. out of the trash heap it was in and brought it to unprecedented heights. Who knows if Minnesota can catch lighting in a bottle twice, so that's why this team is at the bottom of this week's standings.
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Well, This Is It ...
... and to be honest, nearly all my fears have been assuaged. I went over to the host this afternoon (after being half an hour late -- I think she forgave me) and she seemed to have everything in order. We know what the floorplan is; we think we know where the crowd will gather; we have set up the tables where both the free stuff and the food will be; and we have picked out the places where we will have our little speeches and make our annual photo.
Any stray threads regarding tomorrow's event are my fault. I brought all the stuff we're supposed to give away, but I forgot a bunch of things. Such as the balloons and the helium tank. Also, such as the decorations and the CD of school music. I will bring all of those tomorrow (well, maybe not the helium tank) and hopefully we'll have time to set all of those things up the hour before the party begins. But I got the impression from her (who says she entertains on occasion) that it's not a big deal if we don't get everything tomorrow. Thank God.
Like I planned this, I just want to pick people who know how to host these parties; all I want to do is smile, greet and pay for it all.
Now, besides making sure I get there on time, bringing all the stuff to make the event even more perfect and avoiding any blindsides, I have a few promotional items I still need to do, such as e-mail everyone who RSVP'd. After that, and I just need to have a good time.
Things are almost going too well. But if I hate it when things go poorly, why don't I allow myself to feel relief whenever things go right, or even when things appear to go right? I want to do that for this, right now.
Any stray threads regarding tomorrow's event are my fault. I brought all the stuff we're supposed to give away, but I forgot a bunch of things. Such as the balloons and the helium tank. Also, such as the decorations and the CD of school music. I will bring all of those tomorrow (well, maybe not the helium tank) and hopefully we'll have time to set all of those things up the hour before the party begins. But I got the impression from her (who says she entertains on occasion) that it's not a big deal if we don't get everything tomorrow. Thank God.
Like I planned this, I just want to pick people who know how to host these parties; all I want to do is smile, greet and pay for it all.
Now, besides making sure I get there on time, bringing all the stuff to make the event even more perfect and avoiding any blindsides, I have a few promotional items I still need to do, such as e-mail everyone who RSVP'd. After that, and I just need to have a good time.
Things are almost going too well. But if I hate it when things go poorly, why don't I allow myself to feel relief whenever things go right, or even when things appear to go right? I want to do that for this, right now.
Avoiding My Asshole Brother For A Second Weekend (Scheduled Post)
For the second consecutive Saturday (which is a rarity -- more on that in a second), My Asshole Brother and my sister-in-law and my niece are coming over today/Saturday, and this time it appears as though they're having dinner -- ribs and everything. When Father serves ribs, it's fancy.
But I will not be there. For the second consecutive Saturday I will avoid My Asshole Brother. My main reason, of course, is that I don't want to see the bullying motherfucker. But unlike last Saturday, where I tried my best to stay away while they were at the house, this time I actually have a good reason to be gone. I am busy getting ready for Sunday's party, and then I have the United match in the afternoon. Sure, I could go back, but the earliest I would be back is 6, and by then they'll probably be done eating, and I still need to eat dinner, and so it's just best if I just stay out for dinner. So it's half an excuse, if anything.
All this time away from My Asshole Brother makes me concerned about my relationship with my niece. I swear I blogged about him turning my niece against me, and if I know him (and I do) he's doing it right now. And unfortunately he has my absences to use against me -- "See, he's not here because he doesn't love you." And I hate that bullshit manipulation; if I want to see her, I have to put up with him.
So of course the ball's in my court. And you know, I don't regret not being there. In fact, if they're dropping by next Saturday, I won't be at home, either; have to attend my friend's musical in the afternoon, then attend the United match in the evening. Still think it's best to stay away from toxic people, you know?
But I will not be there. For the second consecutive Saturday I will avoid My Asshole Brother. My main reason, of course, is that I don't want to see the bullying motherfucker. But unlike last Saturday, where I tried my best to stay away while they were at the house, this time I actually have a good reason to be gone. I am busy getting ready for Sunday's party, and then I have the United match in the afternoon. Sure, I could go back, but the earliest I would be back is 6, and by then they'll probably be done eating, and I still need to eat dinner, and so it's just best if I just stay out for dinner. So it's half an excuse, if anything.
All this time away from My Asshole Brother makes me concerned about my relationship with my niece. I swear I blogged about him turning my niece against me, and if I know him (and I do) he's doing it right now. And unfortunately he has my absences to use against me -- "See, he's not here because he doesn't love you." And I hate that bullshit manipulation; if I want to see her, I have to put up with him.
So of course the ball's in my court. And you know, I don't regret not being there. In fact, if they're dropping by next Saturday, I won't be at home, either; have to attend my friend's musical in the afternoon, then attend the United match in the evening. Still think it's best to stay away from toxic people, you know?
Friday, July 21, 2017
Addendum To: Four Days And Now I Am Just Pissed
Well, while I was at the United match I saw that the host did get back to me, and did so the night before. I was worried sick that she was going to chew me out for "hounding" her or some shit like that. But she didn't -- she just wanted to set up a time for me to canvas her place and she wanted a head count. That's all. So I gave her both.
That was late Wednesday night. As of press time, I haven't heard back. And you know what? I'm not worried. Uh, not really. Hey, in my e-mail I said that if she needs anything important -- you know, food, drinks, tables, stuff like that -- let me know. I will assume that since she did not frantically e-mail me back -- "I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO GET ALL THAT STUFF!!!" -- she has taken care of all of that.
Right?
I still need to visit her because, as President, I need to know where the hell I'm going. But I have to tell you that the pounding heart and aching chest I felt the first part of this week is completely gone, even though all our ducks aren't in a row yet. Why? Because my initial ennui over the host not communicating back to me is gone. Yep, with one terse message, all my anxiety evaporated. Doesn't matter that maybe I should have some anxiety precisely because all our ducks aren't in a row yet. Besides, I've done all I could!
If I don't hear from her, I'll text her lunchtime today. I kind of need to make sure I see her house before the event begins or I'll go back to freaking the fuck out.
That was late Wednesday night. As of press time, I haven't heard back. And you know what? I'm not worried. Uh, not really. Hey, in my e-mail I said that if she needs anything important -- you know, food, drinks, tables, stuff like that -- let me know. I will assume that since she did not frantically e-mail me back -- "I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO GET ALL THAT STUFF!!!" -- she has taken care of all of that.
Right?
I still need to visit her because, as President, I need to know where the hell I'm going. But I have to tell you that the pounding heart and aching chest I felt the first part of this week is completely gone, even though all our ducks aren't in a row yet. Why? Because my initial ennui over the host not communicating back to me is gone. Yep, with one terse message, all my anxiety evaporated. Doesn't matter that maybe I should have some anxiety precisely because all our ducks aren't in a row yet. Besides, I've done all I could!
If I don't hear from her, I'll text her lunchtime today. I kind of need to make sure I see her house before the event begins or I'll go back to freaking the fuck out.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
But I Thought We Had A Connection!
OK, first of all, the host finally got back to me, and she didn't think I was the one ordering food, so for right now, calamity averted. Now then ...
One of the weird things about working at these test scoring places are seeing faces that are familiar. But the thing is, even though you know you've seen them before because they've worked on the same projects, and they might have even talked to you extensively, they are not friends. In fact, because you are shuttled from project to project in a job that usually lasts from March till June, you're not really co-workers. You're temps stuck in the same building, essentially.
Here's my question: When should you say hi to these people? Through seven seasons I can recognize face after face of people who I had interacted with, sometimes, frequently, when we were working the same room together. But even today, when I cross these people in the hallway, we barely glance at each other. It's as though it was my first day.
Case in point: Last week, in the hallway, I saw this guy, remember him? We sat next to each other for two months, an eternity in test scoring projects. We talked about everything from the essays we were working on to old relatives. We got deep, man. So, during a break, when I crossed paths with him, when he was walking right across my path to get to the bathroom, I waved to him ... and he just looked at me, then past me, and then kept right on walking. Like I was but an apparition. That still spooks me. Did he totally forget who I was, even though it's been only ten weeks since we last sat together? Can't be. Did he not ever like me, and so all those in-depth conversations were only lies? Or did I somehow do something wrong and piss him off -- such as blogging about him here?
The other case in point: I went into the men's room to pee. A bit later another man comes in. I recognize him as my immediate supervisor on the last project I did for this company. That got done almost a month ago. But I think we'd still recognize each other, or at least say hi while washing our hands. So in anticipation of that, I take out one of my ear plugs. But through all the hand-washing and hand-drying, he didn't speak a word to me. He didn't even look my way. He just washed his hands and left. As if he had never met me before.
I thought it was weird and even rude at first. But I have to admit I haven't been the most magnanimous guy there either. I am certain that I have not made eye contact with people who remember me from the room we were working in on projects three, five, seven years ago. I just don't remember them. And that's what sucks: There's a chance that of the people who are working on projects in my current building right now, I have worked on the same project with, oh, 80% of them. And yet because we're all temps trading deck chairs on the Titanic I'm supposed to wipe my memory of them, even if I thought we were sort-of friends? Apparently, the answer -- from their end and my end -- is yes.
One of the weird things about working at these test scoring places are seeing faces that are familiar. But the thing is, even though you know you've seen them before because they've worked on the same projects, and they might have even talked to you extensively, they are not friends. In fact, because you are shuttled from project to project in a job that usually lasts from March till June, you're not really co-workers. You're temps stuck in the same building, essentially.
Here's my question: When should you say hi to these people? Through seven seasons I can recognize face after face of people who I had interacted with, sometimes, frequently, when we were working the same room together. But even today, when I cross these people in the hallway, we barely glance at each other. It's as though it was my first day.
Case in point: Last week, in the hallway, I saw this guy, remember him? We sat next to each other for two months, an eternity in test scoring projects. We talked about everything from the essays we were working on to old relatives. We got deep, man. So, during a break, when I crossed paths with him, when he was walking right across my path to get to the bathroom, I waved to him ... and he just looked at me, then past me, and then kept right on walking. Like I was but an apparition. That still spooks me. Did he totally forget who I was, even though it's been only ten weeks since we last sat together? Can't be. Did he not ever like me, and so all those in-depth conversations were only lies? Or did I somehow do something wrong and piss him off -- such as blogging about him here?
The other case in point: I went into the men's room to pee. A bit later another man comes in. I recognize him as my immediate supervisor on the last project I did for this company. That got done almost a month ago. But I think we'd still recognize each other, or at least say hi while washing our hands. So in anticipation of that, I take out one of my ear plugs. But through all the hand-washing and hand-drying, he didn't speak a word to me. He didn't even look my way. He just washed his hands and left. As if he had never met me before.
I thought it was weird and even rude at first. But I have to admit I haven't been the most magnanimous guy there either. I am certain that I have not made eye contact with people who remember me from the room we were working in on projects three, five, seven years ago. I just don't remember them. And that's what sucks: There's a chance that of the people who are working on projects in my current building right now, I have worked on the same project with, oh, 80% of them. And yet because we're all temps trading deck chairs on the Titanic I'm supposed to wipe my memory of them, even if I thought we were sort-of friends? Apparently, the answer -- from their end and my end -- is yes.
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Four Days And Now I'm Just Pissed
OK, so on Monday I resorted to texting the host of the party I'm, uh, hosting because I was kind of miffed that she hadn't responded to my e-mail last week. I mean, can't you just reply? Seriously!
I shouldn't have expected an immediate reply, but after she stonewalled me last week, every minute my text wasn't being answered I was grinding my teeth. I don't think I'm being overbearing or dramatic when I ask someone to reply to my communications with some alacrity. Anyway, after a while I did get a text from her. She claims she did not see it yet. She also said she was at the Twins game. She said she will check her e-mail once she gets home. OK.
I have yet to hear from her. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's just been two days, but there are four fucking days before The Biggest Event On The Club's Calendar, and I have no goddamn clue if she's fucking ready. Does she know, for example, that there are at least 34 people coming to the event? Will there be enough food and drinks? How about decorations? Maybe she wants some balloons? And the cake ... we need a specially-designed cake, and I don't know if she has even begun to think about that.
And to top it all off, I'm paying for all of it. I'm going to foot the bill ... and I have no fucking clue if there's gonna be food at this party. Hell, I don't even know where this house is. I know the address, and I want to drop by to just know where the fuck everything is. It wouldn't be a bad idea to start setting up all the free stuff we're supposed to give away before the big day; does she know that we need a table for all this stuff? That was the reason I contacted her last week -- to set up a time so I can go through, one final time, what's going to happen. We haven't even done that. For all I know, she thinks I'm setting up everything. Oh, if that's the case, she's in for one fucking hell of a surprise.
If I don't hear from her by this afternoon, goddamn, I'm going to have to talk to her by phone. And if I get voicemail, I'll start calling her repeatedly Thursday. And I won't be so nice and deferential at that point. I'm going to start ripping her fucking head off. I mean it. I can't even, I can't fucking even. ...
I shouldn't have expected an immediate reply, but after she stonewalled me last week, every minute my text wasn't being answered I was grinding my teeth. I don't think I'm being overbearing or dramatic when I ask someone to reply to my communications with some alacrity. Anyway, after a while I did get a text from her. She claims she did not see it yet. She also said she was at the Twins game. She said she will check her e-mail once she gets home. OK.
I have yet to hear from her. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's just been two days, but there are four fucking days before The Biggest Event On The Club's Calendar, and I have no goddamn clue if she's fucking ready. Does she know, for example, that there are at least 34 people coming to the event? Will there be enough food and drinks? How about decorations? Maybe she wants some balloons? And the cake ... we need a specially-designed cake, and I don't know if she has even begun to think about that.
And to top it all off, I'm paying for all of it. I'm going to foot the bill ... and I have no fucking clue if there's gonna be food at this party. Hell, I don't even know where this house is. I know the address, and I want to drop by to just know where the fuck everything is. It wouldn't be a bad idea to start setting up all the free stuff we're supposed to give away before the big day; does she know that we need a table for all this stuff? That was the reason I contacted her last week -- to set up a time so I can go through, one final time, what's going to happen. We haven't even done that. For all I know, she thinks I'm setting up everything. Oh, if that's the case, she's in for one fucking hell of a surprise.
If I don't hear from her by this afternoon, goddamn, I'm going to have to talk to her by phone. And if I get voicemail, I'll start calling her repeatedly Thursday. And I won't be so nice and deferential at that point. I'm going to start ripping her fucking head off. I mean it. I can't even, I can't fucking even. ...
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
Can't Do That Again
My sleep pattern has been fucked up since coming back from Hong Kong. Not only have I had a propensity of falling asleep during the evening, I have (with or without sleeping earlier in the evening) stayed up until 3, 4 in the morning. I thought that wouldn't hurt me during nights I have slept earlier and just woke up. But every day, when that alarm goes off, I am groggy, and even though I manage to tough it out during the day, that morning feeling, man ... I have to stop it.
It came to a head yesterday (Monday) morning. Through my grogginess I got out of the house a bit past 7:30, more than a half-hour after the alarm woke me up. I usually try and get out ten minutes before then, but a combination of the snooze button and reading this article on Sweden fighting the social problem of inequality, I got out late. And that cost me: There was inexplicable traffic backing up to the exit I needed to get to work, and Monday was one of those goddamn days where there was a back-up on the street I turn off of to get to the building. (I swear I hate that fucking tie-up, mostly because there are days when it's not there; I have no idea how it crops up now and again.) So I got to work at 8:15 instead of 8, which throws off my schedule of getting out of work earlier today (Tuesday). And if the company tears the lid off of working 40 hours this week, well, that's 15 minutes of work I will never be able to make money on.
So now I'm going to set my alarm clock 15 minutes earlier. Should have done that from the start. I also should stay up through the evening and go to bed earlier. But shoot, I fell asleep a bit past 9, woke up at 2 in the morning, and have been up since. I'm going to be groggy again today, dammit.
It came to a head yesterday (Monday) morning. Through my grogginess I got out of the house a bit past 7:30, more than a half-hour after the alarm woke me up. I usually try and get out ten minutes before then, but a combination of the snooze button and reading this article on Sweden fighting the social problem of inequality, I got out late. And that cost me: There was inexplicable traffic backing up to the exit I needed to get to work, and Monday was one of those goddamn days where there was a back-up on the street I turn off of to get to the building. (I swear I hate that fucking tie-up, mostly because there are days when it's not there; I have no idea how it crops up now and again.) So I got to work at 8:15 instead of 8, which throws off my schedule of getting out of work earlier today (Tuesday). And if the company tears the lid off of working 40 hours this week, well, that's 15 minutes of work I will never be able to make money on.
So now I'm going to set my alarm clock 15 minutes earlier. Should have done that from the start. I also should stay up through the evening and go to bed earlier. But shoot, I fell asleep a bit past 9, woke up at 2 in the morning, and have been up since. I'm going to be groggy again today, dammit.
Monday, July 17, 2017
Seven Days And I'm Freaking Out
So the big party, The Most Important Date In My Alumni Club's Calendar, is next Sunday, and things are not going as well as it should.
Well, one thing that's great is that there are so many people coming. According to our Eventbrite page, more than 30 people have committed. If they all show up, there's a chance that this might be our most-attended event ever. The interest is great, but that means more food, more drinks, more decorations, more planning -- and more expectations from people who think they're going to have a good time.
And that's where the worst part of this comes in. I can't get in touch with the host. She was incredibly enthusiastic, volunteering to host this party at last year's party. But things have been kind of dicey since. A month ago I sent her a link to our Eventbrite page and for some reason, she was flummoxed by it. I don't think anyone in her right mind would be taken aback by it; I think anyone would be curious at what the invitation looks like, and she could have checked it over to make sure I didn't make a huge mistake, such as putting down the wrong address or date.
As is my want -- and because it's common sense -- I want to drop by before the day of the party to make sure everything's in order, I know where all things are, if there are any questions the host has, etc. I e-mailed her Wednesday; no reply. Things may very well be taken care of at this point. She might be out of town or dealing with a family issue. But for God's sake, if someone sends you an e-mail preparing for a big event, wouldn't you at least have the manners, the decency, to reply -- and well before four days?
One weird miscommunication I can understand, although you're on my radar. A second breach of common courtesy? Well shit, that's a pattern. But I don't know what to do now. It's a week before the big day, and I don't think I can just find someone else to host this party.
This is going to be a damn disaster, I just know it.
WHERE IN THE HELL IS SHE?!?!?!
Well, one thing that's great is that there are so many people coming. According to our Eventbrite page, more than 30 people have committed. If they all show up, there's a chance that this might be our most-attended event ever. The interest is great, but that means more food, more drinks, more decorations, more planning -- and more expectations from people who think they're going to have a good time.
And that's where the worst part of this comes in. I can't get in touch with the host. She was incredibly enthusiastic, volunteering to host this party at last year's party. But things have been kind of dicey since. A month ago I sent her a link to our Eventbrite page and for some reason, she was flummoxed by it. I don't think anyone in her right mind would be taken aback by it; I think anyone would be curious at what the invitation looks like, and she could have checked it over to make sure I didn't make a huge mistake, such as putting down the wrong address or date.
As is my want -- and because it's common sense -- I want to drop by before the day of the party to make sure everything's in order, I know where all things are, if there are any questions the host has, etc. I e-mailed her Wednesday; no reply. Things may very well be taken care of at this point. She might be out of town or dealing with a family issue. But for God's sake, if someone sends you an e-mail preparing for a big event, wouldn't you at least have the manners, the decency, to reply -- and well before four days?
One weird miscommunication I can understand, although you're on my radar. A second breach of common courtesy? Well shit, that's a pattern. But I don't know what to do now. It's a week before the big day, and I don't think I can just find someone else to host this party.
This is going to be a damn disaster, I just know it.
WHERE IN THE HELL IS SHE?!?!?!
Sunday, July 16, 2017
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -3). Got back to their winning ways by drubbing the Mercury in Phoenix Friday, 88-71. You know, the Mercury was supposed to be the prime contender to the Lynx's domination of the WNBA ever since they got Brittney Griner to pair with Diana Taurasi. That 2014 Western Conference Finals, where the Merc crushed the Jynx in that Game 5, should have signaled a bellwether to the rivalry, if not a changing of the guard. But Taurasi elected to take the following season off, and they haven't been the same since. And the Los Angeles Sparks appear to have taken over the mantle of Prime Contender (if not Best Team In The WNBA) from Phoenix.
I say this because in the fourth quarter of the game, Griner left. And now she'll be out three-to-four weeks with knee and ankle injuries. Seems as if Phoenix won't be winning the title this year, either. And it looks as though Minnesota will still have L.A. to exorcise in order to win another championship. The Griner-less Mercury come to St. Paul this evening; the club also hosts The Bastard Detroit-By-Way-Of-Tulsa Shock Wednesday.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). So nothing with the All-Star Break matters to the Twinks when it comes to the WMNSS unless it's bad. And there's plenty bad, so I want to hold it against them.
First, Miguel Sano. Great that his bloop single to right got the American League on the board with a 1-0 lead in the All-Star Game. But I would be willing to bet money that his Home Run totals are going to swandive since appearing in the Home Run Derby. Why? Because that is what usually happens, and I don't care about any stats that would say otherwise. Whenever a Twink appears in the HRD, he tires out his arms and he loses his swing and he's going to be impotent the second half of the season. If you're going to do that, at least win the Derby. But he didn't do that. Aaron Judge of the New York Yankees -- some down East Coast hacks thinks the rook should be the next face of the of Major League Baseball; where the fuck do people come up with that? -- won. Worst of all, Sano didn't save his swings when it really counts; he lost in the final to Judge, 11-10. So he pumped out all those homers and managed to advance two rounds, but then lost in the final, by a single Home Run, and so he loses the Home Run Derby. That's a long way to destroy your swing and your totals, sir.
Then, Ervin Santana. He came in the ASG after Closer Brandon Kintzler -- weird that the Ace of a team comes in after its Closer, but whatevs -- and Santana promptly gave up the lead teammate Sano got for the AL with a pitch Yadier Molina of the St. Louis Cardinals deposited into Marlins Park's Right-Center Field. That does not portend well for his second half, although he managed Saturday's game and helped get the squad a 4-2 victory over the dangerous Houston Astros.
Kintzler was clean in his outing, three up and three down. No worries with him, yet.
Now to the second half, which began with a 10-5 clubbing by The Bastard Houston Colt .45s. They're in a tussle now in the rubber game, and after that the road does not get that much easier, with three-game sets against the Yankees (starting tomorrow/Monday) and Detroit (beginning Friday). At least both series are at home.
I say this because in the fourth quarter of the game, Griner left. And now she'll be out three-to-four weeks with knee and ankle injuries. Seems as if Phoenix won't be winning the title this year, either. And it looks as though Minnesota will still have L.A. to exorcise in order to win another championship. The Griner-less Mercury come to St. Paul this evening; the club also hosts The Bastard Detroit-By-Way-Of-Tulsa Shock Wednesday.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -2). So nothing with the All-Star Break matters to the Twinks when it comes to the WMNSS unless it's bad. And there's plenty bad, so I want to hold it against them.
First, Miguel Sano. Great that his bloop single to right got the American League on the board with a 1-0 lead in the All-Star Game. But I would be willing to bet money that his Home Run totals are going to swandive since appearing in the Home Run Derby. Why? Because that is what usually happens, and I don't care about any stats that would say otherwise. Whenever a Twink appears in the HRD, he tires out his arms and he loses his swing and he's going to be impotent the second half of the season. If you're going to do that, at least win the Derby. But he didn't do that. Aaron Judge of the New York Yankees -- some down East Coast hacks thinks the rook should be the next face of the of Major League Baseball; where the fuck do people come up with that? -- won. Worst of all, Sano didn't save his swings when it really counts; he lost in the final to Judge, 11-10. So he pumped out all those homers and managed to advance two rounds, but then lost in the final, by a single Home Run, and so he loses the Home Run Derby. That's a long way to destroy your swing and your totals, sir.
Then, Ervin Santana. He came in the ASG after Closer Brandon Kintzler -- weird that the Ace of a team comes in after its Closer, but whatevs -- and Santana promptly gave up the lead teammate Sano got for the AL with a pitch Yadier Molina of the St. Louis Cardinals deposited into Marlins Park's Right-Center Field. That does not portend well for his second half, although he managed Saturday's game and helped get the squad a 4-2 victory over the dangerous Houston Astros.
Kintzler was clean in his outing, three up and three down. No worries with him, yet.
Now to the second half, which began with a 10-5 clubbing by The Bastard Houston Colt .45s. They're in a tussle now in the rubber game, and after that the road does not get that much easier, with three-game sets against the Yankees (starting tomorrow/Monday) and Detroit (beginning Friday). At least both series are at home.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
No Goddamn Way I'm Coming Back With My Asshole Brother At Home
I had a feeling that he, my sister-in-law and niece would be dropping by today. Not just because it would be just my luck, but also because, well, Mother loves her granddaughter and it's the weekend, so it makes sense.
That's the good thing about always thinking ahead. I can gird myself in case the worst comes. This morning I thought about the possibility of that happening, and I girded myself.
I went downstairs to tell Father (who was reading stuff on his computer) and Mother (who was working on her computer) that I was leaving -- a rarity, but just in case. Told Father first; told him I'd be back around 4.
Just as I was leaving and he was turning back to his desktop, he turned back to me: "Oh, Jimmy's coming at noon."
My folks know that we don't get along, and I'm sure they knew we didn't get along last week in Hong Kong, to put it mildly.
I had to stop and think there, in Father's computer room, for an extra beat. "Tell him I say hi," I said. Then I told Mother with the caveat that a friend of mine might want to meet up after dinner. Wanted to give the impression that I might come in late and leave early, as is my want. In reality, I have the United match to go to tonight; still don't know if they know whether I have season tickets.
Look, for all the obligatory his and byes we give each other and gave each other in Hong Kong, I fucking don't like him because he's a bully. He can say all he wants about just wanting to drop by so my niece can see his parents, but he's just a fucking manipulator, trying to play mind games as the first son and the one bearing my folks progeny. He's lording it over me, and so he thinks he can get away with everything -- like he has all his life. Trying to be an adult around my niece just adds more pressure to me coming back home and thinking everything's OK, when it's not. For me, it rarely has.
So why in the hell should I come back home while they're there? Fuck being the better man. I'm not going to debase myself and give My Asshole Brother the satisfaction. How about just dropping off my niece and let my parents and I take care of her for a while? That'll let me have bonding time with her without needing to deal with him.
Ah, it's no use. I have to go home at some point. Besides, I can't avoid My Asshole Brother forever because that'll mean avoiding my niece forever, and as much as I hate being over a barrel, I can't have that. If I miss them today, fine. Next time, I'll have to fucking play nice. Because I'm supposed to be the bigger man, even though he isn't, because no one sees him as not being the bigger man.
Until then, though, maybe I'll stop by Dairy Queen before coming home today. I mean, it's hot out there.
That's the good thing about always thinking ahead. I can gird myself in case the worst comes. This morning I thought about the possibility of that happening, and I girded myself.
I went downstairs to tell Father (who was reading stuff on his computer) and Mother (who was working on her computer) that I was leaving -- a rarity, but just in case. Told Father first; told him I'd be back around 4.
Just as I was leaving and he was turning back to his desktop, he turned back to me: "Oh, Jimmy's coming at noon."
My folks know that we don't get along, and I'm sure they knew we didn't get along last week in Hong Kong, to put it mildly.
I had to stop and think there, in Father's computer room, for an extra beat. "Tell him I say hi," I said. Then I told Mother with the caveat that a friend of mine might want to meet up after dinner. Wanted to give the impression that I might come in late and leave early, as is my want. In reality, I have the United match to go to tonight; still don't know if they know whether I have season tickets.
Look, for all the obligatory his and byes we give each other and gave each other in Hong Kong, I fucking don't like him because he's a bully. He can say all he wants about just wanting to drop by so my niece can see his parents, but he's just a fucking manipulator, trying to play mind games as the first son and the one bearing my folks progeny. He's lording it over me, and so he thinks he can get away with everything -- like he has all his life. Trying to be an adult around my niece just adds more pressure to me coming back home and thinking everything's OK, when it's not. For me, it rarely has.
So why in the hell should I come back home while they're there? Fuck being the better man. I'm not going to debase myself and give My Asshole Brother the satisfaction. How about just dropping off my niece and let my parents and I take care of her for a while? That'll let me have bonding time with her without needing to deal with him.
Ah, it's no use. I have to go home at some point. Besides, I can't avoid My Asshole Brother forever because that'll mean avoiding my niece forever, and as much as I hate being over a barrel, I can't have that. If I miss them today, fine. Next time, I'll have to fucking play nice. Because I'm supposed to be the bigger man, even though he isn't, because no one sees him as not being the bigger man.
Until then, though, maybe I'll stop by Dairy Queen before coming home today. I mean, it's hot out there.
A Tale Of Two Stripper Parties, Part Two
I believe that the second party happened the night following the milestone, mind-blowing first. But this was back in early March, more than four months ago, so I could be wrong.
I met ******e at one of *****a's parties. We established a quick rapport. And even though I didn't get a dance from her, we exchanged numbers in case she could do something on the side. And I knew she would do something on the side because I surreptitiously whipped out my cock on her and she didn't freak out.
I continued to flirt with her through texting. But when I got really horny and asked for services and prices, she threw the question back at me: "What do you want?" Now, when someone replies to a question I have with a question, I figure that gives me carte blanche to ask for anything, even if it's ridiculous. Hey, she gives me the opportunity to ask for the moon, the moon is what I will ask.
So I say, "OK ... uh, can I have sex with you without a condom?" I was joking. OK, I was sort of joking. No, wait, I wasn't really joking at all.
******e didn't cotton to that well: "If you want a Wal-Mart whore, be my guest, but that ain't me," and I'm pretty sure she didn't say that, but that was her sentiment. I mean, she seemed pretty upset that I asked for sex the way God intended. I did not bring up the fact that she didn't say she wouldn't do it because that might anger her further.
I didn't know what to say after that. That didn't seem to anger her, however. I don't know who re-initiated communication, but we got to talking again a bit after that, probably because of a party she was working. Eventually, in preparation of another party (or maybe this was the party after she got turned off by what I asked for -- again, I can't remember), I agreed on a price for what I thought was a handjob. I think ******e intimated things to me that, even though it wouldn't be a rimjob, would leave me satisfied.
This was back in *****a's house, by the way. After waiting it was finally time to see what she's got. So I begin to undress ... no, no, no, says *****e, I have to keep my porno pants on. And instantly I knew that she fucked me over. She was trying to be all seductive and shit, but to me she was stalling so she could get out of there without any cum on her hands or even without looking at my pee-pee. I don't care that I didn't specifically say "touch my pee-pee" when we texted back-and-forth; she was supposed to, and she didn't.
But wait. I go back to our flirty texts and she said that whenever I give her money I am -- and I don't know if I have this right because, hey, it's been months -- "making an investment in our" ... uh, I guess it would be a relationship. Now, I didn't exactly know what ******e meant. I did draw the line at some of the things she finally requested from me. For example, there was no fucking way I could pay her more than $200 at a time. She also insisted that for all the shit I want her to do to me -- up to and including unprotected sex -- we would have to get to know each other first -- by, for example, taking her out for a drink. You mean, like an escort, right? (I didn't say that to her.) I understand that what I have partaken for, well, more than a decade isn't too far from hiring an escort. Nevertheless, hearing that was a huge red flag for me.
But trying to think back to my mindset at that time, I guess I was OK with whatever $150 got me. It didn't seem like this "investment" was getting me anything, but this is where "but wait" got better. All this time we were talking. I had made it known to ******e that I did not appreciate this small talk because I felt she was screwing me over. But after addressing the elephant in the room I began to get over myself.
All this time, even though I had my porno pants on, my fly was open. That is when ******e opened it just a little. She commented on how furry I was down there; I told her that I didn't feel the need to manscape. Seeing an opening (pun intended) I unbuttoned myself. At first she didn't like that, but then she began to dive deep into the joy a woman derives from a man with shaven pubic hair. She then got up and pulled down her panties, which had been on all this time. She was neatly groomed -- not bare, like most women nowadays (and don't get my started as to why I think that's insane), but she has a trimmed strip that made her look both like a grown and a tidy woman.
That's when I really started to loosen up. I enjoyed my conversation with her, but this was when I finally felt like I was getting my money's worth. ******e didn't give up on me, and maybe because I calmed down she finally gave me a little somethin'-somethin'. Further delving into the manners of shaving my pubes, she finally grabs my cock in order to demonstrate how much of a pain in the ass it is for a woman to go down on a man only to come face-to-face with a swath of long and stringy hair. She held onto my dick after she made her point, possibly to give me the extra I so nakedly wanted. I think I thickened myself. Hopefully I did.
That's when another stripper, Alexis, came in to look for her jacket. I got up and laid by my side, pants open delicately so Alexis could see my penis sticking out from amongst my hairs like a thistle and flower nestled by its leaves. She might not have been paying attention, though.
Alexis' hunt for her jacket was a signal that the party was over. ******e and I had spoken for so long that we went well past the end time of the party. What turned out to be a useless conversation turned out to be a deep one. I like being the last guy at a party. And I would have dropped my pants and shown every stripper there my main vein, but *****a had her sister there, and she doesn't do that shit, so I didn't. Instead I waited for ******e to get dressed so I could escort (pun intended) her to her car. I actually find her to be quite charming, even fascinating. And I hope she didn't think my "investment" to her was a waste of time.
Unfortunately that was the last party I have seen her at. We don't text, either. My last communication with her was around Memorial Day. She said she needed to know if there were any other parties I had heard of because she wanted to barge into the roster and work. ******e said she would not be available for six weeks afterward. Where is she going? Stripping out-of-state? Jail? I don't know, but if she is only gone for six weeks, she should be back around now, so maybe I'll contact her again and maybe, just maybe, she can bewitch me once more ... and possibly step up the physical contact!
I met ******e at one of *****a's parties. We established a quick rapport. And even though I didn't get a dance from her, we exchanged numbers in case she could do something on the side. And I knew she would do something on the side because I surreptitiously whipped out my cock on her and she didn't freak out.
I continued to flirt with her through texting. But when I got really horny and asked for services and prices, she threw the question back at me: "What do you want?" Now, when someone replies to a question I have with a question, I figure that gives me carte blanche to ask for anything, even if it's ridiculous. Hey, she gives me the opportunity to ask for the moon, the moon is what I will ask.
So I say, "OK ... uh, can I have sex with you without a condom?" I was joking. OK, I was sort of joking. No, wait, I wasn't really joking at all.
******e didn't cotton to that well: "If you want a Wal-Mart whore, be my guest, but that ain't me," and I'm pretty sure she didn't say that, but that was her sentiment. I mean, she seemed pretty upset that I asked for sex the way God intended. I did not bring up the fact that she didn't say she wouldn't do it because that might anger her further.
I didn't know what to say after that. That didn't seem to anger her, however. I don't know who re-initiated communication, but we got to talking again a bit after that, probably because of a party she was working. Eventually, in preparation of another party (or maybe this was the party after she got turned off by what I asked for -- again, I can't remember), I agreed on a price for what I thought was a handjob. I think ******e intimated things to me that, even though it wouldn't be a rimjob, would leave me satisfied.
This was back in *****a's house, by the way. After waiting it was finally time to see what she's got. So I begin to undress ... no, no, no, says *****e, I have to keep my porno pants on. And instantly I knew that she fucked me over. She was trying to be all seductive and shit, but to me she was stalling so she could get out of there without any cum on her hands or even without looking at my pee-pee. I don't care that I didn't specifically say "touch my pee-pee" when we texted back-and-forth; she was supposed to, and she didn't.
But wait. I go back to our flirty texts and she said that whenever I give her money I am -- and I don't know if I have this right because, hey, it's been months -- "making an investment in our" ... uh, I guess it would be a relationship. Now, I didn't exactly know what ******e meant. I did draw the line at some of the things she finally requested from me. For example, there was no fucking way I could pay her more than $200 at a time. She also insisted that for all the shit I want her to do to me -- up to and including unprotected sex -- we would have to get to know each other first -- by, for example, taking her out for a drink. You mean, like an escort, right? (I didn't say that to her.) I understand that what I have partaken for, well, more than a decade isn't too far from hiring an escort. Nevertheless, hearing that was a huge red flag for me.
But trying to think back to my mindset at that time, I guess I was OK with whatever $150 got me. It didn't seem like this "investment" was getting me anything, but this is where "but wait" got better. All this time we were talking. I had made it known to ******e that I did not appreciate this small talk because I felt she was screwing me over. But after addressing the elephant in the room I began to get over myself.
All this time, even though I had my porno pants on, my fly was open. That is when ******e opened it just a little. She commented on how furry I was down there; I told her that I didn't feel the need to manscape. Seeing an opening (pun intended) I unbuttoned myself. At first she didn't like that, but then she began to dive deep into the joy a woman derives from a man with shaven pubic hair. She then got up and pulled down her panties, which had been on all this time. She was neatly groomed -- not bare, like most women nowadays (and don't get my started as to why I think that's insane), but she has a trimmed strip that made her look both like a grown and a tidy woman.
That's when I really started to loosen up. I enjoyed my conversation with her, but this was when I finally felt like I was getting my money's worth. ******e didn't give up on me, and maybe because I calmed down she finally gave me a little somethin'-somethin'. Further delving into the manners of shaving my pubes, she finally grabs my cock in order to demonstrate how much of a pain in the ass it is for a woman to go down on a man only to come face-to-face with a swath of long and stringy hair. She held onto my dick after she made her point, possibly to give me the extra I so nakedly wanted. I think I thickened myself. Hopefully I did.
That's when another stripper, Alexis, came in to look for her jacket. I got up and laid by my side, pants open delicately so Alexis could see my penis sticking out from amongst my hairs like a thistle and flower nestled by its leaves. She might not have been paying attention, though.
Alexis' hunt for her jacket was a signal that the party was over. ******e and I had spoken for so long that we went well past the end time of the party. What turned out to be a useless conversation turned out to be a deep one. I like being the last guy at a party. And I would have dropped my pants and shown every stripper there my main vein, but *****a had her sister there, and she doesn't do that shit, so I didn't. Instead I waited for ******e to get dressed so I could escort (pun intended) her to her car. I actually find her to be quite charming, even fascinating. And I hope she didn't think my "investment" to her was a waste of time.
Unfortunately that was the last party I have seen her at. We don't text, either. My last communication with her was around Memorial Day. She said she needed to know if there were any other parties I had heard of because she wanted to barge into the roster and work. ******e said she would not be available for six weeks afterward. Where is she going? Stripping out-of-state? Jail? I don't know, but if she is only gone for six weeks, she should be back around now, so maybe I'll contact her again and maybe, just maybe, she can bewitch me once more ... and possibly step up the physical contact!
Friday, July 14, 2017
Jetlag Five Days Later
Woke up about 75 minutes ago after being asleep for, what, ten, 10 1/2 hours through the evening last night. I knew I was tired, seeing that I had fallen asleep every evening since I got back from Hong Kong. But I had been trying to fight it, even exercising Wednesday evening after dinner to readjust my body clock. Didn't really work; I had sleep debt I had to pay Wednesday, and last (Thursday) night I apparently had to pay that back with interest.
Not that I am complaining. I did wake up after this, so I'm not dead. And I feel refreshed. And I have time to type this blog post for the day. Now I hope to not fall asleep during the work day today just because I woke up at 5:30 this morning.
Wish me luck.
Not that I am complaining. I did wake up after this, so I'm not dead. And I feel refreshed. And I have time to type this blog post for the day. Now I hope to not fall asleep during the work day today just because I woke up at 5:30 this morning.
Wish me luck.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Bad Vibes
So I started a new test scoring project Monday. The bad: The room boss, whom I've had once before, is not turning out to be the person I thought she was. I get the feeling people in the room don't respect her, and good reason. When you actually yell at a person to not talk while she's talking, like she's in an elementary school teacher, you kind of lose me, and I don't care how rude that person was. Beyond that, she seems both blunt and clueless when it comes to instruction. She often stumbles over phrases and frequently loses her place when it comes to reviewing test essays and notes that she wrote down. And yet when she tries to answer a question, the tone in her unequivocal retort is such bullshit that some of the people I am sitting right next to are exasperated at how she acts. I have nothing personal against her (at least not yet), but such musings have to be reflected on her performance review.
The other implication that she told us when we started still bugs the shit out of me, but at least she was honest. She told us that the aim of these scores we're giving to these tests was, to put it in her words, "help our replacement." These scores are going to be given to an artificial intelligence algorithm so that it can ... man, typing these words hurt more than I thought it would ... grade essays so that we humans will be out of a job.
A part of me still doesn't fucking believe this. (And by the way, I don't really understand why the room boss had to say that, or at least could have not said it so matter-of-factly. Read the room, for God's sake!) I really don't know how, for example, a robot can understand all the nuances and meanings of a kid's words, phrases, sentences and ideas, I don't care how smart it is. Besides, will a state's Department of Education really rely on the judgement of a computer to tell how good of a test-taker a parent's child is? We may be humans for hire, but better that than a soulless, faceless program. Finally, if humans can't grade tests, shit, what will we do for work?
At the risk of sounding naive, that last question may be a silly one. There seems to be more and more standardized tests states are administering to kids in order to evaluate their aptitude and the ability of their schools to teach children. Both companies I work for say that they're getting more and more contracts for projects. That massive project at the Mall Of America was new, and with a few hiccups lasted more than a month; and that I am actually working on a project in mid-July, way past the usual test scoring season, is proof that leads me to believe that we can't be losing work in the near or even immediate future (even if this particular project is, theoretically, going to end because an algorithm will take our place very soon). But robots are taking everyone's job; a person, especially one who doesn't have benefits attached to his job, can never be too sure.
One season at a time, I hope. Meanwhile I hope that someone, anyone, is going to bring in candy for the room. No one bought or brought anything for that plastic tub up front yesterday, and that's ridiculous. How can we get through reading the same essay for eight hours without some sugar?
The other implication that she told us when we started still bugs the shit out of me, but at least she was honest. She told us that the aim of these scores we're giving to these tests was, to put it in her words, "help our replacement." These scores are going to be given to an artificial intelligence algorithm so that it can ... man, typing these words hurt more than I thought it would ... grade essays so that we humans will be out of a job.
A part of me still doesn't fucking believe this. (And by the way, I don't really understand why the room boss had to say that, or at least could have not said it so matter-of-factly. Read the room, for God's sake!) I really don't know how, for example, a robot can understand all the nuances and meanings of a kid's words, phrases, sentences and ideas, I don't care how smart it is. Besides, will a state's Department of Education really rely on the judgement of a computer to tell how good of a test-taker a parent's child is? We may be humans for hire, but better that than a soulless, faceless program. Finally, if humans can't grade tests, shit, what will we do for work?
At the risk of sounding naive, that last question may be a silly one. There seems to be more and more standardized tests states are administering to kids in order to evaluate their aptitude and the ability of their schools to teach children. Both companies I work for say that they're getting more and more contracts for projects. That massive project at the Mall Of America was new, and with a few hiccups lasted more than a month; and that I am actually working on a project in mid-July, way past the usual test scoring season, is proof that leads me to believe that we can't be losing work in the near or even immediate future (even if this particular project is, theoretically, going to end because an algorithm will take our place very soon). But robots are taking everyone's job; a person, especially one who doesn't have benefits attached to his job, can never be too sure.
One season at a time, I hope. Meanwhile I hope that someone, anyone, is going to bring in candy for the room. No one bought or brought anything for that plastic tub up front yesterday, and that's ridiculous. How can we get through reading the same essay for eight hours without some sugar?
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
I Think I Done Fucked Up
So as I have told you before, most of my friends on Facebook are hot women I've never met IRL and probably never will -- models, Playboy Playmates, pornstars, fitness babes and other women whose photos I've gotten hard to and decided, "What the hell, I'll friend them to see if I she replies back."
I have lost several of those hotties. Some I probably don't even know it. But sometimes I lose them because I say something. It's happened before. It happened again Monday, and this time I feel really bad about it.
She's a model, but she is also a Denny's waitress in eastern Washington state. It's those Cinderella types, the ones who are secretly hot under people's noses, who turn me on. And she seemed to be a cool chick too. She's a normal girl -- has friends, complains about work, and most importantly, loves her late Grandmother. I can totally relate. I don't think we've had any deep conversations through Messenger, but she commented on my comments a couple times. Most importantly, she's a babe.
On Monday she had a new, pithy status update: "Hot tub? Yes!" I love a girl in a hot tub. So I said in the comments, "How about a picture?"
THAT'S ALL I SAID!!! THAT'S ALL I SAID!!!
I checked several minutes later to see she replied. Oh, goody. I click on the link ... and it says the status update is not available. Uh-oh. I look her up on Facebook ... and it said next to her name, "Add Friend."
Oh, goddammit.
I thought she would be cool with it. I didn't think, at all, that she'd be so disgusted and/or freaked out that she would defriend me. At the very least she could do what another model did: Chastise me and ask me nicely to delete my comment. Phew. But no reprieve here. Everything we said about her job at Denny's and her late grandmother -- pew! Out the window.
But you know, maybe I didn't have the right to think that she react coolly to what I said. Maybe I should have realized that I don't know these people at all, so they might be offended at a perverted comment. And I could be all cavalier and go, "Well, if these model babes don't like what I say, those aren't the babes I want to follow." But you know, maybe I done fucked this one up.
I apologized to her through Messenger. But I think I lost this one for good.
I have lost several of those hotties. Some I probably don't even know it. But sometimes I lose them because I say something. It's happened before. It happened again Monday, and this time I feel really bad about it.
She's a model, but she is also a Denny's waitress in eastern Washington state. It's those Cinderella types, the ones who are secretly hot under people's noses, who turn me on. And she seemed to be a cool chick too. She's a normal girl -- has friends, complains about work, and most importantly, loves her late Grandmother. I can totally relate. I don't think we've had any deep conversations through Messenger, but she commented on my comments a couple times. Most importantly, she's a babe.
On Monday she had a new, pithy status update: "Hot tub? Yes!" I love a girl in a hot tub. So I said in the comments, "How about a picture?"
THAT'S ALL I SAID!!! THAT'S ALL I SAID!!!
I checked several minutes later to see she replied. Oh, goody. I click on the link ... and it says the status update is not available. Uh-oh. I look her up on Facebook ... and it said next to her name, "Add Friend."
Oh, goddammit.
I thought she would be cool with it. I didn't think, at all, that she'd be so disgusted and/or freaked out that she would defriend me. At the very least she could do what another model did: Chastise me and ask me nicely to delete my comment. Phew. But no reprieve here. Everything we said about her job at Denny's and her late grandmother -- pew! Out the window.
But you know, maybe I didn't have the right to think that she react coolly to what I said. Maybe I should have realized that I don't know these people at all, so they might be offended at a perverted comment. And I could be all cavalier and go, "Well, if these model babes don't like what I say, those aren't the babes I want to follow." But you know, maybe I done fucked this one up.
I apologized to her through Messenger. But I think I lost this one for good.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Seriously, $500?!
This has gotten ridiculous.
My parents have a dispute over someone regarding a house they wanted to buy, then didn't. As part of the initial feeling-out process, they had to throw in a deposit to the title company that would be held in escrow. At some point, for whatever reason (and I'm not going to even ask), my parents decided against it. And so they wanted their deposit back. It appears as though they had done everything right in order to get it back. But let's just say there has been some dispute over that.
Finally, we (well, actually I on behalf of My Father) reached out to the seller's reps and asked for it back. They came back with an offer to split the deposit in order to be done with it. My Father wanted the week I was in Hong Kong to think about it.
After thinking about it Sunday night and asking Mother Monday morning, he came up with a counter-proposal: How about instead of 50/50, we take two-thirds and then one-third? They actually have asked me to e-mail them asking for what amounts to an extra $500.
Jesus friggin' Christ, why?
My God, I'm going to do it. I was supposed to e-mail them earlier tonight, but I passed out -- most likely due to exhaustion, but it might be because I was so fucking blown away by the audacity and pettiness of this request. I can't believe they're going to quibble with such a puny amount of money. But yep, this is what I'm going to do once I blog post this.
Seriously, $500?
My parents have a dispute over someone regarding a house they wanted to buy, then didn't. As part of the initial feeling-out process, they had to throw in a deposit to the title company that would be held in escrow. At some point, for whatever reason (and I'm not going to even ask), my parents decided against it. And so they wanted their deposit back. It appears as though they had done everything right in order to get it back. But let's just say there has been some dispute over that.
Finally, we (well, actually I on behalf of My Father) reached out to the seller's reps and asked for it back. They came back with an offer to split the deposit in order to be done with it. My Father wanted the week I was in Hong Kong to think about it.
After thinking about it Sunday night and asking Mother Monday morning, he came up with a counter-proposal: How about instead of 50/50, we take two-thirds and then one-third? They actually have asked me to e-mail them asking for what amounts to an extra $500.
Jesus friggin' Christ, why?
My God, I'm going to do it. I was supposed to e-mail them earlier tonight, but I passed out -- most likely due to exhaustion, but it might be because I was so fucking blown away by the audacity and pettiness of this request. I can't believe they're going to quibble with such a puny amount of money. But yep, this is what I'm going to do once I blog post this.
Seriously, $500?
Monday, July 10, 2017
Expenses Without Receipt
OK, starting from Sunday, July 9:
- Actually we start on Saturday, July 8. Still am sticking with my policy of not putting in this EWR anything I spent in Hong Kong because the conversion is too complicated. But I did get a white chocolate mocha from Seattle's Best at the airport in Seattle-Tacoma on my way back home. Did you know that Seattle's Best is now owned by Starbucks? Friend told me that a long time ago. With tip: $5.79
- Tuesday, Independence Day ... on my way to Hong Kong I went to Ivar's Seafood Bar at SEATAC, a place recommended here. I got everything the article recommended through a combo, and with the tax the damn total price ended with, like, four cents, and I put all my change into a purse I threw into my bag because I didn't want to deal with taking my coins out of my pants when going through security. But I didn't know exactly where the pouch was. After about 15 seconds the checkout person just told me, "Forget it." I kind of thought she might say that, but I thank her nevertheless. Total: $17.
- Monday, July 3: Actually told the truth; told my parents today that I didn't have to work. Went to Caribou to get a dollar off a large drink. With mini-cookie and tip: $6.55.
- On Sunday, July 2 I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division). Hadn't been there in a while, and with Grandmother's death I wasn't in a festive occasion. But I didn't want to be such a stranger that people start to wonder about me, so I popped my head in for an hour. Madison was there and she worked me over for a lapdance. Again. With tips for only two of the girls there (all the strippers working nowadays are new!) and coffee and the total came out to: $27.75.
- Now we go all the way back to Thursday, June 29, where I started off my day at the combo Caribou/Einstein for a bagel and mocha. With tip: $8.32.
- After the study at the U., then going down south to pick up a watch from this chick on the side, I went to Cupcake at the Megamall for a cupcake, which I haven't had in a long time. Great place, still wonder how they're still in business. With tip: $3.25.
- On Wednesday the 28th -- uh, I was really busy. Kind of happens when you have time off. Started my day at the Starbucks close to my shrink's. Mocha plus tip: $5.02.
- I confessed to my psychiatrist that I was driving down to see ****e to get blown by her. Did not know she was willing to have unprotected sex too, woo-hoo! Guess I no longer had to be afraid of not being able to cum without jerking myself off! Didn't like her reaching for the money while she was telling me how to work her remote control, though. Total: $120.
- Oh, after that I had to go to the library to look one more time to see if I should change my flight to get a cheaper flight. Didn't. Did print out an invoice and coupon, though: 40 cents.
- Tuesday, June 27 -- first day off in a long time. Started off at Caribou, where I could get some at a rock bottom price (I got a chocolate croissant) if I bought a large drink (I got a mocha). Minus trivia and with tip it cost: $6.09.
- I then went to Lisa's in downtown to finally get my Docs shined for the first time in, oh, about ten months. Last time she said that she wanted to use her own shoe polish instead of the Doc's ones I bought and bring with me because the combination of the Dubbin' and polish don't give my boots the shine Lisa thinks her polish would. I acceded to her wishes and showed up with just my shoes on. Her polish did give it some shine and I think they're protecting them just fine. So I said I would alternate bringing my stuff and using her stuff from now on. Fair trade. I did not have a whole lot of small bills with me, however, so I left a tip that I know is much smaller than what I usually give. A total of: $10.
- I then had to burn rubber to get to the theater to watch Pirates Of The Caribbean 5, the latest sequel in what has become to be a tired exercise in revenue-generating for the Disney Company. It wasn't good, and I suspected that the events in this movie contradicts what happened in the overall narrative of the POTC "universe" established (supposedly) in past films. Also, it wasn't that exciting. But hey, it was great to see Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley back. I wonder how much money it took to bring back Knightley, especially considering she didn't have to talk at all. Grade: Uh, C, and that might be being generous. Total for ticket, popcorn and pop: $9.64.
- On Monday the 26th we finished the project a few hours early, so I spent the rest of the afternoon at a place close to the test scoring place called the Sunshine Factory. I don't know how long it's been around, but I'm astounded that there is a restaurant called the Sunshine Factory and that it hasn't closed down in the year since I last went there. Hey, more power to them. And I love their generous Happy Hour, where I could get a burger (I got their version of the Jucy Lucy) for an unbeatable price. With beer and tip it all cost me just: $9.60.
- On Sunday, June 25 I started off at Caffetto. Wanted to wean myself off of caffeine, so I got a hot chocolate. With tip: $3.50.
- This was the day where I was going to go to the nursing home and break the news to Grandmother's best friend that she died. To get myself ready, I decided to have lunch, but I didn't know where. I decided I was going to just drive around and find the first fast food place I see. I saw a Subway, but when I crossed the mall area where the Cub Foods was close by, I saw a little food truck that was set up right in front of it. It was a charity truck, where members of the Bloomington Jefferson cheerleading squad was selling hot dogs and stuff to raise money. Seemed like fate I would eat there for lunch. Hot dog, chips, Coke and donation: $3.25.
- After coming back from breaking the news to her (she started to cry, but then she moved on to other things, so I don't know if her short-term memory is bad), I went to Great Clips. As of Sunday I did not know the funeral arrangements (Grandmother's grandson told me the next day, Monday), but I wanted to get my hair cut just in case I could go. Turned out it was the right move. Had a coupon, so with tip it came out to be: $15.
- Back on Saturday the 24th I went to Klein Bank. Back when my parents still had The Store, Mother made me open up an account there in order to avoid fees on transactions with vendors. There's still money in it, so I have to keep depositing money in it to keep it active. Except it had become inactive when I went there. Had to fill out a form (the account's in my name) in order to reactive it. OK. I only put in: $1.
- Went to the library to print out invoices I needed to make for my folks. Total: 40 cents.
- Went to the United game that evening. Last win (as of press time) for that team. Hot dog and Redd's: $14.50.
- Finished the night at Glam Doll, the new one close by TCF Bank Stadium and my house. Got two donuts (both flecked in Pride colors because it was Pride Weekend) and chased it down with a beer, Insight's Banshee Cutter. Should you pair beer with donuts? With tip: $11.75.
Sunday, July 9, 2017
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Timberwolves (Last Week: -5). In a pretty dreary screening week for local sports (so thank Buddha I wasn't around and instead headed to Hong Kong to say goodbye to Grandmother), I've decided to give this week's top spot to a team that's not even in-season.
Last year's massive increase in the salary cap thanks to the start of massive TV contracts have turned the Silly Season in the NBA into the Stupid Season. There definitely are alpha dogs (Warriors, Celtics) and teams that have no shot at anything substantial. But because there is so much money, every team is churning through players, even if they are just doing so as a receptacle for bad contracts from players teams don't want.
The Timberwolves ... well, I don't think their trade for Jimmy Butler is that earth-shaking now that they sent Ricky Rubio and got back in return Jeff Teague. Butler by himself doesn't make Minnesota the contender to the Dubs in the West. But this week they did start to play by signing players. They are role players to be sure, but they are putting feet in the water, and I will take it on faith that these are good acquisitions. Jamal Crawford helps with the outside shooting this squad still lacks, and Taj Gibson is a locker room fella who will spell some minutes for Karl-Anthony Towns and Gorgui Deng at the Forward spots. Gibson is also a former Chicago Bull under Head Coach Tom Thibodeau, so Thibs' plan to Get The Band Back Together continues apace. Whether it leads the Wolves to title contenders soon remains to be seen. Oh yeah, it doesn't help Gibson's image as a leader in the lockerroom when he's arrested in New York City for driving with a suspended license. It could be worse though; why was his license suspended? Still, for what he and Crawford can contribute on the court, and because the other three teams on this list had shittier weeks, the Woofie Dogs can claim a summer title: Best team on The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey for the week.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -3). Have you heard of the show Gleeman & The Geek, airing Sunday afternoons on KFAN? They are a baseball-only, sabermetric show that talks all things Twins. Great show, even though their fealty to advanced stats makes me think they'll raise kids that'll become serial killers (don't ask, that just makes sense to me). They talked about how, if the Twinks are still contenders around the trade deadline, they need to make a trade for three players: A #3 or #4 Pitcher; a bona fide reliever; and an Outfielder who can hit. Both Gleeman and John Bonnes (the "Geek") say that these are trades for which the organization can give up plenty of prospects for which it has been determined they don't have much of a future in the big leagues, so why not give them up and try and make a run for the postseason?
They're right. This team isn't awful; they lost the series in Kansas City, came home and took two-of-three against the Angels, and are right now trying to avoid a split with Baltimore. Their treading of water now has them a couple games behind Cleveland in the division, so there's a greater chance that the club will throw in the towel instead of fortifying for a playoff run. But unless they lose for two weeks (which could happen), why not take a flyer? They're probably going to finish in the middle in baseball this year; might as well try and get closer to the top and risk falling closer to the bottom than just staying where they are.
This week is the All-Star Game. Major League Baseball resumes play afterward; the Twins begin the second half of the season in Houston for three next weekend.
#-3: Lynx (Last Week: -1). I knew it! I knew it! I knew that the Jynx weren't going to get out of last week with an unblemished record; I just didn't know how. Turns out they were susceptible to the let-down. They concentrated on taking out the Los Angeles Sparks, the team that came into Target Center and humiliated them by winning Game 5 and thus the WNBA Championship, defeating them at Xcel 88-77 Thursday. But then came playing the Sky in Chicago, and even though it was Saturday, they seemed beat and thus got clobbered, 100-76. Kind of embarrassing, and it makes me worried that this team is not as deep as it should be.
Since MLB is in its All-Star Break I always thought this was a great time for the WNBA to accelerate its schedule. Have every team play at least twice between Monday and Thursday to fill the void left by baseball. But no; the Lynx will visit Phoenix on Friday, and that's it, at least for our team.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -4). I'm still trying to give these guys wide latitude, but now that their winless streak has reached three and their losing streak two after a desultory 1-0 loss to Columbus at TCF Bank Stadium Independence Night, it's back to desperation mode for the Loons. It's becoming apparent that this side has no depth, and so the summer transfer window comes at no better time for them to find bodies that can play. They need ... well, they need everybody, but at least one player from each line (Goaltender [and that's a maybe], Defenseman, Midfielder and Forward). Chemistry issues will come later, but right now they just need subs, let alone guys that can play 90 minutes. Because any faint hopes United can contend for a playoff spot is going right out the window.
There's an exhibition match against Mexican club Atlas Saturday, so the next "real" game comes on the 19th.
Last year's massive increase in the salary cap thanks to the start of massive TV contracts have turned the Silly Season in the NBA into the Stupid Season. There definitely are alpha dogs (Warriors, Celtics) and teams that have no shot at anything substantial. But because there is so much money, every team is churning through players, even if they are just doing so as a receptacle for bad contracts from players teams don't want.
The Timberwolves ... well, I don't think their trade for Jimmy Butler is that earth-shaking now that they sent Ricky Rubio and got back in return Jeff Teague. Butler by himself doesn't make Minnesota the contender to the Dubs in the West. But this week they did start to play by signing players. They are role players to be sure, but they are putting feet in the water, and I will take it on faith that these are good acquisitions. Jamal Crawford helps with the outside shooting this squad still lacks, and Taj Gibson is a locker room fella who will spell some minutes for Karl-Anthony Towns and Gorgui Deng at the Forward spots. Gibson is also a former Chicago Bull under Head Coach Tom Thibodeau, so Thibs' plan to Get The Band Back Together continues apace. Whether it leads the Wolves to title contenders soon remains to be seen. Oh yeah, it doesn't help Gibson's image as a leader in the lockerroom when he's arrested in New York City for driving with a suspended license. It could be worse though; why was his license suspended? Still, for what he and Crawford can contribute on the court, and because the other three teams on this list had shittier weeks, the Woofie Dogs can claim a summer title: Best team on The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey for the week.
#-2: Twins (Last Week: -3). Have you heard of the show Gleeman & The Geek, airing Sunday afternoons on KFAN? They are a baseball-only, sabermetric show that talks all things Twins. Great show, even though their fealty to advanced stats makes me think they'll raise kids that'll become serial killers (don't ask, that just makes sense to me). They talked about how, if the Twinks are still contenders around the trade deadline, they need to make a trade for three players: A #3 or #4 Pitcher; a bona fide reliever; and an Outfielder who can hit. Both Gleeman and John Bonnes (the "Geek") say that these are trades for which the organization can give up plenty of prospects for which it has been determined they don't have much of a future in the big leagues, so why not give them up and try and make a run for the postseason?
They're right. This team isn't awful; they lost the series in Kansas City, came home and took two-of-three against the Angels, and are right now trying to avoid a split with Baltimore. Their treading of water now has them a couple games behind Cleveland in the division, so there's a greater chance that the club will throw in the towel instead of fortifying for a playoff run. But unless they lose for two weeks (which could happen), why not take a flyer? They're probably going to finish in the middle in baseball this year; might as well try and get closer to the top and risk falling closer to the bottom than just staying where they are.
This week is the All-Star Game. Major League Baseball resumes play afterward; the Twins begin the second half of the season in Houston for three next weekend.
#-3: Lynx (Last Week: -1). I knew it! I knew it! I knew that the Jynx weren't going to get out of last week with an unblemished record; I just didn't know how. Turns out they were susceptible to the let-down. They concentrated on taking out the Los Angeles Sparks, the team that came into Target Center and humiliated them by winning Game 5 and thus the WNBA Championship, defeating them at Xcel 88-77 Thursday. But then came playing the Sky in Chicago, and even though it was Saturday, they seemed beat and thus got clobbered, 100-76. Kind of embarrassing, and it makes me worried that this team is not as deep as it should be.
Since MLB is in its All-Star Break I always thought this was a great time for the WNBA to accelerate its schedule. Have every team play at least twice between Monday and Thursday to fill the void left by baseball. But no; the Lynx will visit Phoenix on Friday, and that's it, at least for our team.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -4). I'm still trying to give these guys wide latitude, but now that their winless streak has reached three and their losing streak two after a desultory 1-0 loss to Columbus at TCF Bank Stadium Independence Night, it's back to desperation mode for the Loons. It's becoming apparent that this side has no depth, and so the summer transfer window comes at no better time for them to find bodies that can play. They need ... well, they need everybody, but at least one player from each line (Goaltender [and that's a maybe], Defenseman, Midfielder and Forward). Chemistry issues will come later, but right now they just need subs, let alone guys that can play 90 minutes. Because any faint hopes United can contend for a playoff spot is going right out the window.
There's an exhibition match against Mexican club Atlas Saturday, so the next "real" game comes on the 19th.
Saturday, July 8, 2017
My Brother Remains An Unmitigated Fucking Asshole
So I'm home, and I'm so glad that trip to Hong Kong is over. Got through Grandmother's cremation, for one. The other turned out to be a disappointment: My brother remains an unmitigated fucking asshole.
Man, just thinking about how he treated me is triggering violent thoughts in me. It's really hard to type this out. But here goes.
It started before that motherfucker even touched down at the airport, texting that I was a dickhead out of the blue after I asked an innocent question he thought was stupid. He does that all the time. He always did that. Either because of Grandmother or because he immediately went back to being an asshole again, I just out and out threatened to punch him the face if he called me a dickhead again. Oh, and I called him an asshole. He did call me a dickhead, and I didn't have the balls to go through with my promise and coldcock him, even though I had a couple chances once we got back to the hotel. But in the back of my mind I knew that I couldn't show up to see Grandmother one final time with him having one black eye and one having one busted-up hand. And I'm trying to think through this -- that no matter how My Asshole Brother bullies me, if I hit him, I can't come back from that, no matter how justified I feel. So yes, I broke a promise, but I'm trying to believe that I did the right thing.
It continued after we got home from shopping after the cremation and dinner with the family. Sister and I stayed up before we had dinner to go to, and I started philosophizing because I'm deep. After that, and because I said something, My Asshole Brother says, "Oh, before I forget -- did you bring earplugs?" That was a shot at me. I, frankly, was taken aback. It hurt me, it really did. But I realize that deep musings are things that I always do, and I was having a conversation with my sister and not him, and she seemed fine with it, so, um, fuck him.
The worst thing, though, was the dinner. My Asshole Brother becomes an entirely different person when he's a social situation. With us he's a surly, sullen prick who only speaks in insults. With my family (such as my sister's destination wedding), he turns into a loud, obnoxious motormouth who is always cracking really shitty jokes. Oh, and he drinks too, a lot. Seriously, he's a fucking drunk. So's my uncle, I'm afraid. Friday night they were trying to drink each other under the table. Neither did, but they were plenty shit-faced.
When we said goodbye, my uncle was so drunk that he started walking behind My Asshole Brother up to our hotel room; his wife (my aunt) and his daughters (my cousins) had to coax him to walk back the other way to their place. That's when I mentioned to my sis, "He seems to be half in the damn bag." And that's when My Asshole Brother repeated what I said but grumbled -- you know, how you sound when you recount someone saying something stupid? You know, a dumb-guy voice? That's what he was saying. And then I said something else, maybe I was insulting him, and he did it again. Seriously, this fucker is 42 years old and he's reduced to repeating what people say to him like a boy 30 years younger. And drunk.
I could go on, but I can't. All I wonder now is where our "relationship" is now that he basically set it on fire with his juvenile behavior. I really think I shouldn't see him for a while. And so if my parents are planning dinner with him and his wife and daughter ... man, I think I have to be busy then.
Man, just thinking about how he treated me is triggering violent thoughts in me. It's really hard to type this out. But here goes.
It started before that motherfucker even touched down at the airport, texting that I was a dickhead out of the blue after I asked an innocent question he thought was stupid. He does that all the time. He always did that. Either because of Grandmother or because he immediately went back to being an asshole again, I just out and out threatened to punch him the face if he called me a dickhead again. Oh, and I called him an asshole. He did call me a dickhead, and I didn't have the balls to go through with my promise and coldcock him, even though I had a couple chances once we got back to the hotel. But in the back of my mind I knew that I couldn't show up to see Grandmother one final time with him having one black eye and one having one busted-up hand. And I'm trying to think through this -- that no matter how My Asshole Brother bullies me, if I hit him, I can't come back from that, no matter how justified I feel. So yes, I broke a promise, but I'm trying to believe that I did the right thing.
It continued after we got home from shopping after the cremation and dinner with the family. Sister and I stayed up before we had dinner to go to, and I started philosophizing because I'm deep. After that, and because I said something, My Asshole Brother says, "Oh, before I forget -- did you bring earplugs?" That was a shot at me. I, frankly, was taken aback. It hurt me, it really did. But I realize that deep musings are things that I always do, and I was having a conversation with my sister and not him, and she seemed fine with it, so, um, fuck him.
The worst thing, though, was the dinner. My Asshole Brother becomes an entirely different person when he's a social situation. With us he's a surly, sullen prick who only speaks in insults. With my family (such as my sister's destination wedding), he turns into a loud, obnoxious motormouth who is always cracking really shitty jokes. Oh, and he drinks too, a lot. Seriously, he's a fucking drunk. So's my uncle, I'm afraid. Friday night they were trying to drink each other under the table. Neither did, but they were plenty shit-faced.
When we said goodbye, my uncle was so drunk that he started walking behind My Asshole Brother up to our hotel room; his wife (my aunt) and his daughters (my cousins) had to coax him to walk back the other way to their place. That's when I mentioned to my sis, "He seems to be half in the damn bag." And that's when My Asshole Brother repeated what I said but grumbled -- you know, how you sound when you recount someone saying something stupid? You know, a dumb-guy voice? That's what he was saying. And then I said something else, maybe I was insulting him, and he did it again. Seriously, this fucker is 42 years old and he's reduced to repeating what people say to him like a boy 30 years younger. And drunk.
I could go on, but I can't. All I wonder now is where our "relationship" is now that he basically set it on fire with his juvenile behavior. I really think I shouldn't see him for a while. And so if my parents are planning dinner with him and his wife and daughter ... man, I think I have to be busy then.
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
The Dominoes Are Starting To Fall
I leave for Hong Kong very, very soon. May not be blog posting for a while.
Probably not the best time to blog post something deep and long, but I'll do my best to shorten it.
Yesterday I was debating whether or not to drop by My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition). I finally did because I thought I had time. There were no pushy strippers there, although that bitch of a waitress was. I did get a dance from the stalwart Jayden, so my decision panned out.
After Jayden and I got done I looked over at this wall display they have. It contains trophies the employees there won in pool and bowling tournaments. Tucked in the corner was an open pamphlet. There was a woman there. I recognize the photo from Facebook. It was Jasmine, a former stripper at this place.
The pamphlet was a funeral service brochure. Jasmine died.
I believe she was the first stripper from this club who gave me a handjob. Did it twice, although I cajoled her both times. But she did it, and therefore I am forever grateful.
The last time I saw her, I think, was when she had quit the bar but was back drinking for its Christmas party. She did an impromptu lap dance for me; she even took off her jeans and panties to flash me her pussy. I had seen her a couple times around town. She did not live too far from me. Always wondered if she needed to make some money on the side so I could get wanked by her again.
We were friends on Facebook, and after she quit that was the only way I was connected with her. And I wasn't really connected with her all that much. Besides those couple times around town, we didn't really bump into each other the past, oh, five years at least. Our relationship, such as it was, wasn't all that deep. She teased me once that she'd tell everybody at the strip bar she touched my pee-pee. In retrospect, I wish she did. Her very sporadic posts on Facebook centered around her two kids or reverse racism. The latter was strange because I believe one her kids is half-black. A stripper who's a Republican? Should not be surprised as I am, but I am.
I hadn't even heard anything from her in months, if not years, on Facebook. But she died around Memorial Day. Don't know why, but she was only 37. I have no idea what happened, and I don't know who to ask about what happened because all her stripper girlfriends have moved on.
Guess I don't know what else to say beyond this besides I didn't need another death to think about.
Alas, poor Jasmine, I knew her well. ...
Probably not the best time to blog post something deep and long, but I'll do my best to shorten it.
Yesterday I was debating whether or not to drop by My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition). I finally did because I thought I had time. There were no pushy strippers there, although that bitch of a waitress was. I did get a dance from the stalwart Jayden, so my decision panned out.
After Jayden and I got done I looked over at this wall display they have. It contains trophies the employees there won in pool and bowling tournaments. Tucked in the corner was an open pamphlet. There was a woman there. I recognize the photo from Facebook. It was Jasmine, a former stripper at this place.
The pamphlet was a funeral service brochure. Jasmine died.
I believe she was the first stripper from this club who gave me a handjob. Did it twice, although I cajoled her both times. But she did it, and therefore I am forever grateful.
The last time I saw her, I think, was when she had quit the bar but was back drinking for its Christmas party. She did an impromptu lap dance for me; she even took off her jeans and panties to flash me her pussy. I had seen her a couple times around town. She did not live too far from me. Always wondered if she needed to make some money on the side so I could get wanked by her again.
We were friends on Facebook, and after she quit that was the only way I was connected with her. And I wasn't really connected with her all that much. Besides those couple times around town, we didn't really bump into each other the past, oh, five years at least. Our relationship, such as it was, wasn't all that deep. She teased me once that she'd tell everybody at the strip bar she touched my pee-pee. In retrospect, I wish she did. Her very sporadic posts on Facebook centered around her two kids or reverse racism. The latter was strange because I believe one her kids is half-black. A stripper who's a Republican? Should not be surprised as I am, but I am.
I hadn't even heard anything from her in months, if not years, on Facebook. But she died around Memorial Day. Don't know why, but she was only 37. I have no idea what happened, and I don't know who to ask about what happened because all her stripper girlfriends have moved on.
Guess I don't know what else to say beyond this besides I didn't need another death to think about.
Alas, poor Jasmine, I knew her well. ...
Monday, July 3, 2017
Router Problems
Well of course My Fucking Father would start bitching about the wi-fi as soon as I bought a modem. We had to return the one Comcast gave us because everyone says it's stupid to keep renting it, especially since it's a combo modem/router. But as soon as I replaced it, Mother started complaining that she can't watch her goddamn Chinese soap operas on YouTube through Apple TV's AirPlay. I swear it has to be the video itself, or some motherfucking interference from, like, the lawnmower the neighbor turns on the same time of day Mother wants to watch. But no; just this evening, My Fucking Father goes in on me, saying that he doesn't like that my modem doesn't work when the rental that would cost me $120 a year was working just fine. He even went to Best Buy, where the young punk-ass who's working on commission confirmed it's my fault. Yeah, I'll get right on returning my kick-ass awesome modem the day before I leave for Hong Kong so I can see Grandmother -- who, by the way, was all the authority figure you never were -- turned to ash.
My God, what an asshole, and what a dick move one day before I leave the country.
He's going to clean out my room, I just know it. Hell, he just might move out my stuff and tell me to find my own apartment, too.
My God, what an asshole, and what a dick move one day before I leave the country.
He's going to clean out my room, I just know it. Hell, he just might move out my stuff and tell me to find my own apartment, too.
Addendum To: It Came Together Quick
Kind of old news, since things came together the middle of last week. But yep, it's all set. And thankfully my parents, who heard about me going through my siblings who don't live with my parents (like I do), are OK with me going.
The last thing that had to come together was to tell the test scoring place about me attending Grandmother's funeral and what they thought about it. She sounded genuinely sympathetic about my plight. But probably because it is against policy, the point person removed me from the project I agreed to the afternoon of my last day of the previous test scoring project, which also was the afternoon just before I got news of the funeral plans. But then she said that they probably would fall well short of the projected drop-dead date. In fact, she estimated that the project would end Wednesday the 5th, a mere four working days after it began. So, it's no big whoop that I didn't get to work that project -- assuming, of course, that it did get done as early as she thought it would.
But then I got to thinking. If I did not tell her I had to go Grandmother's funeral until I started the project -- say on Friday or today/Monday, I kind of think I would have been able to stay on. In fact, if we got done early enough -- say today/Monday the 3rd instead of Wednesday the 5th (with the added incentive of finishing it up before Independence Day), I could have worked the project to its completion and then I would be gone tomorrow/Tuesday. It would have been perfect. Alas, I don't know for sure that would happen, and besides, I don't want to lie to her in case she caught wind of my lie. Besides, I've been kind of busy the three days I would have worked.
Kind of an aside: This was the same test scoring place that had the field test I finally chose to do. We did not get cut early. In fact, I was able to stay past Friday and into Monday because I was asked to jump over to another group that was woefully behind [my former group got done Friday, so they were done on time]. I only worked for 35 hours or so that week. I also think about the other test scoring place. Maybe they worked extra hours to get the project done, and then maybe those people did get transferred to another project. Who knows? But in retrospect, my fears were unfounded; unless I get other information, I think I made the right decision. Whew!
One other thing: During my call with this contact, the person who removed me from the project told me that there is yet another project that got dumped onto the company. And luckily, it starts next Monday, the first workday after I come back from the funeral. Yes, I will take it. Now, it is slated to go only three weeks, and I get the feeling that it's going to less like the field test I did, where the time we were told we had work was just about right, and more about this project I could not do, where a projected two weeks is probably getting reduced to four days. Nevertheless this represents the longest unbroken stretch of steady employment ever since ... oh, 2011, my first year test scoring, where this company's long field tests took me well into the summer. Can't complain, especially if I am asked to work.
The last thing that had to come together was to tell the test scoring place about me attending Grandmother's funeral and what they thought about it. She sounded genuinely sympathetic about my plight. But probably because it is against policy, the point person removed me from the project I agreed to the afternoon of my last day of the previous test scoring project, which also was the afternoon just before I got news of the funeral plans. But then she said that they probably would fall well short of the projected drop-dead date. In fact, she estimated that the project would end Wednesday the 5th, a mere four working days after it began. So, it's no big whoop that I didn't get to work that project -- assuming, of course, that it did get done as early as she thought it would.
But then I got to thinking. If I did not tell her I had to go Grandmother's funeral until I started the project -- say on Friday or today/Monday, I kind of think I would have been able to stay on. In fact, if we got done early enough -- say today/Monday the 3rd instead of Wednesday the 5th (with the added incentive of finishing it up before Independence Day), I could have worked the project to its completion and then I would be gone tomorrow/Tuesday. It would have been perfect. Alas, I don't know for sure that would happen, and besides, I don't want to lie to her in case she caught wind of my lie. Besides, I've been kind of busy the three days I would have worked.
Kind of an aside: This was the same test scoring place that had the field test I finally chose to do. We did not get cut early. In fact, I was able to stay past Friday and into Monday because I was asked to jump over to another group that was woefully behind [my former group got done Friday, so they were done on time]. I only worked for 35 hours or so that week. I also think about the other test scoring place. Maybe they worked extra hours to get the project done, and then maybe those people did get transferred to another project. Who knows? But in retrospect, my fears were unfounded; unless I get other information, I think I made the right decision. Whew!
One other thing: During my call with this contact, the person who removed me from the project told me that there is yet another project that got dumped onto the company. And luckily, it starts next Monday, the first workday after I come back from the funeral. Yes, I will take it. Now, it is slated to go only three weeks, and I get the feeling that it's going to less like the field test I did, where the time we were told we had work was just about right, and more about this project I could not do, where a projected two weeks is probably getting reduced to four days. Nevertheless this represents the longest unbroken stretch of steady employment ever since ... oh, 2011, my first year test scoring, where this company's long field tests took me well into the summer. Can't complain, especially if I am asked to work.
Sunday, July 2, 2017
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -2). Beat San Antone at the X by nine Sunday, then beat the Mercury in Phoenix by eight Friday. I'm getting the feeling that with Maya Moore at the peak of her career and Seimone Augustus, Lindsay Whalen and Rebekkah Brunson still trucking along (and by the way, those four recently [maybe this screening week?] set the record for most WNBA victories by a quartet), somehow the gameplan runs through Sylvia Fowles. I think that's dangerous, especially if the pivot runs hot and cold, and it seems to do.
Aside: Check out the Lynx homepage. There's nothing that stands out, although it's a tad boring. But look at the middle-right portion, the headlines underneath the word "News." There are three headlines from June 9, May 12 and May 11. There are other links of news that are much more current, but seriously, does anyone notice that old news is featured prominently on the Lynx splash page? Somebody should fix that. Unless there's no one employed to fix it, which, if true, brings back doubts about the viability of the league.
Anyway, this entire season boils down to the Lynx vs. L.A. And finally the only two teams worth talking about in the league will meet for the first time in the regular season, as the Sparks come to St. Paul Thursday. The Lynx then go to Chicago to play the Sky Saturday. Two games in three days, one home and one road, circling games and trap games ... I have a bad feeling about this. I think this squad loses one of those two games.
#-2: Wild (Re-Entry!). I don't think local sports fans have ever had a day like Friday, where both winter pro teams made huge trades on the same day. I like the Wild's better, much better, than the Timberwolves' (which I'll explain below -- way below).
General Manager Chuck Fletcher hasn't blown up the team, but apparently seeing stagnation and the need to sign the players he prioritizes as the core of this club to long-term contracts down the road (notably Nino Niederreiter and, secondly, Mikael Granlund), he made a sizable trade that involved one of the team's deep (though, in my opinion, not necessarily shut-down) defensive corps. Marco Scandella was sacrificed from the D crew, along with a third-round pick, to Buffalo in exchange for Forward Tyler Ennis, D-man Marcus Foligno, and a fourth-round pick.
It was interesting hearing the trade rumors and seeing the Wild's protected list for Vegas' Expansion Draft who Fletch put first ahead of the others when it came to Defensemen. Ryan Suter is a no-brainer -- not necessarily because he's fantastic (he's not, not anymore), but because he has a huge contract and I believe a no-trade clause. From there, Fletcher protected from Vegas Jared Spurgeon. Fletcher did throw in Alex Tuch to convince Golden Knights General Manager George McPhee to take Forward Erik Haula instead of Scandella, Jonas Brodin or Matt Dumba, but that was because he wanted more value when he finally had to bite the bullet and trade one of those three.
In a sense, Scandella's an afterthought. Really, the players in this transaction are an afterthought, too. Ennis can score, but he's injured too often. And Foligno is nothing more than an enforcer/thug, the type of toughness the Mild, which thought that speed kills, suddenly realized they needed as they were getting roughed up by St. Louis in the playoffs. Too little, too late in that regard. No, the big piece was the player I haven't forgotten but held back from talking about. The oft-maligned Forward Jason Pominville is going back to the Sabres four years after being traded on Deadline Day to the Wild. His lack of production didn't justify his onerous contract (not to mention the no-trade clause he enforced to stay on the protected list), and so he became the scapegoat for a lot of Wild fans. It got to the point where Fletcher told any team that wanted any of his Defencemen that they had to take Pominville too. So the main point of this trade was Pominville ... no, actually it was Pominville's contract, not Pominville himself.
This is an unusual trade. The HOTT TAKEZZZ!!!! say that Buffalo came out with the better deal. They probably did. But this was a long-term play for Fletcher. Getting rid of Pominville's contract, and dealing away a good player who was also due a payday in Scandella, frees up money to sign better and more important players over the next couple years. In that sense, I totally understand this trade.
Meanwhile, the free agency frenzy started up and more people from the organization decided to take their careers elsewhere. Good luck, Darcy Kuemper and Christian Folin. Meanwhile the Mild got a bunch of scrubs back, most notably Kyle Rau, the Lakeville North star who scored that goal in Triple Overtime to win the Boys' State High School Hockey Championship a few years ago. Means nothing unless a miracle hits and Rau or another free agent pick-up scores, like, 15 goals this upcoming season.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -4). OK, I know I said this before, but this week might be the week that's seen as the one that torpedoed the Twinks' chances of making the postseason. Against three pretty good teams in Cleveland, Boston and Kansas City, they went 3-5 this screening week. Not only have Cleveland zoomed past them this week (I think), as of press time they are only one game in front of the Royals for second. That's what happens when you're playing this afternoon to salvage a split of a four-game set at Kaufmann (although they did split a Doubleheader with K.C. Saturday, and the weird thing about that is the game they won featured a Pitcher making his debut in The Show, Felix Jorge, not the one where Jose Berrios took to the mound), let alone dropping three-of-four at Fenway (but at least they swept Cleveland with a 4-0 shutout Sunday).
All-Star starters are announced tonight (Sunday night), and Miguel Sano is expected to win Third Base for the American League. If he doesn't, blame the Russians.
They come home after today's tilt versus the Royals. Three vs. Anaheim, then four against Baltimore to close out the first half of the year.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -3). I didn't think the Loons could go into Yankee Stadium and beat NYCFC. They have too much name recognition (David Villa and Andrea Pirlo would probably be better than 70% of the players in the league if they were 50), too much power. But I've got to be honest: When Christian Ramirez got that rebound Goal to give United an early 1-0 lead, I thought they had the talent to win their first game on the road, or at least get a draw. But nope. Those guys slowly chipped away, then tied, then grabbed the lead, then tallied an insurance Goal. I don't want to be upset because this is still an expansion team. And yet I can't help but feel disappointed that they're not playing better, even against one of the best teams in Major League Soccer.
I was going to attend Tuesday evening's Independence Day tilt against Columbus at Das Bank, but Grandmother, obviously.
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -1). Wow. A week after pulling off a trade that many people believe is a milestone for the organization, they basically fuck themselves with a switch that I don't fucking understand at all.
First of all, how stupid am I to have believed that Tom Thibodeau had to stand pat with keeping Ricky Rubio as his starting Point Guard after trading away putative heir apparent Kris Dunn to Chicago in order to land Jimmy Butler. I did not realize that with Butler coming to Minnesota there was a glut of substandard outside shooting, so even though Ricky Ricky improved in the second half of the year in that regard, he was considered expendable.
But that's where the trouble starts. Thibs shipped off Rubio -- who, by the way, has pretty much been nothing but a dutiful soldier (and yes, I will admit I had my doubts about him initially) who had weaknesses but had strengths few in the NBA can match, and put up with a lot of rumor-mongering I know came from the front office -- to The Bastard New Orleans Jazz for their first-round pick next year. Oh, it's lottery-protected, too? Oh, so for a stand-up guy who can play some defense and has preternatural passing skills we might get the 16th pick in the 2018 NBA Draft? OK, cool.
So who are you going to replace him with? Kyle Lowry I heard might leave Toronto. I can see an upgrade from Rubio to Lowry. But no, Thibodeau did not get Lowry. Instead he signed ... Jeff Teague. I remember drafting Teague in my fantasy basketball league and thinking I got a steal. I haven't fucking played fantasy basketball in at least five years. This is the upgrade? This is our new starting Point Guard for a team that's supposed to be riding high into the playoffs next year?
I am truly upset over these two moves, and I know I'm not the only one. This is not an improvement at all. This is a downgrade, a severe one, even a fatal one. I don't care if you have Andrew Wiggins on the wing, Butler playing Small Forward and Karl-Anthony Towns at the 5. The Woofie Dogs are going to lose games because of the Achilles' heel at the 1. Teague is going to get pressured and he's going to commit Turnovers. Even worse, he won't be able to make the passes Rubio routinely made. There'll be instances where Wiggy or Jimmy Buckets will get under the basket completely unguarded, but Teague won't see him, or he'll be double-teamed and he'll just fucking cough up the ball.
I am saying this now: The Timberwolves will not make the playoffs next year because of Point Guard. And Tom Thibodeau will have to answer to us fans as to why he decided to give up Ricky Rubio for Jeff Teague.
Aside: Check out the Lynx homepage. There's nothing that stands out, although it's a tad boring. But look at the middle-right portion, the headlines underneath the word "News." There are three headlines from June 9, May 12 and May 11. There are other links of news that are much more current, but seriously, does anyone notice that old news is featured prominently on the Lynx splash page? Somebody should fix that. Unless there's no one employed to fix it, which, if true, brings back doubts about the viability of the league.
Anyway, this entire season boils down to the Lynx vs. L.A. And finally the only two teams worth talking about in the league will meet for the first time in the regular season, as the Sparks come to St. Paul Thursday. The Lynx then go to Chicago to play the Sky Saturday. Two games in three days, one home and one road, circling games and trap games ... I have a bad feeling about this. I think this squad loses one of those two games.
#-2: Wild (Re-Entry!). I don't think local sports fans have ever had a day like Friday, where both winter pro teams made huge trades on the same day. I like the Wild's better, much better, than the Timberwolves' (which I'll explain below -- way below).
General Manager Chuck Fletcher hasn't blown up the team, but apparently seeing stagnation and the need to sign the players he prioritizes as the core of this club to long-term contracts down the road (notably Nino Niederreiter and, secondly, Mikael Granlund), he made a sizable trade that involved one of the team's deep (though, in my opinion, not necessarily shut-down) defensive corps. Marco Scandella was sacrificed from the D crew, along with a third-round pick, to Buffalo in exchange for Forward Tyler Ennis, D-man Marcus Foligno, and a fourth-round pick.
It was interesting hearing the trade rumors and seeing the Wild's protected list for Vegas' Expansion Draft who Fletch put first ahead of the others when it came to Defensemen. Ryan Suter is a no-brainer -- not necessarily because he's fantastic (he's not, not anymore), but because he has a huge contract and I believe a no-trade clause. From there, Fletcher protected from Vegas Jared Spurgeon. Fletcher did throw in Alex Tuch to convince Golden Knights General Manager George McPhee to take Forward Erik Haula instead of Scandella, Jonas Brodin or Matt Dumba, but that was because he wanted more value when he finally had to bite the bullet and trade one of those three.
In a sense, Scandella's an afterthought. Really, the players in this transaction are an afterthought, too. Ennis can score, but he's injured too often. And Foligno is nothing more than an enforcer/thug, the type of toughness the Mild, which thought that speed kills, suddenly realized they needed as they were getting roughed up by St. Louis in the playoffs. Too little, too late in that regard. No, the big piece was the player I haven't forgotten but held back from talking about. The oft-maligned Forward Jason Pominville is going back to the Sabres four years after being traded on Deadline Day to the Wild. His lack of production didn't justify his onerous contract (not to mention the no-trade clause he enforced to stay on the protected list), and so he became the scapegoat for a lot of Wild fans. It got to the point where Fletcher told any team that wanted any of his Defencemen that they had to take Pominville too. So the main point of this trade was Pominville ... no, actually it was Pominville's contract, not Pominville himself.
This is an unusual trade. The HOTT TAKEZZZ!!!! say that Buffalo came out with the better deal. They probably did. But this was a long-term play for Fletcher. Getting rid of Pominville's contract, and dealing away a good player who was also due a payday in Scandella, frees up money to sign better and more important players over the next couple years. In that sense, I totally understand this trade.
Meanwhile, the free agency frenzy started up and more people from the organization decided to take their careers elsewhere. Good luck, Darcy Kuemper and Christian Folin. Meanwhile the Mild got a bunch of scrubs back, most notably Kyle Rau, the Lakeville North star who scored that goal in Triple Overtime to win the Boys' State High School Hockey Championship a few years ago. Means nothing unless a miracle hits and Rau or another free agent pick-up scores, like, 15 goals this upcoming season.
#-3: Twins (Last Week: -4). OK, I know I said this before, but this week might be the week that's seen as the one that torpedoed the Twinks' chances of making the postseason. Against three pretty good teams in Cleveland, Boston and Kansas City, they went 3-5 this screening week. Not only have Cleveland zoomed past them this week (I think), as of press time they are only one game in front of the Royals for second. That's what happens when you're playing this afternoon to salvage a split of a four-game set at Kaufmann (although they did split a Doubleheader with K.C. Saturday, and the weird thing about that is the game they won featured a Pitcher making his debut in The Show, Felix Jorge, not the one where Jose Berrios took to the mound), let alone dropping three-of-four at Fenway (but at least they swept Cleveland with a 4-0 shutout Sunday).
All-Star starters are announced tonight (Sunday night), and Miguel Sano is expected to win Third Base for the American League. If he doesn't, blame the Russians.
They come home after today's tilt versus the Royals. Three vs. Anaheim, then four against Baltimore to close out the first half of the year.
#-4: United FC (Last Week: -3). I didn't think the Loons could go into Yankee Stadium and beat NYCFC. They have too much name recognition (David Villa and Andrea Pirlo would probably be better than 70% of the players in the league if they were 50), too much power. But I've got to be honest: When Christian Ramirez got that rebound Goal to give United an early 1-0 lead, I thought they had the talent to win their first game on the road, or at least get a draw. But nope. Those guys slowly chipped away, then tied, then grabbed the lead, then tallied an insurance Goal. I don't want to be upset because this is still an expansion team. And yet I can't help but feel disappointed that they're not playing better, even against one of the best teams in Major League Soccer.
I was going to attend Tuesday evening's Independence Day tilt against Columbus at Das Bank, but Grandmother, obviously.
#-5: Timberwolves (Last Week: -1). Wow. A week after pulling off a trade that many people believe is a milestone for the organization, they basically fuck themselves with a switch that I don't fucking understand at all.
First of all, how stupid am I to have believed that Tom Thibodeau had to stand pat with keeping Ricky Rubio as his starting Point Guard after trading away putative heir apparent Kris Dunn to Chicago in order to land Jimmy Butler. I did not realize that with Butler coming to Minnesota there was a glut of substandard outside shooting, so even though Ricky Ricky improved in the second half of the year in that regard, he was considered expendable.
But that's where the trouble starts. Thibs shipped off Rubio -- who, by the way, has pretty much been nothing but a dutiful soldier (and yes, I will admit I had my doubts about him initially) who had weaknesses but had strengths few in the NBA can match, and put up with a lot of rumor-mongering I know came from the front office -- to The Bastard New Orleans Jazz for their first-round pick next year. Oh, it's lottery-protected, too? Oh, so for a stand-up guy who can play some defense and has preternatural passing skills we might get the 16th pick in the 2018 NBA Draft? OK, cool.
So who are you going to replace him with? Kyle Lowry I heard might leave Toronto. I can see an upgrade from Rubio to Lowry. But no, Thibodeau did not get Lowry. Instead he signed ... Jeff Teague. I remember drafting Teague in my fantasy basketball league and thinking I got a steal. I haven't fucking played fantasy basketball in at least five years. This is the upgrade? This is our new starting Point Guard for a team that's supposed to be riding high into the playoffs next year?
I am truly upset over these two moves, and I know I'm not the only one. This is not an improvement at all. This is a downgrade, a severe one, even a fatal one. I don't care if you have Andrew Wiggins on the wing, Butler playing Small Forward and Karl-Anthony Towns at the 5. The Woofie Dogs are going to lose games because of the Achilles' heel at the 1. Teague is going to get pressured and he's going to commit Turnovers. Even worse, he won't be able to make the passes Rubio routinely made. There'll be instances where Wiggy or Jimmy Buckets will get under the basket completely unguarded, but Teague won't see him, or he'll be double-teamed and he'll just fucking cough up the ball.
I am saying this now: The Timberwolves will not make the playoffs next year because of Point Guard. And Tom Thibodeau will have to answer to us fans as to why he decided to give up Ricky Rubio for Jeff Teague.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)