Addendum To: Bad Movie Timing

So I got finished with training so quickly that I got released from work.  (Thought I was slow, actually.)  I'm actually not mad.  In fact, it's great for me!  That means I can get to the movie theater early enough to catch an early screening, and then scoot downtown early enough to get a Happy Hour beer at one of the places we'll need to watch football games.  And that movie doesn't have to be the latest Mission: Impossible, which came out to theaters on Friday where there are other films, like The Incredibles 2 and the latest Jurassic World, which are on their way out.

I got to the theatre at 2:01, and I thought that it was early enough for me to have my choice of flick.  But no.  Like I complained about in my last blog post, movie screenings usually come in waves, and even 2 o'clock was not early enough for me to avoid falling into this hole where I had no pick of flicks because every screen was in the middle of a movie by then.  Well, there was one that started at 2.  In fact, it was M: I.  But it was a 3-D screening of M: I, and I don't want to pay an extra $3.50 to get a headache.  So I got gasoline and I'm at the library blogging this, and hopefully I'll have enough time to get back to the theater at 3:20 -- which was the time of the standard M: I I had planned on watching in the first place but hoped I could have waited to see until another time.

I should go now.

Bad Movie Timing

OK, so I got out of the first day of my training early yesterday.  (It went well, by the way.)  Had enough time where I thought I could squeeze a movie in.  My parents are leaving soon, which will free up my Tuesdays, but there's such a glut of movies I want to see that I thought that I could get in a movie yesterday and then one today before I head off to the Tottenham Hotspur-AC Milan exhibition match at Ooooos-Baaaaahnk Stadium.  If I don't, I'm afraid that a film I want to see will be out of theaters.

I make it up from my new place of work to the theater in about 15 minutes, about a quarter to 3.  But that is some bad timing, because none of the movies that I want to watch was about to hit a new screening.  The closest one is the latest Mission: Impossible, and even then I would have had to wait a half-hour before it began.  That was going to be the flick that I would squeeze in today, after leaving work but before the soccer game, but I thought that as long as I was there, maybe I should just pay the higher ticket price and watch it yesterday instead.  That way I could be assured that I could do something I need to do: Visit the alumni chapter's Plan B bar because we need to go see a game there next month.  Eventually, though, I didn't think the difference in price justified paying more for seeing Monday as opposed to Tuesday.  Besides, I have a month, I can grease the wheels with that bar some other time.

There was a movie that was beginning just as I got there: The documentary Three Identical Strangers.  But I already know what happens and the big twist in the story of triplets who didn't know the others existed, and frankly, it was very sad to me, so I don't want to see it.  So I left, had McDonald's, and sorted through my receipts at the library.

Not wasted hours.  But even though I knew it was possible, it kind of seems to be a pain-in-the-ass that unless it's a huge movie that has just come out -- like the latest Mission: Impossible -- there are no movies that are rolling through all hours of the day.  Screenings don't seem to be fully staggered; rather, they all have a window of 90 minutes, maybe a couple hours, where they all begin, and then there's 90-120 minutes before the next window of screenings start.  This is not the first time I've gone to a theater and lamented that I was too late for one wave of screenings and way too early for the next, and therefore just left.  And I guess that since the theater starts at a certain time of day, the first movies at all the screens have to screen at around the same time each morning, and that kind of dictates the regularity of screenings throughout the day and thus the holes inbetween them.  I just happened to arrive in one of those holes, and I didn't want to wait.

Well, I'll squeeze in the flick today, assuming I get out of work when I'm supposed to.  And then I hopefully will have time to at least find parking and get to the soccer match.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

OK, I have to do this quickly because I start my new job this morning and I thought I was going to do this last night but I fell asleep way before midnight so I apologize for rushing this but it doesn't really matter because both teams absolutely suck:

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  They had a little thing going early in the screening week, sweeping Toronto in the T.O. (and by convincing margins) and surviving Fernando Rodney's bases-loaded crap in the bottom of the Ninth Inning and winning in Boston 2-1 Thursday to go on a four-game winning streak.  But they are now on a three-game losing streak.  Friday's was the worst: They went ahead in the Ninth against Craig Kimbrel (only the second Save chance he's blown this year), only to lose that lead under Rodney (my God, we've been ride-or-die with this guy all year; I have no idea how the fanbase hasn't had a heart attack by now) before losing the game under Matt Belisle in the Tenth.  Lance Lynn coughed up an early 4-1 lead Saturday, and Jose Berrios was dancing around a bunch of stranded Red Sox, but the Twinks' bats were left empty and they were shut out yesterday, 3-0.

The Trade Deadline is Tuesday.  Eduardo Escobar and Ryan Pressly was traded Friday to Arizona and Houston, respectively.  This weekend wipeout should induce Falvey and Levine to trade even more -- Brian Dozier?  Placido Polanco?  Lynn?  Zach Duke?  Rodney?  Might as well fucking trade them all.

Cleveland is by far the worst of the six division leaders, and ironically has the best chance of winning their division than any of the others.  The AL Central is that shitty.  But they play Minnesota for three starting tonight.  Oh look, there's a day off!  And then they play Kansas City, a butt club the Twinks got swept at, for three.  At least both series are at home.

#-2: United FC (Last Week: Positive Numbers).  I really thought their good recent form would lead to a win in Vancouver Saturday.  Nope -- these guys still are Jekyll and Hyde on the road.  This Alphonso Davies character is good.  He was signed by, all of teams, Bayern Munich late last week, but unfortunately he was loaned back to the Whitecaps for the rest of the season.  I and the Loons wish he was over in Germany now, because he roasted our Loonies for two Goals in a 4-2 victory.

I didn't see the game, thank Buddha.  But Head Coach Adrian Heath seemed pissed after the game.  All I could tell (at least on Twitter) is that there were a couple of mind-numbing dumb-ass plays by the two starting Holding Midfielders, Ibson and Rasmus Schuller.  The former back-heeled to nobody on a rare counterattack; the latter sent a weak pass to a Whitecap which started a counterattack which led to, I believe, the second Davies Goal.  (This was off a Corner Kick where they inexplicably went short and, as far as I can tell, made a fucking hash out of the whole thing.)

When asked by Jamie Watson whether this loss will lead to bringing in more people before the Transfer Window closes, Heath said, "I hope so."  Was he just acting out of anger?  If not, are those two Holding Mids -- who had played well up to this point, by the way -- the players he wants replaced?

Saturday is the last home game this squad will have in a while.  It's against Seattle, therefore it should be winnable.  I promised the local Liverpool fan club I would join their pre-match tailgate some time this season; this has to be the time.

Two World Cup-Related Things

It's been two weeks since the final, so I should do this now.

1) Remember the law firm gig, the one where I and three others were unceremoniously dumped from working?  Our first day was the first match of the World Cup, and our last day was the day of the first Semifinal.  In other words, Russia 2018 coincided, mostly, with what may be the last temp job I ever have.

2) If I had to pick one place to watch soccer, frankly, I'll go to the Nomad.  No offense to Brit's, maybe the most (and I mean this as a compliment) regal soccer pub in the Twin Cities, and oh-so, well, British.  And no offense either to The Nomad, the most, uh, Irish (I think?) pub in town.  There is one guy there who controls the sports that are shown on the TVs, and for his expertise and passion for soccer alone I think anybody in the city can rely on him.

But if there is any proletariat soccer pub in MSP, it would be the Nomad.  It's right in the middle of Cedar-Riverside, the place where most Somali refugees migrated to when leaving war-torn Somalia, so in many ways the Nomad is in an island.  And yet the grittiness that's conjured up in my head makes it the perfect place to take in a match.  There are other elements that make me think this is the right place for me to watch.  There's one huge room, although there is a patio and bocce ball lawns outside.  They don't serve food besides Heggie's pizzas, although the Nomad had a food truck for most games of the World Cup.  There are four TVs inside, the biggest of which is a projection screen that sits at the end of a stage that is used for music acts that play some evenings.  And while the bartenders don't seem to be total soccer geeks, the vibe of the customers who do come over to watch makes this my kind of soccer pub.

But I'll be honest.  A few times this World Cup I saw this new bartender, one I hadn't seen before the tournament.  And she's fucking hot.  Slim, long black hair, and she would always, always wear tops that are too short and jeans that are too low, showing off her fucking hot torso and her fucking hot tattoos.  Holy fuck, I got hard whenever I saw her tend bar.  So yeah, I like the Nomad for her, too.

Now I Cannot Spend Anymore Money, FR FR

So yesterday *****e* texts me.  No, actually it was a bootycall: "Whatcha doin'?"  "What time are you free tonight?"  I knew instantly what that meant.  She has the house all to herself and she's broke and she is asking if I can cum over and fuck her brains out.  Score!

Well, wait ... I lost my last job 2 1/2 weeks ago, and even though my new job starts Monday, knowing my luck I will have missed the cutoff and need to wait three more weeks in order to get paid.  Last time I checked my bank accounts I was hovering just above two grand.  And I just got a handjob from ******e Wednesday.  There's no need for me to bust my nut a second time in three days.  But ... but ... but ... she's alone and she's waiting for you!

OK, I'll do it!  I'll come over (after a hell of a lot of wrangling about what time can you be here and my hate for being blindsided with plans the day of) and schtup her.  I've lusted to do her alone in her house for a long time, and finally this is my chance, and I won't pass it up!

So I rush out after dinner at home, get to the ATM, make sure my porno pants are unbuttoned (although I put on underwear; I had an art show to get to after that) and drove over to *****e*'s house, hoping to get my libido raring so I could get hard.  And then I drive up to see ... a bunch of guys and at least one stripper.

Oh, I'm not going to be alone.  This is a party.  A fucking party.

I kind of lay into *****e* for that.  I thought she was being misleading.  No, no, no ... she was being misleading.  I guess I could have asked, "Are you having a party?" but she should have said, "I'm having a party, wanna come?"  But she didn't, and that made me think she had the house all to herself before her kid had to come home.  For that reason I was pissed off.  I really just wanted to read her the Riot Act and leave.  But ... I wanted that pussy.  Plus, I didn't want to do anything to her that she could hold against me at a point where I did have money and really, really wanted to fuck her.

Being blindsided like this is usually a sign to me that I shouldn't go through with it.  But as long as I was there, and as long as she held to the $100 I agreed to, well, I went through with it.  I fucked *****e*.  Actually, I kind of hate-fucked the shit out of her.  But I think I gave it to her enough where she had an orgasm, or at least she made enough moaning sounds to act like she came.  And she replied to my thank-you text, even though I got that text this morning.  I think I got my money's worth, but I could just be trying to convince myself that I did.

(By the way, I noticed with *a*** last week and *****e* yesterday that for maximum, uh, fucking position while they were lying down on the bed, they splayed their legs up wide.  Is that the position in order to stick in a penis for ideal comfort and pleasure?  I tried to swing my arms behind *****e*'s knees in order to keep her legs up while I was crushing her, but dammit, that was difficult!)

---

OK, so I know I am in a world of hurt financially.  I am back to avoiding looking at my checking account whenever possible.  (I haven't done that much while I've been unemployed, but after blowing $100 under deceptive circumstances, I'm downright ashamed to look now.)  And it could be until -- gulp -- August 17 before I get paid again.  Well, I get paid from my U. experiments, but since I'm starting work again, I can't do those anymore.

I got paid last on the 17th, I think.  It could be upwards of a month where no significant money comes in.  I really, really cannot afford to spend any more money, so I hope to Buddha I have the strength to lock myself down and commit to keeping my wallet closed.  Going back to work helps; I can only, you know, work, and not spend money.  And if I do have to spend money, I've got a gift card from one U. experiment, another (hopefully) coming from a taste test early next month, and, if necessary, I'll charge expenses to my credit card.  That's what credit cards are for, right?

But golly, I just need to show some self-control.  Three more weeks, three more weeks. ...

This is my last day before starting my first full-time ever job.  These past couple weeks of not working I have still been waking up early to keep up this work façade for my parents and, admittedly, they say that keeping a regular schedule is good for your body.

Nevertheless I have slipped on my wake-up time.  I still have kept my alarm clock set at 7, but with each passing day I have left the house at a later and later time.

One thing has been consistent, however: Although I listen to The Stephanie Miller Show on the radio each morning, by the time I get to a coffeeshop, order, set up my things, get on the Internet and click on AM 950 KTNF to listen online, the show already started.  I sometimes start in the middle of the very first segment of the show every morning.  Sometimes I start in on the first commercial break.  And sometimes I am so late the show begins while I'm in the car, I listen to a bit, then go inside. And whenever I pop into the middle of Stephanie Miller interrupting her own thought, I always regret not waking up earlier in order to get to the coffeeshop earlier so I can listen to her show from the top, entirely, and all the way through.

Of course I haven't done anything about it.  But it's a thought I thought I should note since this is, for all intents and purposes, My Last Free Day Ever.

Swear I didn't imagine this.  I was driving west on Larpenteur Ave. around the party of town where it turns into East Hennepin.  I was trying to beat a green light whose Don't Walk Sign was blinking down from 6 ... 5 ... 4 and then, I swear, it went to 0 and the light correspondingly went to yellow and then red.  Had to slam on my brakes so I didn't enter the intersection.

I have had this occasional thought all my life (again you have to trust me on this) where I would be walking across a busy street with the Walk sign on, and then the Don't Walk sign would blink just once before it would stay on and there would be a green light going the crossways, and since I would be in the middle of the street, I'd get run over.  This is not exactly the same thing, but this is close.  Seriously, how in the hell does a light cut short its Don't Walk countdown?  That's dangerous, and I think that's illegal.  Is someone doing something about this?  Does the city know?

Very Sleepy, And Not Very Horny

I'm guessing it's the heat, although it could be my health, but for the past couple weeks I've been dejectedly tired.  I blogged in the past about the ease with which I've been napping, but it's kind of reached its nadir when I come home and fall asleep (and apart) after dinner.  I've felt exhausted when I come home, and it's not as if I've done anything strenuous during my day.  Hell, like I said, I've been able to nap during the day and I'm still tired at night.

I say this after I did it last night.  After struggling to stay awake for The Middle (and I'm glad that ABC is still re-running the show even though it's officially ended), I finally listened to my body and laid in bed starting at around 8.  I was rousted awake first by hearing what I thought was the air conditioning turn on and then, in a first, seeing Father open my bedroom door and the crack from the hallway light burst into a beatific glow.  I don't know what prompted him not to knock, but he wanted to make sure the window in my bedroom was closed.  I opened it because it was stuffy in my bedroom but also because, frankly, the dew point is low enough that I don't think we need the AC on.  I, sans shirt, got up to close the window and I've been up since, which was approximately 10:30.  Meanwhile, My Father continues to complain that all I do is sleep after I get home from "work."  Well, I'm not coming home to eat tomorrow because I'll be going to a stripper party working out, so hopefully him invading my privacy won't be something he'll bring up passive-aggressively later.

That being said, maybe the cooler temperatures is just what I need to stay awake.

---

About that stripper party: Even though I can't afford it, I'm going to the first house party I've been to in ... oh, I want to say two months, though that's a total guess.  I've surprised myself in being, for lack of a better word, diligent in not going to these parties as the money has slowed to a trickle.  I didn't think I had the capacity to do that; I thought my penis was going to overrule my brain and my wallet and sink me into destitution.  But I looked at my checking account and decided I just could not spend that much money.  Well, I did in fucking *a*** last week.  But that was the first time I've schtupped her, or anyone, in at least two months as well.

I was helped into saving money as well.  The parties I was invited to either was occurring while I was at work or was so far away that I simply didn't want to drive.  But this one tonight is very close, plus there are many girls there to who I have declined invitations to parties recently, and I think it's time to go to one of these things.  I may not have the money, but I do have the time.

What I might not have, however, is the energy or, uh, the "life essence."  I masturbated a lot since fucking *a*** on Thursday, but I usually try to save myself a few days before going to a party to make sure I have a vigorous orgasm.  But I totally forgot about the party when I jerked off last night to Vintage Erotica Forum, which makes me scared that I'll be all pudded out for the party.  Hey, maybe seeing all these faces for the first time in a long time will reinvigorate me.  But maybe it won't.  I sure hope I do.  Otherwise, going there is a waste of money I don't necessarily have.

So ... Am I Her Boyfriend Now?

OK, so I fucked *a*** on Thursday.  It went great.  She said she came five times -- I don't know if that's possibly, but who am I to doubt her?  She let me rawdog her, to which I stuck myself in for, like, a minute and thrusted myself half a dozen times before I had to pull out in case I squirted.  I then kneeled around her shoulders and thrust my thingy in her face to which she sucked it (her BJ skills need work, because she's not enthused over doing those), and I finally splooged all over her chin and neck.  Loved that she smiled at me after I got all done. I actually think *a*** loves to fuck me.

She also cooked steak for me, again.  I stayed there a total of 4 1/2 hours, and the first 2 1/2 consisted of me watching TV as *a*** cooked this huge meal of steak and bread and vegetables for me.  Not complaining; she cooks well, and I had her touch my pee-pee for a quick second, too, just to get me warmed up.  But the steak was so freakin' big that the thing I really wanted to after lunch wasn't to screw but to sleep.  I did that after plunging into her, but I have to plan from now on having a real empty stomach when I see her, I guess.

Oh, it gets a tad stranger from then on, too.  I got under *a***'s cover and napped while she got up and showered my semen off her face and chest.  I slept for a good 40 minutes before rousting myself up and looking through the TV.  Then, I hear the bathroom door open (her bedroom is connected to the bathroom, which is in turn connected to the living room).  When she comes in, she's clothed and she's holding up her phone.

She wants to take a picture of me.  Uh, OK.  I think we both want to be discreet about this, but honestly, I take this as a sign that *a*** likes me, and I like that.  Besides, I was still under her blanket; I was totally naked, but only my head, my arms and the top of my chest was sticking out.  No biggie that she wanted to preserve the memory of, uh, what we did.

But the picture-taking didn't stop there.  I had to leave, but there was still hard-boiled eggs Father packed into my lunch for me, and I needed to eat them before I left.  I got dressed and started eating those eggs on the dining room table where I ate *a***'s steak.  And she wanted to take a picture of me eating the eggs, too.  Uh, OK.

And then I had to go.  She escorted me out the door, looked at my Fit, then asked to take a picture of me in front of my car.  Hey, I like my car, but I don't remember snapping a photo of myself in front of it.  Maybe I'm slow on the uptake, but this was where I was starting to get a tad scared of what *a*** was doing.

So I guess I shouldn't have been so careless as to not leave my hat in her bedroom.  I realized this just as I was pulling away, so I had to come back and call her.  So she was nice enough to, instead of me coming in and grabbing my cap from her bedroom, fetch the hat and give it to me so I don't have to walk in.

But that wasn't all.  As I was climbing back into my car, she runs back out, phone thrust in front of her.  *a*** shows it to me.  She is Facetiming her sister, who seemed to be shopping at, like, an IKEA in Marrakesh.  She's hot -- maybe not has hot as *a***, but I haven't fucked her sister, so what do I know?  Anyway, *a*** wants me to talk to her -- in French.  Now I have spoken a couple phrases with *a*** in French because she's Moroccan and that was a former French colony, but I can't speak French.  I was just trying to be ingratiating, and now *a*** wants me to speak with her sister?  I think I said "I want" and, maybe, "poutine" in French, and that's it.

After flailing in communicating, *a*** let me go; I waved goodbye to the sister, and then *a*** waved goodbye to me as she went back inside -- without a hug, which I think is weird.  But this has totally thrown me for a loop.  Why all the pictures, and why this streaming to her sister in Marrakesh?  And why now?  I've fucked her several times now, but she never demonstrated a need to, uh, document this.

I have one theory.  She needed to show her sister that she has a boyfriend because she's getting pressure to settle down and marry.  If that's the case -- uh, hoo-boy, this is why I haven't texted *a*** back.  I know I'm trying to have my cake and eat it too, but I just assumed that an "I love you" text would be good enough after our tryst.  Does she want more?  Because I'm not into that commitment.  Hell, this is why I do this shit!  Golly, does she think I'm her -- gulp -- boyfriend now?

(The only other working theory that might be not implausible is that she has told her sis about getting fucked by me for money.  Maybe she likes that.  That brings up dreams of a threesome, and maybe even a trip to Morocco, which I might like more than fucking two sisters.  But I'm dreaming.)

Look, I start work next week, so I won't be able to see her all that much. But is this a case where if I fuck her three times I'ma wife her? Because we've already fucked three times, which means, uh. ...

Should Start Thinking About My New Job/Life

It's less than a week before I start training for my full-time job.  It still doesn't seem real.  As far as I know, my day-to-day duties largely consist of tasks I have done in my 20-year life as a temp.  In that sense, it won't be much of a departure from what I've been doing.  But then again, this relationship isn't transactional; it's more than that, much more.  They're giving me benefits.  I am getting Paid Time Off (and I have to get up to speed on how that works).  There is a commitment beyond be going there and leaving at the end of the day.  For that I have to give ... something.  Maybe it's more of a focus on what this "relationship" means, moreso than I'm doing now.

At any rate, I'm getting used to this two-week furlough, which means readjusting back into work (even if it's just training) is going to be rough.  I won't have to hide not working from my folks, but actually working, even though this is the start of my ... career?  (Wow, can't believe I just said that.)  I should get my attention straight, shouldn't I?

Still Seems Hot To Me

I know that temps lately have been in the low-to-mid eighties, and dew points in the low sixties, and right now it's cloudy.  It was a lot hotter and moist in past days.  But it still seems hot to me.  I don't know if it's because it was so hot and humid that I just feel that any day's weather that's close to it feels the same, or if it's climate change or something else, but it still seems hot to me.  Man, I can't wait for fall to arrive.  Heck, I'll take winter right now, too.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: United FC (Last Week: -2).  Holy shit, I never would believe this would happen.

This week has capped off a series of glorious firsts for the Loons, so I don't know where to start.  Well, I'll start with this first milestone: They went 2-0 in a screening week for the first time on the survey.  After getting upbraided by Head Coach Adrian Heath for almost giving away the game against Real Salt Lake on the 14th, the squad gutted out a 2-1 victory Wednesday over New England.

But the big result, the near miracle, happened last/Sunday night.  LAFC (I prefer to refer to them as Laugh-See -- see what I did there?) came into town second in the Western Conference.  In a league where there are enough loopholes to put a lie into the salary cap which is supposed to be a bedrock of the single-entity system, LAFC is not an expansion team.  In fact, they are one of the best teams money can buy.  I hate moral victories, but given the Loons' recent spate of good play -- discounting that humiliating 2-1 friendly loss to Deportivo Saprissa, they have yet to lose at home in July -- I was OK if they had lost only by a score of 1-0.  A draw was unheard-of to me.  A win against those guys?  Huh, you're smokin' some good shit, aren't ya?

But goddamn, what the hell was that?  Not only did MNUFC take it to 'em, they won.  And not only did United win, but they beat the hell out of Laugh-See.  5-1?!?!?!  No, I did not see that coming.  It was very nice to see players who usually do not figure into the scoresheet contribute to the five Goals.  Rasmus Schuller scored the first Goal for United, and Erin Miller assisted on one.  The turning point of the match occurred just before Halftime, when Christian Ramirez and Darwin Quintero broke a 1-1 deadlock with Goals a minute apart, Quintero's coming just before the whistle.  I was afraid that LAFC was going to mount a comeback in the Second Half, but the defense buckled down.  And when Miguel Ibarra and Ramirez scored (for the second time) two minutes apart, the opposing team just shut 'er down and checked out of the match.  Lucky for the home team!

There were many superlatives achieved during the match.  The five Goals are the most this side has racked up in their short tenure in Major League Soccer.  They have won three matches in a row for the first time in their time in MLS.  They have extended their overall home winning streak to four.  And, anecdotally, even though Matthew Doyle of MLS.com gives the nod to their 3-2 road win versus Atlanta, I believe that this is the biggest win MNUFC has had in their brief stint in MLS.

It could not have come at a better time.  There have been bigger crowds, but -- and this is just a feeling -- there were a lot of newcomers in the 22,739 who came out to TCF Bank Stadium to watch this match.  I can tell you that a group of over a dozen family members (some of them total babes, by the way) were sitting near me.  One of them confessed that this was her first-ever Loons game she watched in person.  They were able to watch a win, which is a good thing.  But moreover, these guys beat a team that on paper has a decisive advantage in talent.  On top of that they routed them, totally kicked their asses.  And it is in that environment where, for the first time maybe since they crushed D.C. United at home 4-0 last year, the crowd could relax and really belt out the chants that soccer matches are known for.  People all over the stadium (at least in my section of TCF Bank) were belting out "M!  N!  U-F-C!" and the "Black And Blue" chant at points during the game.  And I don't remember seeing so many people raise their scarves and sing the chorus to "Wonderwall" so loudly before.  This is a landmark victory on the pitch, a high that proves how much this franchise, even as an underdog, can achieve if they deploy the right pieces and tactics.  Therefore, this is a milestone for the organization off it.  Every one who was at last night's game, I can assure you, will want to come to another one, either this season or in one of the seasons at Allianz Field.  I think last night's win was that pivotal for Minnesota United FC -- the business as well as the team.

Oh, and by the way, as of press time the Loons now sit seventh in the West, only two Points behind Salt Lake City for the final playoff spot.  But now they turn to a road-heavy portion of their schedule.  It was imperative for this team to defend home turf if they want any chance of sniffing the postseason.  But they've got to claim some points on the road, too, and they have a chance to do just that Saturday when they visit the Vancouver Whitecaps, a side that sits just two Points behind them.

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  They return from the All-Star Break (Jose Berrios pitched a scoreless Fifth Inning in the All-Star Game -- good) by promptly getting swept at the second-worst team in all of Major League Baseball, the Kansas City Royals.

This is how shitty it got.  It was 2-all in yesterday's (Sunday's) game in the bottom of the seventh.  Two gone but two on for Catcher, and former Twin, Drew Butera.  He's batting well below the Mendoza Line -- .168 as it stands after the game.  No wonder he's batting ninth.  Trevor Hildenberger gave Butera a 2-2 pitch down and in, and Butera was able to lift it to Right-Center Field.  CF Jake Cave, a guy I'd praised for his jolt of energy in the past, tried to dive for it and end the inning, but he missed and the goddamn ball rolled all the way to the wall.  Butera -- remember, he's hitting less than .200 ... oh, and he's slow as fuck, too -- was able to chug all the way around for an Inside-The-Park Home Run, and K.C. took the sweep, 5-3.  And that's why I skipped 0 and put these guys in negative numbers.  Yep, these Twinks have to be sellers now.

Eeesh ... three at Toronto and then four in Boston.  The Blue Jays are below .500 but God, this club could be in tatters this time next week.

#-2: Vikings (Re-Entry!).  My God.  I was passing by Hooters MOA yesterday afternoon when I looked at the TV and saw the breaking news on the crawl: Vikings Offensive Line Coach Tony Sparano died yesterday morning at the age of just 56.  He went to the hospital complaining about chest pains on Thursday, but after taking test, he was released Friday.  He and his wife were preparing to go to church Sunday morning, but she found him unconscious and he wasn't able to be revived.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the Sparano family.  Also, my thoughts go out to the Vikings.  The offensive line turned into a major weakness towards the end of last season, and yet I cannot fathom how that unit is going to come together in the wake of the untimely and undeserved death of their position coach.  Maybe this becomes a rallying point for them.

Addendum To: Addendum To: Fucking Driver's License Change

Oh, I need to catch you guys up on the my driver's license.

So, last time (OK, next-to-last time) I talked about it, I talked about refusing to pay full price to get my name corrected on my driver's license because of my principles, goddammit.  Then I spent a few hours tossing my room to find the receipt that would have gotten me this name change for free, to no avail.  OK, we're all caught up.

So I bit the bullet a couple days later and went to the DMV to pay fucking full price to get my name changed.  I don't quite understand this, but what the person who helped me said may have exonerated me.  She quickly looked up the history of my name in their records and, at least according to her, my name has been wrong -- as in my middle name and last name have been transposed -- since 1997.  I'll let you in on this: I had noticed that my middle and last names were in the wrong places for a while now, at least before the license before the license where my parents found out.  But good God, not since 1997.  Guess I still would have needed my receipt to get out of paying full price anyway, but has the state thought that that was my name for the past 21 years???

They told me it would take six weeks to get my new license.  It took more like two months.  I got it through the mail Friday.  I opened it yesterday morning ... "What the hell?!?!"  They got my name right ... and then repeat my middle name at the end.  I don't understand who the fuck no one caught that.

So I had to fucking go to the library/DMV again, birth certificate in hand again, and wait in line to instantly complain about this, and for which I definitely will not need to pay, if only because my paper is tucked into my wallet.  The person parceling out the waiting numbers looked at the mistake on my new driver's license and uttered under her breath, "Idiots."  She immediately sent me to a person (allowing me to cut in line, thank Buddha) so she could make copies of my old (wrong) license, my new (wrong) license, my birth certificate and my change application paper.  She said it'll be two weeks.  I'll give it four.

I still can't fucking believe they screwed it up -- not really again, but the way they screwed it up.

I Don't Know If Going To The Same Library Twice Is A Good Thing

I was here the first time, around 11 o'clock, to map out my trek to Portillo's (they had two hot dogs for $5 as part of their Hot Dog Week) and to type out an invoice for Mother.  And I'm here now to reserve a spot at Great Clips and to, well, type this so I can blog twice in one day, something I want to do more often, even if one of the blog posts is something as trite as this.

I like libraries.  They're good, and I appreciate my tax dollars being used to help the public at large for both educational needs and just to have something to do.  And, well, I am here this time around, to blog post this, to do something.  Still, I'm still bugged that this is something I look forward to -- you know, I feel as though there is something else/better I could do.  Eh, whatever; I have to get my hair cut now and then I need to get a pop from Wal-Mart before eating prime ribs at home (well, trying to eat at home; that chocolate cake shake from Portillo's knocked the wind out of me, and then I went to Utepils for a beer and some rib tips).

It's Not How Much You Spend, It's How Much You Save!

Herberger's is just about closing down for all eternity.  There is a huge store in The Mall Closest To Me, and with them advertising that their shit is now 60-80% off (maybe they could have saved some of that money advertising to shore up its bottom line instead), I thought it best to drop by there last evening on my way to Glam Doll.

I was surprised to see so many things still on the shelves.  I know that the announcement that Herberger's was going to liquidate was at least a couple months ago, and seeing that it's selling its stuff for more than half off, I thought the parasitic vultures people seeking a bargain turn into would have picked the place clean.  That is not the case.  Moreover, on a Friday night it was a hell of a lot emptier than I thought it would be.  Contrast that with the St. Paul Macy's closing down several years ago, or better yet, the Macy's in Minneapolis.  It was not too far before they were gone for good, but when I went, both stores already looked abandoned.

I was able to amble around and look at everything that was priced to move.  I then thought about what I needed to buy ... which was nothing.  But dammit, if I have all of this I could buy at prices I won't see for a long time (oh, who am I kidding, stores are dying, I'll be going through another clearance like this again very soon), why not get something?  I mean, who cares if I'm unemployed right now?

You know what I could get?  Another suit.  Unfortunately, suits still seem to be way too expensive for my taste, even though they're 65% off right now.  I also have to see if the suits fit me, and to do that I would need to find my measurements.  Sadly, I thought I had them here in WAF and I can't friggin' find them.  Moreover, even if I can find them or if I could have them determined or if I just bluff my way into so me guesses I then have to piece them together because I did not see any sets together.  In other words, it's complicated.

Besides a suit I guess I could use a dress shirt or two.  Maybe some jeans and/or khakis.  And maybe some nice pants with an easy fly to open so I could flash my dick to strippers.  And see, this is where I drop down the rabbit hole.  I really don't need all these things, but the pull of getting a huge bargain at the expense of a company that's about to destroy itself had already got me dreaming of buying stuff.  Actually I still am dreaming.  I'm dreaming about when I can go back, about whether I can risk holding out to see if Herberger's starts marking prices 90% off or if I should go back sooner and get the stuff I want now before someone else gets them.  I don't generally like shopping and yet, shopping is what I'm thinking about now.

How To Beat The Republicans

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She Is My Last Whore

Some time this afternoon I'm going to drive all the way down the loop from here and, lord willing, fuck ****e.  It's been two months since I last fucked her -- fucked anyone, I believe -- but it's felt like longer.  I've had such an urge to stick my dick into someone that I'm really scared that when the time comes, or cums, I'll cum too soon and ruin the moment.  All I really want is to bite ****e's nice titties.  And rawdog her, of course.

When I was first propositioned by her, I thought it would be a one-off, a two-off at best.  She lives way too far from me to make this a regular occurrence.  Plus, I thought, I had other whores who 1) whore out just as well as ****e does who 2) will do it for the same price as she does and 3) live way closer to me.  She's nice, but it's such a schlep for the same good stuff I can get closer to home, how often could I really go and see her?

Well, things change.  For one thing, ****e has a bunch of advantages I have learned that my other whores don't have.  She has a roommate, but no kids.  She doesn't mind cooking for me once in a while, a sign that she, uh, loves me?  She sucks my dick and lets me enter her in the raw, of course.  And sometimes she's not around when I have to leave, so it looks as though I can shortchange her by $20, like I did that one time.  And she doesn't seem to care.  I really expect her to greet me, hold me, then fuck me.

In the meantime my other whores have fallen away.  My used-to-be-main whore, ***a*, has started to ghost me again.  And the one time I dropped by to see her, she's gotten a new job, so I don't know when she'll be free.  Her half-sister, ****e, is someone I've fucked a couple times, but she always insisted on a condom, and she has forsworn sex-for-money ever since she got into this custody case.  There are two other girls who used to work at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) who I fuck at parties, *****e* and *****a, but they also demand I glove up and, besides that one afternoon with *****e*, they don't want me to make housecalls.  I can only fuck around with them at parties, it seems, replete with $25 cover charges and other guys hanging out in the living room and waiting for me to rail them so they can take their turns railing them.  P-U.

So, it's ****e.  She takes antidepressants and she might not be stable, but for my masculine, sexual needs, she's all I've got.  And you know what?  It's good enough for me.  At least for now.  I'm looking forward to crushing that ass in a bit.

Addendum To: You Know, I Should Blog About This World Cup Game Before The Final

So I checked the standings after France, and I, won.  As before the World Cup Final was played, I did that trick where I scrolled sloooooooowly down the standings.  But I was under no illusion that I somehow leaped over nine other people and won.  And I didn't.  I finished four points behind the winner, who got 14 of the 15 Knockout Stage picks right.  (He got Spain beating Russia, but really, who didn't?)  I was kind of beating myself up for thinking I had selected Belgium to beat Brazil when I actually had the opposite, but even if I did get that pick right, my three incorrect Round of 16 picks (Spain over Russia, Portugal over Uruguay, Switzerland over Sweden) doomed me to finish a point behind this guy who's based in Hermitage, Tenn., so I would have lost anyway.

The only shame I now feel is feeling that I was so good in the Knockout Stage, and really the entire World Cup, but because there is only one grand prize I didn't win much.  I finished with 63 points, tied with two other people, but if the tie-breakers is total goals for the tournament predicted, I beat out those two and thus technically finished seventh.  For a huge, nationwide tournament like that I should get something.  But I don't.  Well, I do; because I finished first among all prognosticators who declared the Mall Of America Hooters his Favorite Location, I get free buffalo shrimp and free fried pickles.  But there were, like, two other people from the area who played, and I waxed both of them.  Also, I now need to know how in the heck I get that free food.

One observation: I used to like the World Cup just for the spectacle itself.  Sure, they need to play more Group Stage games, they have to go back to the Golden Goal and I still don't understand why referees get to subjectively pad out injury time.  But that's a part of the game, and I have made peace with it.  But this time around I was watching all these games through the prism of this contest at Hooters.  I wasn't really a Neutral; I had a dog in each fight, and my mood would swing from good to bad depending on whether I chose correctly or not.  Such is the corrosive effect of gambling.

A Decision That Backfired On Me ...

... and it involves, what else, food.

Yesterday evening I attended a United FC seat selection meeting at their headquarters.  It was late in the afternoon, and after I decided I really wanted to get my seats then and there instead of waiting, I looked at my watch.  It said 5:30.  I was in Golden Valley, and knowing how bad traffic was, I texted Father on my way back out to my car that I was going to be late, coming home at 6:30.

I'm bad at anticipating backed-up traffic.  However, even though I initially cursed myself for not doing a U-turn and going up 100, I go to 94 on time enough whereby I would be home by 6 -- my usual time coming home from "work."

So I could have come home at my regular time.  On my way home I needed to by lotto tickets for Father, but that was no big deal -- I'd just come home a bit past 6 instead of at 6.  But I didn't want to change things on my parents again.  But what to do?  I know -- eat!  But should I?

I think it's fair to say that having the following internal monologue is a privilege of someone with a bit too much time on his hands.  I did not think I was going to have a big and/or wow-type meal at home.  I figure it would be that dish with tofu, egg and that meat with all that fat or something.  In other words, what I would have for dinner wouldn't be something I would get fat over.  That means that I could stop at the gas station, buy the tickets, get a little bite to eat, then come home closer to the 6:30 I told my folks.  So I did not go home early/at my usual time.  I thought first to get a hot dog from the gas station, but then I saw that sign where they goad you into getting a second dog for a buck, and I didn't want to eat that much.  There's a Taco Bell attached to this gas station, and I got their Nacho Fries Supreme, something I don't think I've ever had.

So I got home a bit before 6:30.  My parents were done eating.  And, unfortunately, I had ... soup.  Pho, to be exact ... or is it bun?  Anyway, Mother always makes a kick-ass soup.  It's one of my favorites from her.  And I couldn't quite enjoy it, let alone eat it within, like, an hour, because I was full from eating the Nacho Fries Supreme from before.  If this were a "lesser" dish, I could've stopped myself from eating too much.  But this is a bowl of soup, and one that I usually want to finish because it's awesome, and although I did eat it all, my appetite was ruined.  Maybe I should have just gone home early and bypassed Taco Bell.

Yeah, I'm Back To Stalking Her

I have two weeks' worth of free time on my hands, I'm in her part of town and I'm horny as fuck.  So after blogging this at the library very close to her place, I'm going to drop by ***a*'s apartment to see if she's there.  If so, I'm going to ask if she got my texts seeing if I could make a housecall, so to speak.  Maybe she's free and her daughter's away, so we could fuck, but that won't help because I have no money.

It'd be weird if I just went over to her apartment for, like, the fifth time in 30 days.  But fuck it, I don't care.  Wish me luck!

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Monday, July 16:

• Went to Caribou/Einstein.  You know, I don't want to get caught up on customer service, and it's not as if she was a bitch or anything, she was just ... curt.  Oh, and I know I'm due a free drink but she said I didn't have one coming.  Whatever.  I made a mocha into a coffee instead.  That'll teach her.  With bagel and tip: $6.
• Realized that if I'm going to be furloughed for the next two weeks (should blog about that), I should go to the U. and look at the experiment boards and pick up a couple studies.  I brought the lunch my folks packed for me; along the way I would eat the steamed bun after heating it up in the microwave in the student union.  Along the way I remembered that sometimes there would be a tent where the U. would be serving food.  And alas, there was this pop-up restaurant right on the Quad called, I think, U. BBQ.  It wasn't really a barbecue, it was mostly just your usual grillable meat.  But it was there, and I was there, and even though I could have saved my stomach and money, I got a hamburger.  Why not?  Live a little!  And I didn't even have to tip, even though I had a dollar out due to force of habit.  Total: $5.75.
• Then went to the Dunn Bros. at the Rosedale library because I needed to know the price of the small mocha frap I bought there on the 11th.  With a dollar tip this sweet treat was: $5.83.
• Went to exercise, felt the need to drink pop, went to Wal-Mart for a Pepsi, but that was all sold out, so I walked over to the Coke machine, which I wanted to avoid on this day because of this article.  Cost: 50 cents.
• Sunday the 15th was the World Cup Final.  France won.  My pre-tournament pick actually won!!!  And so I wasn't too cheesed off that the Nomad took cover, especially since I got a t-shirt for it.  Charged the Marla's Caribbean wrap and Bloody Karenina and got fully reimbursed for parking; the cover was: $5.
• I then had time to go the library and then celebrate National Ice Cream Day by going to a spot from Franklin Ave. to this new spot called Wonders before seeing my friend's show in St. Paul.  They do this thing called rolled-up ice cream.  I still don't really believe there's much of a difference, but golly, that ice cream was good!  Sure it was hot outside, but it was good.  Really pricey, though.  Anyway, I got to the theater just as the lights went down.  Whew!  I actually got lost finding Wonders, but I'm glad I was able to fit seeing my friend's musical into this Sunday.  And I got in via student rush, and so the ticket was only: $10.
• Saturday, July 14 ... went to the United match.  Got my usual hot dog and Redd's for: $15.25.
• After the game I went to Glam Doll.  Saturday was National Mac And Cheese Day, and once I learned what day it was, I made a day of it.  I went to the Minneapolis Revival, which many people say has the best mac 'n' cheese in town, for lunch.  (Thirty bucks total with a burger and a banana cream pie.  Glad I charged it.)  And then I made a point to eat the Bellybomb, Glam Doll's mac-and-cheese donut, tonight.  I had wanted to eat it again for a while, and this was the perfect occasion.  With two bucks in tips because the guy giving me the Bellybomb was really cool and generous with chips and the mac-n-cheese tots as a reward for waiting as he sorted out some other dishes from people lined up in front of me: $13.07.
• To Friday the 13th, where I had to go back to the library and get another thing for the HR person for the company I'll be working for full-time, namely a paystub: 10 cents.
• After the library, and then working out (well, I had to return a call and check my e-mail, so I was on the treadmill for, like, 20 minutes before the gym closed at 5), I went to Wal-Mart.  This summer's been so damn hot I've had to get a pop can, in this case a Coke, and for price, you can't beat Wal-Mart, which charges only: 50 cents.
• Thursday the 12th -- while waiting for word of when we're going back to the law firm (a call that, apparently, will never come), I went to the combo Caribou/Einstein.  Was going to get a bagel, but apparently my card said I could get two bucks off a breakfast sandwich.  Cool.  That plus a medium mocha (for which I got a buck off because I filled out a survey) and tip and it all came out to: $8.50.
• Figured that I should start printing off these pages I need for my new job in case I start on Monday.  Turns out I won't, but I still printed them out at the library: $3.80.
• Before coming home I went to Wal-Mart to get a Pepsi from the vending machine.  Is there any other place on Earth where you can get a can for: 50 cents.
• Back to Wednesday, July 11 -- Caribou in the morning.  Small mocha, cookie, tip: $6.
• Then I went to the Nomad to take in the Croatia-England semifinal.  Thank Buddha this bar reimburses at the parking lot.  I turned around and used the money I got back for parking to pay for the Tecate that was on special all tournament.  With tip it came out to: $5.
• And then I went to Dunn Bros. for a mocha frap.  With tip: $5.83.
• Went to the United match afterward.  They're in the middle of a two-match-per-week spate.  This is where they lost that Friendly/Exhibition to Costa Rican soccer club Saprissa, 2-1.  Since I expected way fewer people attending this game (and I was right; I got to the gate 20 minutes before 7 and I breezed through) I indulged by eating food at places where there would be lines for official matches.  Got a bacon-wrapped hot dog to go with my Redd's.  With tip: $16.50.
• Satur Tuesday the 10th: Parked downtown for what would be my last day at this gag.  Still find it weird that I was sent off with a "We'll call you back when we need you," and then they never called back.  Whatever: $8.
• Stopped by Caribou because I got a free size upgrade.  With tip for my medium coffee, priced as a small: $2.50.
• After work I went to the alumni chapter's Plan B place.  Our first game of the season has to be here because it's on a specific network our main bar does not have.  I went there a few times after work to make myself familiar with the people there.  Coors Light at Happy Hour plus tip equals: $4.
• Back to Monday the 9th, where I parked downtown: $8.
• Then I decided to eat at a food truck because, hey, who's going to track my lunch break?  I had heard of O'Cheeze and I waited for several minutes (actually a half-hour total) to get a mac-'n'-cheese sandwich.  It was ... good.  Maybe it would've been good for cheaper somewhere else, but it was good.  With tip the sandwich came out to: $9.88.
• Sunday, July 8 ... I finally had time to see my friend in the cemetery.  Went to the closest floral shop I could find to slap a rose and a carnation together.  The man who helped me was really nice and generous; he knocked off the tax, so I just had to pay a clean: $2.
• ETA on July 18 at 3:15 a.m. that I forgot to put this EWR in: With the Mega Millions jackpot jetting past $200 million, I'm back to getting tickets for Father, for which he pays me back, like he did on this afternoon after I came home.  An Infusion of: $20.
• On Saturday the 7th I decided to mix up my World Cup-watching routine.  There were three main places I watched the World Cup, and these three places are the ones where I usually watch soccer once the club season begins: Brit's, The Local, and the Nomad.  But on this day, the second of back-to-back Doubleheader Quarterfinals, I switched it up ... mostly because the American Swedish Institute was hosting a watch party for the first match of the day, Sweden vs. England.  England won, and easily, but I have always wanted to go to this museum, and this WC Watch Party was the perfect excuse to see the mansion and try their version of the Bloody Mary, which the lauded restaurant, Fika, calls the Bloody Swede.  (They use aquavit and beet juice instead of vodka and tomato juice.  It has a brighter color of red, but it was a bit too sweet and smooth for my taste.)  If you attended the match (which, I have to say, cut out from time to time; this was taking place in the auditorium upstairs, but they had to use an online stream of the game, and it lagged when buffering on several occasions), you got free admission into the mansion.  And I'm glad I did.  The mansion is OK, a standing relic to the Swede that built the mansion.  But there was an accompanying exhibition by a Finnish sculptor named Kim Simonsson.  He is known for pieces of stubby-looking children he calls "Moss People," for the velvety finish he sprays on this sculptures before he fires them up in the kiln.  Check out the work; his "kids" are a combination of cute and creepy.  But the ingenious thing about the exhibit is that his pieces were just dotted conspicuously over this conservative and staid mansion.  For example, there is a recreation of the mansion's dining room ... but there is Simonsson's sculpture of a girl splashing into a puddle on the dining room table, and an alien-looking being with sharp "ears" and that moss-like skin sitting next to the fireplace.  These out-of-place works were just dropped willy-nilly all over the mansion, and thus these eerie kids are even eerier.  Genius, AmSwed Institute!  Oh ... I forgot that I put the Bloody Swede on my credit card.  Anyway, for the second game, Russia versus Croatia, I went over to the Town House on University Ave. in St. Paul.  It was recently bought and will be turned into a soccer pub, but right now it's still an LGBTQ bar.  And it still isn't much of a soccer pub either; there were many screens, but all of them seemed to be smaller than 30", except for the projection screen, and it had so many reception issues that it was pixelated and frozen most of the match.  Hope the new owners get bigger TVs and a bigger antenna.  Oh, I hope they make good on taking credit cards.  I had a late lunch and ordered some bar food combo, but they didn't take credit cards, so I had to use cash even though I didn't want to on this day.  With a Michelob Golden Draft on tap and tip the whole shebang cost me: $12.50.
• I got up and left after Russia tied the game in Added Extra Time.  Didn't want to see Croatia lose.  So I went home ... well, I went to DQ first to enjoy a sundae.  They have a TV there.  It was tuned to ESPN, and I saw on its crawl that the Croatians survived the Russians on Penalty Kicks.  Phew.  The sundae cost a penny more than it used to: $3.21.
• After that I went home, then went out to "work out."  Really, I went out to Brit's for its United FC Watch Party.  Except there wasn't much of a party; there were no tables available outside and I couldn't eat on the lawn, so I went to the bar to watch the Loons get the shit kicked out of them by Houston without any sound.  Yeah, I need to re-evaluate going here for MNUFC road games.  I charged all my food to my card.  Went to Glam Doll afterward.  Charged the coffee and my first donut, I think.  Tip along with the second donut: $3.75.
• Going back to Friday, July 6 ... downtown parking for work: $8.
• Hit up another food truck because I was working downtown.  This time I went to another lauded food truck, Tacocat.  Their street tacos were ... good.  With tip: $9.
• Went to our alumni club's main place to say hi and grab a Bud Light.  With tip: $3.
• Wednesday, the 4th of July: Tooled around at home, ate a light breakfast, then lit out to Caffetto to work on my computer over a Dang! butterscotch root beer.  Nice pop.  With tip: $2.75.
• My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) was open for the day and was closing at 6.  I stopped by there before the Loons game.  No dances, just a Sprite and stage tips.  Saw an old stripper who hadn't danced there in months because she's transitioning into real estate.  She was scared that she was going to subconsciously walk up the stairs and start taking her clothes off, hah!  Total: $8.
• MNUFC ... dollar dog (they don't seem to be much different from the regular dog; are they not the same?) and Redd's: $10.50.
• Realized the game ended before fireworks usually lit up the sky.  But I couldn't really go home immediately after the match (where the Loons had to hold on for dear life to be Toronto, 4-3) because I told my parents I was seeing fireworks with a friend.  But I knew that Caffetto would be open and immune to any holiday shenanigans.  So I went there a second time (the first time I've ever done that at Caffetto) for a Bubble-Up (a Sprite-like drink I always had when I was a child) and a piece of chocolate cake.  With tip it set me back: $7.
• Tuesday the 3rd was the final day of the World Cup Round of 16 (which I like to call the Eighthfinals).  I was kind of perturbed I was furloughed for that day from work, but that meant I could spend the entire day at the Nomad taking in both games.  So I threw in enough dollars at the parking station so I didn't have to move my car for either game.  I thought I was going to be given full reimbursement for which I would use to buy a Bloody Karenina (their version of a Bloody Mary; tastes like a Bloody Mary but spicier), but the bartender (who, and I will expound on her, was fucking hot, yow!) gave me that drink without giving me back the dollar which would make up the difference between what I paid for parking at that Bloody Karenina with a dollar tip.  In other words, she took a dollar from me.  Oh well; I made up for that by ordering a Tecate tallboy and something from the food truck outside in time for the second game, Colombia-England.  I was going to give two bucks' tip for all of that, but I reduced that to one to make up for being ripped off for the first game, Switzerland-Sweden.  For this, things balanced out.  Total for all was a pretty good for six straight hours: $15.75.
• And after that I went to the library to print out some stuff.  Total: 30 cents.

Phew!  Good through July 16.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Still ignoring the Lynx, who got their brains beat in at Target by Connecticut Sunday night and now sit in eighth place with about a dozen games to go, but they won last year, so we're not gonna talk about them, no sirree. ...

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  This really wasn't a good screening week for any local teams.  I initially had the Loons in first.  But then I had to admit my myself that, at least for this year, neither club was going anywhere, so I went to the records and, yes, the Twinks finished the week 5-2, so they are top this time around.  But frankly, they needed to run the table in this long homestand, and they didn't, going only 9-2.  They almost suffered a third loss yesterday/Sunday against the Bay Rays of Tampa, pissing away a bottom-of-the-Ninth lead by surrendering the tying Run with 2 Out, but Brian Dozier, the first player who probably should be traded by this club, ended the game in the 10th with a Grand Slam.  (That homer capped off a strange game where there were not one but two bench-clearing sort-of brawls.)

So going into the All-Star Break (and congratulations again go out to Pitcher Jose Berrios, although I am kind of shocked no one announced they pulled up lame and thus gave a spot to Eddie Rosario), the Twinks are second in the American League Central Division, 44-50 and 7 1/2 games behind first-place Cleveland.  So they're sellers, right?  Who could or should go?  Dozier's a goner.  Fernando Rodney has been heart attack-inducing, but someone might need a new closer or set-up man.  Hell, the bullpen could be sold off for parts -- Zach Duke, Addison Reed, Trevor Hildenberger.  But how about -- and bear with me now -- Miguel Sano and Byron Buxton?  Sano is still down on the farm in Ft. Myers, while Buxton is still hurt and isn't hitting at the plate when he was OK.  Would it be too far-fetched to pull the plug on these two once-can't-miss prospects and see what you can get from a team that still sees potential in them?  Maybe they can still be good players, but they probably won't be the long-term superstars they were slated to be when the Twins drafted them.  If that's the case, and with this organization suffering a serious set-back this year, why not stock up for the future?  Burn it down, I say, and see if you can build a team around Berrios, Rosario and, uh, Jake Cave.

Any attempt to hunt down Cleveland in the second half of the season begins with the handicap of them on the road for three series.  (It seems as though their season has consisted either of long homestands or long roadtrips.)  First up is the worst of the three: Kansas City.

#-2: United FC (Last Week: -2).  Well, now that I have seen it, I am absolutely shocked, shocked I tell you, that Adrian Heath blew a gasket after the Loons survived Real Salt Lake Saturday, 3-2.  They were up 3-0 in that match via Goals from Ibson, Darwin Quintero, Jr. (another beautiful chip -- man, players should chip more often) and the courageous Miguel Ibarra, all in the Second Half.  But the defense, once again, started to take on serious water, giving up a pair of tallies eight minutes apart by RSL sub Joao Plata.

That sent the Head Coach into blowing a gasket.  As we serenaded the side with "Wonderwall," Heath (and I wish I could embed the interview) lashed out at his players during his post-match, on-pitch interview with Jamie Watson, saying how ridiculous it was that they had to hang on for dear life to take away all three points and then, after curtly thanking Watson, walking away.  And he did not let up for his post-game press conference.

I think that him getting pissed off is totally in line, even if his squad won.  After blowing leads vs. Colorado and Kansas City and getting hounded off the pitch by clubs below them in the West like San Jose and Seattle, it's about time Heath did.  And, to highlight one of my issues, that's one problem.  Why didn't he show the fans and supporters how upset he is before?  For example, why didn't he lose his head Wednesday night in that 2-1 loss in that Friendly/Exhibition against Costa Rican club Saprissa?  (They played up here because MNUFC's Francisco Calvo, who is our team's lone All-Star, BTW, played for Saprissa.)  I know that it didn't count.  But in the same way you could say United didn't try, neither did Saprissa, and in a vacuum between similarly unmotivated teams, I expected these guys to win out.  (Oh, and a rule for future WMNSS's: I don't take into account exhibitions if the home team wins, but I do if they lose.  It's a pessimistic way of looking at things, but this is my survey.)  And yet they lost, and once again they lost late in the game on a Goal by Saprissa's Carlos Villegas (a sub) in the 85th.  There have been many games after which Heath should have blown his top; I blew mine after that game.

And this leads to the other issue I have with Heath.  It has been demonstrably proven that after defeats and sort-of tongue-lashings by him, he trots out the same starting lineup that presumably made all those mistakes he criticized them for.  There is no accountability; otherwise, starters would get benched.  Look, Heath can get mad all he wants.  But if he's going to be this upset, there goddamn better be some drastic changes for this week's home matches versus New England (Wednesday) and high-spending expansion club LAFC (Sunday).  If he doesn't, he's all talk and no action.

#-3: Timberwolves (Re-Entry!).  They are here, and at the bottom, because this week the organization tendered a four-year, $100 million extension to Jimmy Butler, and Butler and his team threw it right back in their faces.  He has one year left on his current contract, and he, like virtually every other player in the National Basketball Association, wants to be clear of a contract after next season in order to cash in on what everybody says will be a massive salary cap rise, leading to a free agency free-for-all, for the 2019 offseason.  How everybody just knows there will be many millions more to spend on the salary cap, I have no clue.

But this brings me to something I don't think I've talked much of: The ongoing, simmering lack of chemistry between Butler and the Two Woofie Pups, Karl-Anthony Towns and Andrew Wiggins.  Simply put, they don't get along.  And whether it's a generational thing or something else, it cropped up during the season and hasn't really gotten better over the summer.  As Towns is in line for a max contract (despite his up-and-down year), there might be enough pie to go around to satisfy the core from this group.  Already Jamal Crawford left and Nemanja Bjelica was let go -- not heart-breaking losses, but they contributed to a group that finally reached the playoffs.

So beyond trying to reconstruct a bench on a meager budget, Tom Thibodeau and the front office braintrust will now try and keep their big stars happy even though there is no sign that they can mesh.  So if that's the case, what should they prioritize -- the two young stars that have yet shown they can take the next step?  Or the bona fide superstar who has had injury troubles and may yet want to move on to a different team and play with Kyrie Irving?

This is not a good problem a squad that is supposed to be headed for bigger and brighter things should have.  The worst-case scenario?  The best players forces a trade and they're left with a lazy stooge with no D and a millennial who doesn't know how to lead.  Good God, this team is cursed.

You Know, I Should Blog About This World Cup Game Before The Final

So I'm this World Cup predictor/March Madness-like game (and by the way, why aren't there more companies that did this?  I only saw two places: The one I'm blogging about, and the official one through FIFA.  Man, those guys maintain a tight grip on something that could be much more popular if they only loosened the reins on their rights.).  And I did pretty good.  So good, in fact, that I won free food for Group Stage and, it looks like, free food for the Knockout/Tournament Stage as well.

I had dreams of winning the grand prize, which is free food for a year and a 50" TV.  I got three wrong in the eighthfinals and I had Brazil beating Belgium, but other than that, up to this point, I've been really good.  And so I tracked myself -- well, up to before the semifinals, because I was afraid of getting my hopes up when I looked at the leaderboard.  Last time I checked there were, like, four dozen people I was behind.

But then both France and Croatia won.  And I swore that I would look, just one time, before the final, which is in ... an hour.  I knew I should't've done this, but I had dreams that I was leading.  I knew that could not have been the case ... and when I scrolled down the leaderboard last night while at Glam Doll, that was true.  I'm only four points behind the leader, and if France wins I'll overtake that person.  But I currently sit in a nine-way tie for tenth.  That means that for me to win, 1) none of the guys in front of me have to also have France winning and 2) if there is anyone with whom I am tied after the title match, I would have to beat them in the tie-breaker, which is predicting the total number of goals in this whole World Cup.

Yeah, not gonna happen.  So it doesn't really matter if France or Croatia win.  Pressure's off.  But hey, at least I'll get free food from this!

Sorry, I've Got Nothing Right Now But This

The weather has been hot and humid -- should blog about this -- but in the time since I lost my job on Tuesday, I have actually been able to nap in my car.  Don't know how or why, but I've been able to find shade, either in a parking ramp or under a tree, tilted my seat back, put on my eye shades, and just drifted away for a while.  I hope for that to continue as I start what should be my two-week furlough.

Three Things To Blog About Real Quick So I Can Say I Blogged Today

1. I would have brushed my teeth if not for needing to drink this sugar tea shit my parents made for me.  Took me hours to drink it all.  Just got done with it, and since it's past 1 and I'm tired as fuck, I won't be brushing my teeth ... even though there is sugar all over it from this tea shit.
2. Got in contact with my temp agency ... the law firm has gone dark on my contact similar to her co-worker saying a lead dried up on her.  Like I said before, I had a sneaking suspicion I should take my stuff with me when I left for the day on Tuesday.  But my supervisor certainly didn't give me any indication that Tuesday would be my last day.  I just wanted to make sure.  It's still weird that we were told, "We'll get back to you," and then be ghosted like this.
3. Yesterday/Friday was National French Fry Day, so I went to the fast food place that had the best fries.  And scouring all the lists that popped up on the first page of Google, I think the consensus was ... Arby's.  And today is National Mac And Cheese Day, so I'm doing the same thing today, except that there are no fast food places that serve man 'n' cheese (well, besides Kentucky Fried Chicken and Panera), so I'll be going to a local restaurant that many people believe has the best in town -- Revival.

Yeah, that's all I got.

So ... Apparently I Lost My Job On Tuesday??

OK, this law firm job is kind of jerking me around.  Similar to what happened last week, because of lack of work and (according to my supervisor) lack of direction from his client as to what we need to do with the raw information we have put into spreadsheets, we were furloughed on Tuesday.  We were told that, like last week, we should wait to hear from the temp agency as to when to report back.

So I took the day off Wednesday and headed to the Nomad for the Croatia-England World Cup semifinal.  Yesterday/Thursday I spent most of my afternoon at the library, seriously starting up the paperwork for my new job.  (Oh, the new job, have I not talked about that yet?  I will because I have to.)  I was expecting an e-mail like I did last Wednesday saying we're coming back for work Friday.  But even as I was checking my laptop during my workout yesterday afternoon, I didn't get anything, so as far as I know, we're not coming in today, and therefore our workweek is done.  And since this new job wants to start Monday, he-he, I'm done there.

I had a feeling that Tuesday was my last day.  My contact at the temp agency believed we were going to be done this week.  Add that to this furlough and accepting this job, and I'm glad I had a second thought about leaving all my stuff at work and instead taking them all home with me.  And I even slipped in a sort-of-but-not-so goodbye to the closest of my three fellow temps before I left on Tuesday: "Hope to see you ... somewhere."  Because assuming my drug test is done and cleared, I ain't coming back.

You know, although I've been treated well at this gig (my supervisor left me alone save for a convivial meeting every afternoon; I was able to go downstairs many times for as long as I want), I don't remember a job where I was told to not come back until told to by my temp agency.  I remember a couple instances at the test scoring places where we were told on a day that that was our last day, and that is worse.  But this is nonetheless a strange situation where I don't know why I need to come back.  And that really affects my bottom line.  I think it's right to assume I will work.  To be cut off from that work, and then to be on hold as to when I will be back to work, to me is too reminiscent of being a temp.  Hopefully as a full-timer now, I won't have to go through this "on-call" ridiculousness where, like someone working retail or at a fast food restaurant, you have to build your day around the potential of being told to come into work and not being paid for that preparation.

In other words, the past couple days is one of the big reasons why I finally got sick of being a temp.  So weird to not return to a job that I didn't know was I was finished with.

Now That I Think About It, I Was Pretty Mean To That Girl

There was a girl who came over to the house a lot when we were young.  Her mom was friends with Grandmother.  It was only upon Grandmother's death where, assuming what my sister said was the truth, I learned the truth: This friend was the gateway through which Grandmother and my parents were able to come to America.  Now, I don't know all the details, and I certainly can't vet them.  Hell, I don't even know 100% if this girl is related to Grandmother's friend because I noticed very early on that she didn't look like the "mom" she always went with.

Nevertheless we hung out a lot because her "mom" always brought her over when she visited Grandmother.  And I don't know how we got to be so chummy, but me, her and my brother did.  I remember going to McDonald's a lot.  I remember us three doing a deep dive into pro wrestling, none of us knowing that it's all fake.

And then we drifted apart.  Don't remember when, don't know why.  But I remember her coming back, all these years later, when I was in high school.  (My brother may or may not have been there.)  Her "mom" came over for the first time in a long time, and she came over, so she was probably in junior high or high school or something like that.  And … I freaked out as soon as I realized she was here.  I ran into my room to hide.  I felt really bad at the time.  Was just really quiet as I heard her, after a while, playing with or assisting my sister or some other child who was over at our place.  I don't know how long they were at home, but I'm guessing it felt like an eternity.  Stayed quiet the whole time they were here, only sneaking out of my room as soon as I knew they were gone.

I'm certain she knew that I was in my room.  I have no idea how she felt/feels about me holing up in there and refusing to come out.  I, like a coward, can only think about how I felt and feel.  I think this meeting was a surprise.  Not only had I not seen her in years, I didn't they she and her "mom" would come over.  I was blindsided, and I hate that, so to fight back, so to speak, I hid.  I hid until they relented and left.  I win, I guess, but I still kind of think how much of a dick I was.  And I still feel like that to this day.

I wonder where she is.  I wonder if she hates me.

Oh, People Are Pissing Me Off So Much These Days

Fuck!  OK, I need to say that.

Two people, both women.  Don't want to be misogynistic, I truly think both of them are … uh, I can't say "bitches" anymore, can I?  Horrible people.  Hate them.

OK, first one gave me horrible service when I brought my car in.  Curt, didn't make eye contact, and (yes, I am one of those fucking people) didn't say thank you when we were done.  I should have known this bitch (sorry, I can't help it) didn't want to be there when I gave her this coupon for a gift card I was eligible for (because I just shelled out $400 for services) and she grabbed it and threw it away.  What really pissed me off, though (and I'll throw this out there because I will allow for the possibility that I, uh, overreacted, although I don't think I did) is that when she handed me over the receipt to sign, instead of having a pen right in front of her to hand to me, she says, and I quote, "The pens are over there."  And I have to reach over to this pot of pens to grab one.  Jesus fuck, you don't have a goddamn pen right in front of you to hand over to customers?  And you put all the pens in a canister that you keep out of arm's reach of your customers?  Seriously, I … this is fucking unbelievable.  (And yes, I reiterate that I am one of these customer service pricks.  This shit is on her.)

People like her twist me into such a knot that I act strange.  It's their fault!  She treated me awful, so I throw the receipt back at her.  I leave because I need to get away from her, but then she shouts back at me … because she hasn't given me my gift card.  Dammit!  I need to work on my passive-aggressive game some more.  After she does, I ask, "Is there anything else?"  Silence.  Fuck off.

The dealership sent me an invite for a survey.  I think it's right for me to lay the fuck into her.  Who the hell does she think she is?

---

And then there was this crazy bitch on the highway yesterday while driving home.  There was a massive back-up on the off-ramp I needed, so I … again, I allow that maybe I shouldn't have done this, but, nah … decided to cut in front of this red, uh, Cadillac I think.  Short black woman was behind the wheel, and driving really slowly; that's why I made the calculated risk of merging onto the huge space she put in front of herself.  After getting through the on-ramp, I see this bitch right behind me and quickly zip to the lane to my left.  How the hell did she get there?

I saw how after I went around her and got to my off-ramp several cars ahead of her, he-he.  That goddamn woman was going down the same fucking road I had to go down, but very slowly.  In fact, other drivers, like me, went around her.

I was hoping she wasn't going to my same neighborhood, but I was wary enough that, even though she was hundreds of yards behind me in the other lane, blocking traffic, I kept her in my sideview mirror.  Just as I had to turn off, she stepped on the gas, got up past the car ahead of me, turned on her turn signal and cut in front of that car, which, coincidentally goddammit, switched over to the other lane, thereby letting this bitch get in front of me.  So I was behind her, and I had to turn to the street she was turning to.  I wanted to honk my horn.  I wanted to follow her all the way home.  But I had to control myself at the last minute, and I turned into another street.

I swear she did that just to piss me off.  The only thing that makes me think she isn't is that she was driving so fucking slow that she was pissing off other people, which makes me think she doesn't give a shit about anybody.  She's just a fucking horrible driver.

I'd rat on her, but she doesn't have a license plate on the back of her car.  That's illegal in Minnesota, isn't it?

---

Oh my fucking God, I hate people right now.

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: June

Hmmm ... better selection for this month.  And I'm noticing that the girls are showing just a little more ass in these pictures: Headliner Amanda Olson from Riverside; Marissa from Countryside, Ill.; Laura out of Corpus Christi, Texas; and Alli out of Atlantic City.

Bianca of Orlando has a blue top that is cut in the middle, so she's showing massive sideboob.  But she's not smiling.  Actually, she has a face that's either cooing or saying she's afraid of me.  Meanwhile, Holly from Rohnert Park, Calif., is flexing her wide stomach, enhanced by the low bikini bottom she's wearing.  But it's the one next to her, the one who's also showing stomach (not abs, but stomach, but who cares that she's not toned?) that I'm going to choose as best.  Like Holly, Sarah of the Tucson Hooters is smiling and has a bikini bottom which, if this were the '80s, would be showing the top tuft of her pubes.  But the way she's lit, light is bouncing off of her stomach.  What little abs she has is glistening.  Somehow I ... like that.  So in a strong field, I'm going with Sarah from Tucson!

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2).  Another week where both teams playing this time of year were mediocre during the screening weeks and thus indistinguishable from one another.

I put the Twinks first for two reasons.  One, I just felt like flipping the two teams from last week's WMNSS.  Two, I'm going on last tastes in my mouth, and unlike the Goons below, and despite the Twinks getting swept by a suddenly frisky Bastard Seattle Pilots ballclub in Milwaukee in three games mid-week, they came home and came back (so to speak) to sweep a four-game series from the not-frisky-at-all Bastard St. Louis Browns ballclub.

Let's not get your hopes up; this team is still under .500, this team still probably can't catch Cleveland or any of the four good teams in the American League in this season of extremes (there might be five clubs in MLB that reach 100 wins and 15 that reach 90 losses), and this team still has many, many problems.  With the Trading Deadline at the end of the month I think the organization can see the writing on the wall, this weekend notwithstanding.  That's why you'll probably see Brian Dozier moved, even if he is having a pedestrian season.

That's also why you're seeing prospects with even a shot of contributing on the major-league level being called up.  Which brings me to the story of Jake Cave, one of those guys who always make the most of their chance in The Big Show and, through hustle and luck (but also good play) goes from an absolute nobody to someone who steals the hearts of baseball fans in the community.  With Byron Buxton still hurt and lost at the plate and busted down to the minors, Cave, who was called back up has been installed in the outfield since June 26 (and in Center Field since June 27), has responded by batting .364 and slashing .391/.636/1.028 for the month of July.  And he's made a couple of nifty catches patrolling CF, too.  (He replaced Buxton replacement Ryan LaMarre.  Gleeman and the Geek says that time has run out on LaMarre and the franchise was right to quickly pass him over for Cave to figure out what they've got in him in this lost season.  I thought LaMarre is a prospect, and then I discover that he's 29 years old.  Sorry, Ryan.)

Meanwhile, congratulations to Jose Berrios on being named as the Twins rep to this year's All-Star Game.  Eddie Rosario was named one of the five players for the American League "Last Vote" competition, but a Yankee (Giancarlo Stanton) is also a finalist, so he's going to lose that one.  Well, I'm sure there will be a slew of ASG'ers who can't play because they're "hurt," and so Rosario will be named an injury replacement.  That's the nature of MLB ASGs; there will be, like, 70 players who either will play in the game or be called All-Stars because they were selected.  I won't be surprised if Rosario makes it, and I won't care if he doesn't make it.

Oh, in the meantime the squad will ride out the first half of the season at Target Field.  I didn't notice this: The three teams they will host for this long homestand all suck.  It was Baltimore over the weekend; they will now oppose Kansas City for three games and then Tampa for four.  Again, it's too late for the postseason.  But can they run the table and go 11-0 on this homestand?

#-2: United FC (Last Week: -1).  OK, first off, I thought there would be more of an atmosphere when I decided to take in a watch party at Brit's.  But I guess it was a party only if I decided to stay outside and sit on the lawn to watch the match there.  I couldn't eat food on there and I didn't want to take up a table, and besides, it was busy, so I went to sit in the bar, where they had the match on but did not turn up the sound.  On top of all that, even though the MNUFC Twitter handle said that there was a party at Brit's, in an article on their website they said that there was a party at the Dubliner.  So Jesus, what gives?  Are there two?  Is there a right one and wrong one?  Are there really none?

I will talk about another website: FiftyFive.One, in particular Alex Schieferdecker's excellent and doleful look into the near future of this doomed, rudderless side in the wake of their non-competitive 3-0 loss at Houston Saturday night.  I've been giving this entire operation the benefit of the doubt despite embarrassing losses to doormats such as San Jose and Colorado.  But Schieferdecker ain't taking any shit after that loss to the Dynamo.  He's wondering why in the hell Wyatt Omsberg didn't start, especially when Francisco Calvo had to sit out the match because of too many Yellow Cards.  He also wonders why the Midfield is so old.  In fact, the entire team is old, which is not something you want to see out of a team in its second year in Major League Soccer.  So Schieferdecker calls out Adrian Heath for his refusal to change or to hold players accountable, and after reading this article, I'm beginning to lose my benefit of the doubt for him.  He also calls out Bill McGuire for being so cheap, and even though I will defer to him for deferring major upgrades to personnel until Allianz Field comes online next year, you know, he's got a point with him, too.  (It's essays like these that make me glad I'm a Patreon of FiftyFive.One.  You should be, too.)

So fans are all depressed and pissed, and this despite the Loons snapping a three-game losing streak Independence Night by beating Toronto FC.  I haven't even gotten to Darwin Quintero registering the team's first top-flight Hat Trick in its history -- that's how all-encompassing Saturday's loss was, even though they showed there are still major deficiencies in their defense by the 4-3 scoreline.  And hell, I haven't even gotten to the fact that Calvo has been named MNUFC's first-ever Major League Soccer All-Star a week and a half ago.  See, that's because I can't help but think how terrible they played Saturday.  Well, I forgot the news when it came out; I should have talked about this in last week's survey.  Anyway, congratulations to him.  It's weird that a guy fans have been having a love-hate relationship with has now been named an All-Star.  And with the way the Backline spit the bit vs. the Dynamo, maybe he deserves the accolade.

They host Calvo's old Costa Rican team, Saprissa, Wednesday in a friendly.  They then host Real Salt Lake Saturday.  God, I hope they play decent in this game.  Money doesn't grow on tress, boys.

Just In Case I Die

I was putting bug spray all over me on my way to see my friend in the cemetery.  I know you're not supposed to do this, but I directly sprayed it on my face because I was pressed for time.  And then, because the spray concentrated on a corner of my mouth I, uh, subconsciously (is that the right term?) licked it with my tongue.  This despite bug spray being harmful.

Oh, shit.

I didn't have water to swallow, which is what the spray recommends one do when you swallow bug spray.  This despite having water in a bottle that I brought with me because I was going to use it in the urn for the flowers I bought for my dead friend; I got there, poured the water in, then realized I wanted a swig just before I poured all the water into the dirty urn.  Anyway, I did have Coke and I sure as hell swallowed all that.  But the tip of my tongue has felt numb ever since I licked the bug spray and I've felt kind of oogy all afternoon.  So if I die, this is why.