They're Here Another Month? OK

Just checked the calendar which hangs in the kitchen.  My parents tell me to use it to let them know when I'm not eating dinner during the workweek or having lunch on the weekends.

Well, local alumni are reviving the annual playdate for incoming freshmen from the area, and that is taking place next month.  I have no idea when my parents are flying back to Las Vegas, so I was going to mark the date of the party, which is a month in advance, just in case.  (I was going to tell them at dinner last/Thursday evening [and act as if I learned about the date Wednesday evening, when I told them I was meeting these people, when I was instead going to the MNUFC Match against Kaiserslautern], but I got home so late and they decided to eat early enough that I missed talking to them.)  I flip the calendar to July and see that one of my parents penciled in something, probably a doctor's appointment, a few days before my event.

That means that they're going to be here for at least another month.  I don't mind it -- sometimes.  Yeah, sometimes I wish I had the house to myself.  Regardless, I just want some clarity.  And I have that, at least for another month.

Two Beers Hit Different

So because of a lightning delay at Halftime of the Minnesota United Friendly against FC Kaiserslautern, we had a delay of about 53 Minutes before they finally started the Second Half.  So we all had a whale of a time getting to the concourse, walk through without getting trampled, seeing drunk FCK (and yeah, whenever I look at it I want to mentally insert a "U") fans who traveled all the way from southeast Germany chant and wave their shirts over their heads (one guy had FCK tattoos all over his torso, like a German white supremac ... oh, wait [j/k!]), and try (and fail) to get into a merchandise shop.

But then I remembered that I want to try a long-time local beer that, unbeknownst to me until recently (via this article from City Pages progeny Racket), has a huge following.  It's called Castle Cream Ale, and it's by Castle Danger Brewery in Two Harbors, Minn.  Once I saw a couple Matches ago that at least one kiosk at Allianz Field served Castle Cream Ale, I vowed to finally try it.  Well, waiting out a rain delay was the perfect time.

Not bad.  It's supposed to be creamy and malty, and it was, and while it wasn't as inoffensive as a mass-market beer, it went down easy.  Unfortunately, I also had a Loon Juice at the start of the Match (I usually get a Loon Juice there because I love my ciders), and even though I drank the cream ale no problem, I'm feeling it now with a headache and a general disorientation.  I'm still glad I tried it, but two beers has me going a certain way, and I don't necessarily like it.

I Don't Rip Off Stickers

Oh yeah ... I ripped off the EnergyGuide label off my TV on, I believe, Memorial Night.

I've had the TV for, oh, a decade now.  At least?  Maybe?

The sticker was, uh, stuck on the right side of the TV screen, the upper side.  And it took me a while (I don't remember how long, and I guess I don't want to remember) to see that some if not most of the sticker was covering up a portion of the screen.  Most of the time it didn't bother me, but sometimes there would be a graphic that shows up on that corner of the screen that I can tell is covered up by that label.  Finally, I decided that if I am going to have this TV, and I don't know for how long I am going to have it, I should see, you know, all of the TV.  I wanted to do it around Memorial Weekend.  And, I think during the broadcast of NASCAR's Coca-Cola 600 (pushed back from its traditional Sunday night time slot because of the weather), the holiday marked a good time to finally get up, go over to the television set, and rip off the EnergyGuide.  The set, by the way, uses only four bucks in electricity all year.

I don't rip off stickers, not usually.  What's the harm with keeping them on?  You know those stickers on credit cards, the ones they tell you to remove after you activate them?  I keep them on.  What's the harm?

Some Narcissism Is Healthy

So I got into work yesterday/Monday and got hit with a triple punch of stuff that cheezed me off.  First, I got in (technically) a minute late, a factor mainly because of some rare-for-post-pandemic Monday morning traffic, although I didn't have a good night's rest and was late getting out the door.  I burned my hand getting coffee; that damn vending machine nozzle is still so gunked up the coffee sprays out all askew.

But what really grinded my gears was yet another "this is how you fucked up" e-mail from my boss.  Now, I don't want to say that he's mean.  He wasn't, and I understand he was doing his job.  I guess this is my fault and thus my responsibility to do better.  Still, I don't take criticism well.  There were two things I did wrong.  Without getting into specifics, one was a case where I was too cautious when it turns out I didn't have to.  This particular situation should have raised a red flag under a condition I flat-out don't understand, and I think I need to take this up with my supervisor.  The other one was some out-of-nowhere situation that came to me via e-mail, and it might as well have been in Tagalog.  I know that when I have asked my supe about e-mails that come out of the blue, she has often told me to not worry about.  Well, my boss told me I should have done something about it.  That is new as hell to me, so new that I am liable to do it again.  So he then brought up the catch-all solution, which is basically, "If you see something you don't understand, tell one of us."  OK.  Like I said, I have had success just ignoring something because it didn't feel as though it concerned me, but fine.

My ire was raised because I have been told to worry about something I had no idea I needed to worry.  That unfairness really got to me yesterday morning.  I realized I was spiraling into some bad thoughts that I had to snap myself out of.  Then I remembered that I had a job to do (even though, for the record, I had very little work for a Monday.  I got out of there about a half-hour over shift.  I have never done that before on a Monday).  And then I looked over at my supervisor, who was filling in herself.  She was CC'd on this e-mail, and I thought that if these two matters were important enough, she would reinforce what my boss said.  But no, she was just minding her own business.  And that's when I realized that, well, I didn't have to give a fuck about this e-mail if I didn't want to.  Shit, I could just ignore it if I wanted.  And that's when I calmed down.

I think back at all the times I received e-mails from my boss or, well, lectures from my supervisor about what I did wrong in The Fourth Department.  And it would always get my dander up and bring me down.  Sometimes it would affect me all day.  But going on five years total in this job (and maybe three doing work back there), I haven't been fired yet.  I get into this dark place after receiving criticism where I have the mindset of, "Well, if they think I do a shitty job, then I might as well save me any stress and continue to be shitty at it, and if they fire me, fuck it!"  I continue to think that someone -- maybe my boss, maybe someone above him -- is keeping score of my mistakes, and then one day the accumulation of those fuck-ups will reach a point where my boss will just have to shitcan me.  But that hasn't happened yet.  So why am I sweating this?

And beyond that, just ignoring these communiques as if they never existed may be a form of survival.  I think there is some credence that if you think you won't do a good job, you won't do a good job.  Could the converse be true?  Thinking you will do a good job is a positive mindset, and I think (or at least I believe) that thinking positively will lead to better work, not to mention a better day for you at work.  It is thus tempting, then, to not even think about the negativity brought on by corrective e-mails such as the one I got -- "Nope, my boss didn't send it!  Didn't happen!  It's out of my mind ... what do I do next?"  There is an obliviousness, maybe even an arrogance, to thinking you haven't done anything wrong.  But maybe that's how I should think in order to be both productive and happy.

(By the way, later that morning I realized that my boss is off for most of the week.  Don't have to see him until Friday, and by then, assuming I keep my positive mindset, I would've forgotten about all this.)

That frame of mind might only last until the next e-mail I get from him on how I screwed up, and it might be a mistake he said I've done before.  But I don't think it's productive getting all upset and seething about those criticisms, especially if it doesn't look like I'll lose my job over it.  So why in the hell am I beating myself up?  I think it's healthier for me to act as if I'm doing nothing wrong, like a narcissist!

So Now I'm Taking Lactase Pills

All the times I've felt bloated that had to rush to the toilet a few times a night to evacuate my bowels as if my life depended on it ... I had enough.  It seemed to be acutely bad the last few times I had ice cream.  And I love ice cream, and have forever, even through previous bouts of bad diarrhea.  Maybe I finally paid attention, but over this spring and summer, I had ice cream, and then I needed to eventually crap it out, and then some, and I felt miserable well after.  And it kept happening.  No more.

I tried lactose-free milk, and even though it went down OK, I sometimes feel OK after drinking regular milk too, so I'm not sure if that solved my lactose intolerance for good.  I finally got around to researching lactase enzyme pills, and a couple weeks ago I finally bit the bullet and bought a box for the first time ever.

I have used it several times now, but not yet for ice cream.  I don't remember the first time I used it, but it may have been for the cake Mother made.  I had it Saturday afternoon for a malt from Bebe Zito.  And then yesterday/Sunday afternoon I took one before drinking a shake (but after eating chili) at Potbelly.  No gas or bloating, and no attacks in my gut.  I did have a chocolate-dipped ice cream cone yesterday at DQ after coming home from dropping off my aunts, but I did not take a Lactase beforehand.  I feel OK, and it's been about four hours since I ate it, and I haven't felt bloated or (too) gassy, and I haven't had to run to the pooper, so ... I don't know.  I will say that I don't remember ever needing to crap badly after eating an ice cream cone from Dairy Queen.

At some point I need to commit to the experiment and take a pill before eating ice cream, and from one of the places I remember getting diarrhea from at that.  That's when I'll know if these things work, and whether I truly have found a "cure" for my lactose intolerance.

Don't tell anybody, but I'm supposed to take my aunt and her sister -- which I guess makes her my aunt too -- to the airport today.  I am not supposed to tell my folks.  I can do that.  I hope that it somehow doesn't make it back to them.

The problem is the luggage.  I have not asked how long they'll be gone (my aunt's son, my cousin, will pick them up), but I had to ask how many suitcases they are bringing.  I think it's four, and I think -- I think -- I'll be able to shove them all into my small car.

They offered the use of their car, which is a bit bigger.  I told them that's a problem because I have a barbecue to go to after that.  That's not necessarily true; I plan on having dinner close to the Megamall after this, just in case their flight gets cancelled.  I'm scared that the luggage in fact won't fit.  I'll gladly take their car to "the barbecue," if they're cool with it; I'll just pray the car isn't too tall for me to drive.  I just won't drive their car there and back because, well, I want to eat stuff on my own today.

We'll see.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Timberwolves (Re-Entry!).  All three local teams playing right now had sorry-ass screening Weeks, so partly out of spite and partly because I really can't see any one of them getting the top spot in this Week's WMNSS, I'm going to put the Timberwolves in the top spot just because of their picks from the NBA Draft that happened on Thursday.  Mind you, they didn't do much in the draft.  They only picked in the Second Round, and twice, and they had to trade two Second-Round picks to San Antonio to draft the earlier of those picks, Power Forward Leonard Miller out of the G League (or, as I like to say, the "Gleague"), at #33.  They then took at the pick they had going into Thursday, #53, UCLA Guard Jaylen Clark, who tore his Achilles tendon late in the regular season and probably won't play till the calendar flips.

Two projects, both known for their defensive prowess but have to work on their shooting, now are with the Woofie Dogs.  God knows how or even if they fit in with a squad that's capped and have looming salary questions to deal with the next couple years.  And yet ESPN, the Sporting News and USA Today gave the organization a B for their haul.  I don't even know if they'll make the club ever, but compared to the other three, this is enough for the Timberwolves to be top.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -1).  Sandwiched a third Win over Los Angeles (and by the way, I was wrong about the number of times these two clubs teams will meet.  There will be a fourth matchup later on in the season) with blowout Losses at Las Vegas and home to Connecticut.  I am placing the Jynx above the other two because they are projected to be out of the playoff field and so get a chance to play and win next Year's Draft Lottery, which should be the point of this season.

I guess I should talk about Friday's victory over the Sparks, which I was able to watch on ION/Channel 41.  First of all, with the Bally Sports Regional Sports Network teetering on bankruptcy, I am glad to see sports being televised on free TV again.  And it makes sense; why cut off viewers who can't afford to pay cable?  But about the Game ... well, it was a back-and-forth affair, and in the end, Minnesota managed to make fewer mistakes than L. A.  Still, the same damn things that have sunk Lynx clubs in the past continued in this Game: The propensity to turn the ball over, the inability to close out on wide open Three-Point Attempts, the urge to jack up shots early in the Shot Clock just because they feel they have "momentum."  Napheesa Collier can't clean up all her teammates' shit.

They host Seattle, another once-proud franchise who've fallen on black days, Tuesday, and my friend has a free ticket for me to use.  This is a home-and-home; the return date is Thursday.  They then play at Phoenix Saturday.

#-3: Twins (Last Week: -2).  They still lead the A. L. Central, but it's now only by a Game (over Cleveland), and they've fallen back to exactly .500, courtesy of a 3-4 screening Week.  They started off losing three in a row (including Sunday's defeat to Detroit, giving them a third victory in a four-Game set at Target Field), then won three in a row (salvaging a four-Game series split versus Boston, also at home).  Pablo Lopez continues to make the organization look like suckers for giving him a long-term deal after his hot April.  Jorge Lopez is away from the team dealing with mental issues.  And Byron Buxton aggravated his back during last/Saturday night's defeat in Detroit.  Great.

Oh, by the way, Luiz Arraez is batting over .400.

Rubber match at Comerica, then three at model franchise Atlanta starting tomorrow/Monday before a trio at Baltimore beginning Friday.  This is one of the squad's longest roadtrips of the Year.

#-4: United FC (Re-Entry!).  Only one Match, and it was a 2-all Draw at Salt Lake City, but I saw the Match (on my phone, through Apple TV+), and I saw them blow a 2-0 lead.  Emanuel Reynoso started for the first time all season, and he assisted on the first Goal and scored on the second.  Maybe the Offense isn't the issue anymore.  The Defense, however ... goddamn, they failed again, giving up tallies eleven Minutes apart, the last of which coming in the 98th Minute.  The Defense has been leaky all season, and this is the umpteenth time they have not only coughed up Goals but leads at the death.

Watching the fucking tying Goal made me wonder why in the hell I continue to have season tickets.  I have felt that way on and off ever since I made that initial deposit seven Years ago, but I feel it deeply now.  I mean, what's the point?

They still would have been out of the playoff picture either way, but losing two Points keeps them twelfth in the Western Conference.  They were not this far down the standings in previous seasons when they made the postseason.  These guys are in fucking trouble.

For the first time in 3 1/2 Weeks, they'll be playing a Match at home on Wednesday, a Friendly against 2. Bundesliga Side FC Kaiserslautern.  Maybe they'll win this one.  Maybe then I'll buy a jersey, if they're selling opponent kits at the store!  Then on Saturday they host Portland.

And I fucking did it again.  I was on my computer well before 2 a.m., having plenty of time to do my daily spin on Zynga Poker, and instead I just lolled around.  (Well, actually I blog posted the previous blog post, so I guess it wasn't a total waste, but I could have waited to do that.)  And at, like, 2:02 a.m. I realized I should check if I did my daily spin.  I thought I did, but then it dawned on me that I didn't, and shit, I didn't.  So now I'm back down to Day 1/10%, just because I didn't get around to checking.  Fuck me.

Yes, Death Puts Things In Perspective

I was kind of annoyed at my folks yesterday/Friday.  When I went to work I told them I would call them as to when I'll be home.  I thought it would be closer to eight hours because Fridays are usually OK at The Fourth Department, where I had been all week (and will be next week until next Friday).  I was wrong; I never have had as many forms to deal with on a Friday as I did yesterday.  Combine that with a couple mistakes for which I needed to retrace my steps and do over, and I got out around 6:15, which is totally not what I expected.

Around 4 I called them.  I was going to tell them not to wait up; eat dinner, and leave something for me.  But Father said, "Call me when you're done with work."  "But I don't know when that will be," I said.  "Just call me when you're done with work," Father replied, and that was annoying because I hate for them to just stick around and wait for me to come home to eat even though they eat dinner around, like, 4:30, like a bunch of seniors.  But I called when I was done with work and, as I was trundling up the stairs, Father was laying on the couch, waiting for me.  Scared the hell out of me; he's like a lazy ninja.  But he cooked me up fish and spaghetti with modified seafood pasta sauce at a bit past 7, a time where I think he would be slumped in his bed, watching TV.

Times like this make me wish I didn't burden them with waiting around for me to come home from work.  I had said that if work is pushing me past their dinner time, I'll just go out to eat.  They seem to insist they don't mind waiting around.  And ... well, I think I will go out to eat next Friday and lie by telling them I'm seeing a friend (yeah, in my last blog post I came down hard on myself for eating out so much, but I really want to eat something I want to eat), but I think it's a nice gesture.  And upon the death of Grandmother's best friend, I don't mind it.

I understand that death is inevitable.  But hearing of her passing just reminds me of it, and it's been hard not to think of it this week.  I am going to lose my loved ones, and since they're getting old, it may be soon.  When thinking about that, all the arguments I've had with my parents, all the differences I still have with them, all the weird food they make me eat, they really do all seem to fall away because the only thing that matters is that we love each other, and we help each other whenever and however we can.  Because one day ... they'll be gone.  And I still don't know what the hell I will do when that time comes.

So yeah, I might skip out on dinner on Friday.  (Actually, come to think of it, I have Games to go to Tuesday and Wednesday, and I don't know if I'll have time to come back home before going out again.  Maybe I shouldn't.)  But I finally am starting to accept the idea (now that I'm in my forties) that they do things I find annoying not out of obligation, but out of true and genuine love.  Maybe I should be more open to that.

No More Fast Food, And No More OnlyFans (Cross Fingers)

I went to the gas station to get some money from the ATM -- and, as long as I was there, coffee and breakfast to eat.  So I go up to the ATM and pull out money that eventually is going to ********a later that night for a massage.  And I see that my balance has dipped to ... well, let's just say the amount is enough to make my heart skip a beat.

I'm pretty sure today/Friday is Pay Day.  Still, that won't make up for all the money I have spent.  I'm pretty sure more money has gone out than has come in since vaccines started to become available.  I don't know if a rebound from the pandemic has encouraged me to spend more money than I would have if COVID-19 didn't exist at all.  Yeah, come to think of it, I'd still be spending money like no one's business, pandemic or no.

Like I think I've said here before, there are two big reasons money flows through my hands: Food and porn.  I don't know if I can stem my fast food fixation and eating out, but after I spent $38 at Hooters watching and not listening to the NBA Draft, I think I can do better.  I think I can tough out just having coffee at work two days a week.  On the porn side, I don't do much stripclubbin' anymore, and while every sexual tryst makes a huge dent in the wallet, I haven't been doing a whole lot of that lately (last/Thursday night's massage notwithstanding).  Buying porn on OnlyFans, in fact, has made up for that, and I think and some.  Gotta put a stop to that.

I remember when I was a temp working at the old Best Buy Headquarters.  I was getting money out of an ATM on the campus, and my ATM card got rejected.  I was at my desk when I somehow determined I had only, like, a hundred bucks left.  Maybe it was a thousand, I don't know, but I spent a good hour at work calling the bank to make sure that wasn't a huge error.  Finding out I don't have as much money as I think I should have is a borderline traumatizing experience for me, and I often turn into an ascetic, go home and not spend money in light of those experiences.  Honestly, my heart ran cold when I saw my remaining balance at the gas station yesterday morning.  Those are times when I usually resolve to lock myself down, regain some self-discipline, and effort to grow that account again.

Will I this time?  Can I moderate my passion for food and dining out, and control my sexual urges?  Well, if not, it might take a smaller back account to provide the jolt I need to change.

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: May 2023

It may be because I had to stash the calendar in my drawer after my parents came home, but now that I've taken some looks -- and, to be honest, masturbated to this month already -- I find this month to be quite lacking.  I have a clear #1, and I think she stands up with many other month's #1, but the depth behind her is quite shallow.  No disrespect meant to the 13 babes who dot May '23, but this is close to January '23 as very, very forgettable.

Nonetheless, I can point out five that deserve praise.  In ascending order:

Fifth is Deeanna, of Hermitage, Tenn.  Total babe; long, dark blond hair, a red two-piece bikini, good-sized boobs and her arms frame them in a way that pumps up her cleavage.  But I have to say two things.  One, I'm more entranced by the lakeside background in her photo than anything else.  Two, she is posing as if she is climbing onto a rock, and so the bottom half of her body is enmeshed in shadow.  I assume she's got a gorgeous body, but I can't see it.

Fourth is Lilyan, from Fayetteville, N. C.  Long blonde hair; two-piece that is pink and bordered in lime green, it looks like.  No shadows here, although she's posing in three-quarters profile, which I don't like.  What I do like is the lakeside background in this shot.  There are pine trees in the way back.  Is she in a bikini in a national park?  Kewl!

Third is Myka, hailing from Addison, Tex.  She has jet black hair, and she wears a one-bikini (it's blue) that shows off nearly all of her stomach, know what I mean?  But what really sets her off is her porcelain skin.  I mean she's a ghost.  Maybe that's why I didn't look at her photo when I jerked off to the month.  But I should reconsider; such a rare beauty deserves to have some recognition and respect.

Second is Tampa's Cameron.  Long, blonde hair, black two-piece.  One of the few waitresses this month posing directly at the camera, which is a good thing.  She is also tugging down the string between the two triangles covering up her tits -- you know, like she's about to take it off.  I'm a sucker for that.

And finally, in first place is Amber, out of Kissimmee, Fla.  Long, light brunette hair, light blue (maybe eggshell?) two-piece bikini.  She's got a thin, lithe frame and the warmest half-smile you'll ever see, if that makes sense.  Best of all, she's got soft skin -- not necessarily pale, but it is quite white, and maybe it's the lighting, but there's an inviting ... uh, I'll say glow about her skin that is very pleasing to look at.  Arousing, even.

So congratulations to Amber, and to the other four I've singled out.  And you know, even though I find this month underwhelming, maybe I'll get around to giving a second wank to all of them.  It's possible I could change my tune!

Strange Food

So Mother spent most of yesterday/Tuesday making something.  I got out of work early enough (thank you, Juneteenth!) to justify eating dinner at home, and I was exiled into eating at the kitchen counter.

Turns out she was making ... man, I don't know what you call it, but it's, I think, steamed rice along with a bunch of other Chinese foods I don't understand and probably don't like all wrapped in a, uh, green leaf.  I know this food is quite familiar with a bunch of people I know, but I have no idea what it's called.  And I'm not much of a fan of it, either.

I see one sitting out on the table right now.  Father probably is going to pack it up for me to eat at work.  Probably will ... after I punch out, I'll need to sit down, heat it up, unwrap the sticky, gangly thing, and use a fork to dig out bite after bland bite.  So yeah, I'm not a fan of the taste nor of the work I need to put into eating it, and yes, I'm being a bit of a jerk because Mother has to put a lot of work into making it.  (I saw these leaf wraps in a pool of water in the laundry room Monday night.  "Hmmm, what are those for?" I remember asking myself.  I didn't put two and two together.)

That's all I got.

Missing Late Night

The strike by the Writers Guild of America (WGA) starting around May 2, so it's currently about six weeks old.  The broadcast season (I have one streaming service, but I usually don't watch shows on it, only sports) was able to wind down without incident because all the episodes for all the shows I watch were, obviously, in the can for May Sweeps.  And since I usually watch sports, of course they're not affected by the writers strike.  With the NBA and Stanley Cup Finals now all done, well, there really isn't much for me to watch on anything resembling television (and I didn't really care about the Stanley Cup Finals this Year because fuck them both).  Sure, there's baseball and soccer and the Men's College World Series, but the summer is a relative dead period for sports.

As such, there isn't a whole lot of reason for me to watch TV this time of year, so in that case, the writers strike isn't affecting me much.  What is on television right now also has been fully produced and cut, so the strike isn't affecting what I want to watch on TV right now, which is, well, nothing.  People in the know speculate that the studios, whom the writers are demanding pay them more, won't go back to the negotiating table until they begin running out of content.  The thinking is that they run out, at a minimum, 90 days into the strike, which is about how long the last WGA strike, stretching from the end of 2007 into the early part of 2008, lasted.

That's a hell of a long time, but like I said, at least it's happening in the summer, when there isn't much scripted television I would want to watch anyway.  With one notable exception: Late-night TV.  I love watching Colbert and Kimmel and, well, Corden until he ended the show in April (and I don't think anyone's saying this, but I think he ended The Late Late Show then because he anticipated the writers strike).  It is scripted, but the writers on the shows have to come up with something new four days a week.  Add in interviews with people who entertain or inform me, and it's a great way for me to spend my night.

I miss it, and even moreso now that the WGA strike has lasted this long.  It is, in fact, very strange to not have seen any new late-night shows for so long.  They're topical, and a lot of stuff has happened and is happening.  The writers of these shows would be riffing on them like nobody's business.  I mean, come on, they would have had a field day regarding the indictment of Donald Trump.  And I would have tuned in.  But I'm not.  (Aside: What are the talk show hosts doing?  And how are they feeling?  They must feel totally isolated because they're not riffing on the news, and haven't for the past month and a half.)

That means that, starting around now, with the exception of the news, I don't think our TV sets are going to have much of a workout.  There have been a couple reality shows I have wanted to try out, but since I seldom turn it on much now, I usually forget.  I might remember if I could rely on new, fresh content on after the late local news.  But since there isn't, I probably won't remember.  And sadly, there might not be fresh content for some time.  And so this feeling of disconnection from both entertainment and the pulse of the news will, I'm afraid, continue.

Poor Bastards Of The Moment (Or At Least From Last Monday): The University Of Texas Baseball Team

I need to get my mind off the death of Grandmother's friend, so I'm doing this quick one.  And by the by, I haven't done a Poor Bastard Of The Moment in months, of not years, but I need to do it for the Texas baseball team.

Last Monday was Game 3 of the Super Regional between the Longhorns and host Stanford.  The series was tied at 1, so the winner of this Game goes onto the venerated Men's College World Series, which began on Friday.

Bottom of the Ninth, Game tied.  The Texas Pitcher induces the Stanford batter into a pop fly.  Harmless ball that will be caught, sending this thriller into extra Innings.

Well, that is what should have happened:

And I don't even like Texas!  Or Stanford for that matter.  But The Farm won and the 'Horns lost.  And by the way, Stanford got eliminated by Tennessee in the MCWS this/Monday afternoon.

Look, I couldn't catch a fly ball if there was a blinking strobe light and an ear-splitting beeper on it.  But I don't have to be good at baseball to know that that Right Fielder, whose name I should look up but won't because I don't want to pile on, should have gotten it, twilight be damned.  Nevertheless, that young man probably is still sick that he lost that ball in the lights.

So, clear your throats: Poor bastards.

So what I was afraid would happen did happen: Grandmother's friend died.  The receptionist said it was about a month ago, so assuming she was right, I saw her shortly before she passed, thank Buddha.

And I'm glad I did my usual stop for a drink of water and a shot of hand sanitizer before I went up.  That's when the receptionist, who dutifully jotted down my information, took a look at her roster of residents and didn't see Grandmother's friend.  She stopped me and called someone who confirmed she had died.  If I had just bolted up to the third floor and her room, I would have either been stopped by one of the orderlies who would break the news to me or stepped into her room and not see her.  None of these options are good; I knew that the only way I would know she passed is by a stranger telling me she died when I drove down to her nursing home and thought/hoped I could see her.  But it's probably better not to go up there when there was no reason to.

I'm still numb, and I don't know how to process this.  But looking back on the last time I saw her last month (with help from the blog post I wrote about her), I think I now know why she held onto my hand for so long.  And knowing she died about a month later, I hope she didn't feel as though I was abandoning her.

RIP.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

I should preface this by saying that instead of rejoicing the summer when there are only three teams in the WMNSS I have to follow, when it comes to International Breaks for MNUFC, such as this Week, there are only two teams I need to follow, and those screening Weeks are even better!

#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  We've got a lead change this Week!  Still don't believe they will make the postseason (and they shouldn't), and being 3-7 still puts them in the lottery.  But after starting 0-6, they have won three-of-four, and they won both their Games this screening Week, which also happens to be a sweep of a home-and-home with Los Angeles.  Won at Target Center by five Sunday, then went out to The Crypt Friday and also won by five out there in a Game broadcast on ION (ion?  Ion?  I don't know how that name is supposed to be stylized).

Watching the tilt, which was at least a tight back-and-forth affair, the same weaknesses that have plagued this team in seasons past continue to so far this Year: Turnovers, bad-as-hell three-point Defense, and a tendency to rush into shots off an unearned sense of momentum (i.e. they jack up a three in transition off a Steal).  Thank God for Napheesa Collier, who probably should be considered one of The Ten-Best Players In The WNBA; she helped sparked the Lynx to a 24-14 Third Quarter to turn a nine-Point Halftime deficit into a one-Point lead, and then helped cobble together enough Points (she played all but two Minutes) down the stretch to hold off a similarly-flawed Sparks club.

Like I said, I'm glad they're playing better, but I still don't want them making the postseason.  Even with a rich draft coming up, I want them playing the lottery.  They're in Las Vegas to play The Bastard Utah Starzz/San Antonio Silver Stars tonight/Sunday night, then go back out to L. A. to play the Sparks again (they play Los Angeles three times this season, and they're going to play those three contests in a span of nine Days.  Really?).  They then return home to play The Bastard Orlando Miracle.

#-2: Twins (Last Week: -1).  Man, these Twins are living a charmed life.  They had a 3-3 Week, missing out on a sweep in Toronto, taking both of the annual mid-week two-fer visit by The Bastard Seattle Pilots, then losing the first two Games of a four-Game series against Detroit, of all (bad) teams at Target Field before winning 2-0 yesterday/Saturday afternoon.  And despite that mediocre Week, and despite Byron Buxton and Carlos Correa still not getting on track, and despite a Bullpen that continues to leak and wheeze its way through the back Innings of Games, and despite a Rotation that's starting to ache, they are still the only team in the American League Central with a non-losing record, and they still lead the Division by a not-narrow number of Games (as of press time it's 3 1/2 over Cleveland).  What a country!  (Is Yakov Smirnov still alive?  Just looked at his Wiki: Not only is he still alive, not only is he still performing in his theater in Brandon, Miss. [and that he has a theater there blows my mind], but he got his Master's in psychology from Penn in 2006 and a Doctorate in psychology and global leadership from Pepperdine in 2019.  That comedian is now a doctor?!  What a country!  And my Buddha, I have just fallen into a weird rabbit hole.)

One more vs. Detroit, then four at home versus Boston starting tomorrow/Monday night before returning the favor with the Tigers in Detroit for a trio beginning Friday.

Addendum To: I Don't Wanna Be Promoted!

So my supervisor was out in My Main Department yesterday.  Shocked the heck out of me.  I was walking in her direction (the supervisor out in My Main Department has a desk) and another of my co-workers was standing up in such a way that blocked her from me.  That co-worker moved and she appeared, sitting in this desk, as if an apparition.

After I passed her, I looked back.  She said she now works specifically in that department two days a week.

She complained that she was being asked to do two jobs without a comparable bump in pay.  Is this the compromise?  If so, is that what she wants ... or is tolerating, for now?

I told her we'll talk.  I assume we will because it looks as though she isn't going anywhere for the time being.  Just a bit surprised that an outcome I was led to believe she would refuse to allow is happening, even in this hybrid form.

The Fuckin' Twitter Troll

You can't really believe what you see on social media.  I got that reminder earlier this week when I got into a spat with this ... well, honestly, I don't know who this person is.  It was about, of all things, The Hartford Whalers.  I was arguing somewhere on Twitter (I don't remember) that the hockey team down in Raleigh is performing a less-important version of cultural appropriation with taking Hartford's history and logo and colors and the use of "Brass Bonanza" and all that.  So she (and apparently this person identifies as a female) questioned what I meant by that.

This is where I looked up her bio.  Apparently she is a lawyer and an advocate for LGBTQ and disabled rights.  She sounds cool, we just might have a slight disagreement on relocating teams.  So I tweeted back that I didn't understand how she didn't understand how the concept of appropriation applied in this case.  And then I went to work.

I didn't think much of it, or her.  But while I was checking Twitter during my break she insulted me.  I waited until I got home because I had other, more important things to do, and then I answered.  How, it doesn't matter; I don't remember because it's been several days.  But as soon as I replied to her, she, or "she," replied back, manifold, and not with cogent arguments but with insults.  I don't want to repeat those here either because that would be validating her bullshit, so I won't.  I will say that once I got home and decided to respond to her, this person responded almost immediately.  It was as if  she was just waiting for me to respond to her, putting marks on her phone because she was clutching it so damn tight.  Or, she isn't a "she" and this person is just some troll who was trying to get me going.

You see, this person, whoever she/he/they/it was, didn't really present an argument.  This person just kept insulting me.  I don't think this person cared about franchise relocation, or cultural appropriation.  I don't know this person even knows those concepts.  "She" just kept lashing out with bullshit without trying to counter my argument on the three lines of arguments "she" started almost immediately after I carefully and logically stated my viewpoint on those three lines.

At some point I had to take a step back.  Why in the fuck am I letting this person get to me?  I'm not going to change her/his/their/its mind.  I'm not even sure this person's gender.  All the stuff about her championing LGBTQ and disabled rights?  It all could be fucking bullshit.  Goddamn, this could be an Artificial Intelligence chatbot for all I know!  This ... thing had nothing to come back to me on about the topic "she" initially tried to come at me about, and then "she" showed no continuing interest in telling me how I was wrong about Hartford hockey.

But she, or "she," kept spewing her bullshit.  And after two days of going nowhere, I had to come to the conclusion that this ... being was just being a fuckin' troll.  And I said goodbye and blocked the account.  I try to keep faith in mankind, and I was hoping I could engage in some grown-up conversation in the hopes I could convince someone of the error in her/his/their/its ways.  But ... nah.

Frankly, I'm worried that whoever this person is is going to find this blog post and stalk me with more insults.  If how I am describing the nature of this Twitter spat seems vague and cryptic to you, that's why.  I'm scared that whoever or whatever this person or thing is won't stop.

Addendum To: Bad Air: Our New Normal

Air was better yesterday/Thursday.  A lot better, in fact.  If you're a part of sensitive group, such as the elderly or children or those with respiratory issues, the air wasn't good enough where you could just roam and run wild and free outside, but if you are healthy, it was fine.

Anyway, two things I want to button up from my previous blog post.  Firstly, we still have an Air Quality Warning, but it's supposed to expire at 6 this morning, so even though I tossed off my thought that what began as an eight-hour Warning became a 48-hour one, it technically is a 42-hour one.  Secondly, I do have confirmation (at least through Twitter) that Wednesday indeed had the worst air the Twin Cities has ever record on record.  When you average out what I'm guessing are hourly readings from stations across the Minneapolis/St. Paul, Wednesday's 175 is a metropolitan area record.  The hourly average record, apparently, is still 308, set in the city of St. Michael in July 2021.

Just setting the record straight.

Bad Air: Our New Normal

The air is bad up here, y'all.  Truly it is.  It started yesterday/Wednesday afternoon, just like the forecasters said it would.  I usually go out to my car to take a nap, and when I stepped outside, the sky looked apocalyptic -- haze everywhere, so much so that you know that the sunlight is giving the haze its brightness even though you can't see the sun.  I couldn't sleep.  I tried to sleep with my mask on because I couldn't stand the thought of breathing that air without some sort of filter (even if a surgical mask provides none), but I think I am such a hypochondriac that even that didn't ease my mind.

I want to say that this is the worst its been up here.  But then I remember the evening of the 2021 NBA Draft, where, as I blog posted, the air was so damn bad that I felt like passing out driving home.  It may not be all-time worst right now, but it's up there.

Yesterday afternoon and evening we had the worst air in the continental United States.  I think we hit the worst category, "hazardous," where no one should be out.  This probably partial list of events in the Twin Cities that were cancelled due to the bad air might prove some of us took this warning seriously.  Unfortunately, it's going to still be bad (though it may not be as bad) today/Thursday.  The meteorologists say the winds should finally kick out this bad air tomorrow/Friday, but on Tuesday night they said the Air Quality Warning was going to go only from noon until 8 yesterday/Wednesday in the Minneapolis/St. Paul, and now they've extended it all the way to tomorrow/Friday.  I'm not going to yell at the weatherpeople; circumstances change, and as they change, they need to inform us.  But it seems as if unlike, say, Winter Storm Warnings, the issuance and extension of Air Quality Warnings come abruptly.  In a day, what was supposed to be an eight-hour Air Quality Warning became a 48-hour one.  That probably is the nature of the beast, and maybe the meteorologists should acknowledge that capricious winds prevent longer-term accuracy of when Air Quality Warnings will end.

That time where I almost passed out driving because of the awful air was two years ago.  I know that I complained about the bad air in summers before 2021.  What's going on right now is further proof that this is, sadly, Our New Normal.  We will have to deal with toxic, harmful air every summer here for the rest of our lives.  I don't think I'm being hyperbolic when I say that.  I'm just glad that I have bought masks and am used to wearing them -- because of the pandemic, where people said staving off a millions-killing virus is Our New Normal.

The End Of Civilization is dawning, I just know it.

My Phone Has Been Acting Funny

Have I blog posted about this before?  Hopefully not.  OK, my phone has been acting funny.

I think it all started on the family vacation.  I tried to recharge my phone, and it wouldn't.  I would have to wiggle the plug in the socket until the screen said it was charging, and even then, it would stop charging.

I had thought for some time that it was the plug's fault, like I squished it in all the luggage I packed on my vacation.  But I have plugged my phone to other things -- for example, my computer when I need to upload photos onto my laptop -- and my phone wouldn't connect there.  The commonality in both cases is the charging port, the hole at the bottom of my iPhone.  So I have begun to clean it, or at least try to.  I've used the tricks people on the Internet recommend, such as an air can and a toothpick.  Still, no dice.  I tried plugging my phone (with a dongle of course) to my lap, and I don't think iTunes saw it.

My iPhone's getting slower and buggier, too.  Lately it's been taking a long time when I turn off my data plan at work.  Turning it on is fine.  But when I go to Settings to turn it off, it freezes.  I've had to close it and then open it again for me to thumb the slide to close, although now I have to wait a few seconds, as if the microprocessor is a beat slow.  However, I have also faced instances where I'm whipping through screens in Settings and, all of a sudden, I see just a black (well, maybe gray) screen (I'm in Dark Mode) and the word "Settings."  It's like the Black Screen Of Death in that I can't move back or forward, just close out and hope that I can get back into Settings again.  Which I can, but you know, an iPhone isn't supposed to work like that.

It's an Apple XR, so even though it's only a few years old, it's starting its almost-prescribed descent into obsolescence, I think.  I should try and clean the port better, and maybe I can close some Safari tabs and programs more often.  Maybe that'll boost the performance of my cellphone.  Or, I need to start thinking about getting a new cellphone.

I Don't Wanna Be Promoted!

These days, Mondays at work are the worst.  I have to catch up on all the stuff that accumulated over the weekend, so it usually is the day where I have to stay at work the longest.  (For the record, yesterday/Monday was actually good; I got out before 6.  I give myself until 6:30 before I have to leave because I sure as hell ain't gonna stay at work for ten damn hours.)  Add that it's, well, Monday, and usually I get to work that day cranky knowing that I'll be there a long time, and that makes me crankier.

So that means that there's a bunch of stuff I just have to gird myself for and grit myself through the day.  But there was nothing like early yesterday/Monday morning.  My supervisor, who was filling in for someone who, it turns out, had emergency surgery (long story), out of the blue said she might be leaving her job.  Why?  Because she's been asked to fill another position that's been unfilled for many months now.  She doesn't want to be in two places at once, and she says the bump in pay isn't worth the added responsibilities and stress.  But it looks as though the main reason she doesn't want fold this second job into her first job is that she will be under the direction of someone she hates, who just happens to be my boss.  (Well, it's my co-boss, not my really boss ... it's a story too long for a blog post).  She has had run-ins before, and she wants to stay the hell away from her as much as possible, and that means she will not take a job that puts her under her in the organization chart.

She has a meeting with her boss, who also happens to be my boss, today/Tuesday.  I don't know how that is going to go.  But if it doesn't go to her liking, she said, yesterday/Monday morning, she will leave.  I would really miss her.  She's the supervisor who points out when I do stuff wrong.  I hate it, but eventually I do it her way because I respect that she cares about the work at our company, and someone has to have some fidelity to the job.  Plus, she's been there a hell of a long time.  If she walks out the door, a lot of institutional knowledge walks out the door with her.  We as a department would be lost.

And then, half-jokingly but half-not, says, "Would you be interested in training?"  No, I said.  And then she points out that if she leaves, the person most tenured and best suited to replace her as supervisor would be ... me.  Oh, hell no!  I continue to be befuddled by a lot of the stuff I have to do, in all four departments I have to work in.  If I have to consult the training manual to figure out how to do something, I have no business being a supervisor.  Plus, all the crap that my current supervisor has to put up with and might have to put with I'll have to put up with, and I don't want to put up with any of that -- the training, the potential jockeying back and forth between departments all day, and, yes, dealing with my current co-boss, someone I like and get along with, but someone I fear I will immediately chafe under if I officially have to work for her.  My supervisor detailed a story where my co-boss got bent out of shape with her for not keying for over two minutes.  I didn't know bosses have surveillance software looking over our work output.

If there is no supervisor, there are just workers and bosses and no one inbetween.  And as much as I think our department, if not our company, would suffer, I sure as hell don't want to be promoted into that job because that will be a big step backward in terms of my work-life balance and my well-being.  Hell, if I get pressured into that job, I might quit, too.  I should freshen up my resume.

I'm Having Trouble Peeing

So I was at this bar that was willing to bring up the Serie A Play-Out Match (surprised, by the way, that 1] Verona beat Spezia and 2] four Goals were scored when I thought it would be two max; thank goodness I wasn't able to bet on what I read online!).  At Halftime I went to the bathroom.  I stood at the urinal and tried to pee and ... well, I eventually did it, but the stream started like a leaky faucet, drip-drip-drip, before my urethra got into gear and started emptying my bladder.

I give that gross and graphic description because this has happened several times lately, the trouble peeing stuff.  This might be a product of old age, but this doesn't sit well with me.  I'll note that here and, if this persists, this will be something to talk about with my doctor come my annual check-up.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  A sign of how sorry-ass (and I think I will be using that adjective a lot when I talk about the Twinks) the American League Central Division is: They went 2-4 this screening Week, including a three-Game sweep in Tampa by the Bay Rays, and they're still leading, and stubbornly by 2 1/2 Games, which seems to be the same-sized lead they've had all season (although this time Cleveland is in second place; longtime second-placers Detroit has thudded into fourth because they've lost nine-of-ten).  And in a sign of how sorry-ass the Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey may be until at least mid-August, when the Gopher women's soccer team begins its season, such a performance this Week still clearly keeps the Nine in the top spot of the survey for yet another Week.  Oy-oy-oy.

This/Sunday afternoon they will attempt to complete the sweep in Toronto.  They come home to have what appears to be their annual mid-week two-Game set against The Bastard Seattle Pilots.  Then on Thursday, they begin a four-Game series vs. the Tigers.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  So because I got in on the ground floor of investing in the Aurora, the semi-pro women's soccer team (which went undefeated until they lost in the title Game at home, boooooo), I got an in: A free (well, I had to pay a buck for an administrative fee) ticket to both Friday's Game versus Indiana or tonight's/Sunday night's matchup against Los Angeles.  Planned on staying in on Friday, but I can't pass up free (well, $1) tickets, and Sunday I will be out till the late afternoon watching the Serie A Play-Out Match, so it was better for me to go to Friday's Game.

Didn't know that this weekend there would be special ceremonies commemorating the team.  Tonight's/Sunday night's contest will feature the retirement of Sylvia Fowles's number, #34.  On Friday, the franchise announced The 25 Best Lynx Players In History, as part of their 25th anniversary celebration (man, they've been around that long already?!).  It's a grand sight to see a team grow enough long, strong roots for more than one generation of fans to see their favorite team stop and smell the roses.  And while I think the players on the lower end of the 25 were in Minnesota only for a cup of coffee (and several of the 25 didn't make it), the Lynx have been around long enough whereby some young fans probably went, "Uh, who's that girl?"  Anyway, I assume they counted up from 25, and #1, rightfully, is Seimone Augustus.  It's a hell of thing to be considered The Best Player In Franchise History when that history extends a quarter-century.  Congrats, Mone.

Oh, the Game.  Both the Jynx and the Fever had won only once.  It was a back-and-forth affair; Minnesota trailed at the half but led after three Quarters.  Unfortunately, they lost, 71-69; a Fever player missed a Free Throw with Seconds left, but the Lynx couldn't secure the Rebound in time, and an outlet pass was broken up by an Indiana player at Half-Court.  I can't quite pinpoint what is ailing this team, or what they can improve on.  But now these two clubs have three Wins between them, so maybe figuring out what specifically is wrong would be difficult.

Surprisingly enough, the Jynx aren't the only team in the WNBA with just one victory.  In fact, there are two other squads.  Moreover, those two are in the Western Conference.  Most mind-blowing, they're two teams who have had recent dominating success: Phoenix and Seattle.  With that being said, both the Mercury and Storm are 1-5 and the Jynx are 1-7, so technically, Minnesota is the worst team in the league right now.  Thank goodness, I guess, that Wednesday's contest in New York was postponed because of the apocalyptically bad air in the East Coast.  Otherwise, they might be 1-8.

After tonight's/Sunday night's tilt vs. the Sparks, they'll complete the home-and-home with them Friday in L. A.

#-3: United FC (Last Week: -3).  Got the piss kicked out of them in Montreal, 4-0.  Former Loon Mason Toye, who just got back from injury, braced.  MNUFC is barely clinging to a playoff spot now.

And do you know what Adrian Heath said after the Match?  He thought his team played will inbetween conceding Goals.  Are you fucking kidding me?  How much of a crazy, preposterous statement (I should nominate this for KFAN's PST) is that?  Such a stupid thing to say will only add more fuel to the #HeathOut fire.  Why in the hell would you even say that?

International Break is here, and none too soon.  They visit Salt Lake City on the 24th, and not only should Emanuel Reynoso be back starting, but Bakaye Dibassy might finally be available as well.

Fuck This Rude And Impatient Prick, Part II

OK, so where was I?

Yeah, I wasn't going to be a dick about going to the bathroom.  And, for what it's worth, even though he got there before me, we both got to our destination.

So now, assuming that I take this not as an L but as a W, how do I get back on this fucker?  I literally back up after I pee and make him go around me, that's what?  Yeah, I was peeing like normal, and for some reason I stepped backwards like a weirdo instead of turning around and getting away from the urinal by moving forward and I backed up in front of him.  He moved around me.  A little.  I think.  I'll take that as revenge!!!

I don't know why people like him piss me off.  It's not like I can do anything about it.  But they do piss me off.  Because they are rude and they need to fucking pay.  So I probably will get into trouble trying to "get back at" these people in the future by doing something stupid, but those motherfuckers need to be taught a lesson, or at least be as inconvenienced as other people are when they inconvenience them.  Fuck 'em!

Fuck This Rude And Impatient Prick, Part I

There are just some things, some people, and things people do that piss me off.  Like, so piss me off that I think that people who do those things should die.  People who weave in and out of traffic -- mostly on cars but motorcyclists anger the fuck out of me too -- are one.  People who weave in and out of crowds are another.

I was at a United Match a few weeks ago, and Allianz Field is typically buzzing with people before the Match begins.  I usually hang back and pick my spots -- you know, where there are open pockets in a long train of lines going one way or the other.  No need to be a pushy dick, especially if you can't go anywhere.

But as I was waiting for my moment, this piece of shit comes from behind, darts into a little hole right in front of this couple, and starts slithering through the teeming crowd.  He didn't care about things like manners or space; no, this motherfucker just wanted to get to where he wanted to get to, and he wanted to go there now, goddammit.

And so that fucking red mist just descended in front of my eyes.  It's the same one that convinces me I have to catch up with a fucking driver that cut me off.  And so fuck finding a pocket -- I'll be bumping and pushing people down in order to get to this asshole.

And I kind of did.  Well, sort of.  He weaseled his way to the bathroom, a place I was going to go to, but, you know, I wasn't going to be a dick ...

---

... and hey, I just got back from helping out Mother with something I think was a waste of time, and the mental energy I needed to expend was so depleting that I want to leave right now.  I'll finish this blog post up later.  I think.  Sorry.

Can't Be A Perv To A Stripper Who Jerked Me Off

OK, so she's warned me about this before, and I might have even blog posted about her warning me about it before, who knows.  But I just got yelled at by ... oh, I'm not going to even type her name with asterisks because I'm already in the doghouse with her and if she catches wind of this she'll never masturbate me again.  Anyway, she had on her Facebook a quick video of her and her friend sunning themselves on a beach.  They both were in two-piece bikinis.  This specifically is on Messenger, and so any comment I make will be between her and me.  So I'll just send her a couple eggplant emojis to show my approval.  Right?

WRONG!  She's all, "Don't text me like that!" (I'm paraphrasing because I don't want to get caught), and then I remembered that I thanked her through Messenger after she and ... her unnamed best friend gave me a tandem handjob, and she played dumb.  And the more I think about it, the more I think she said something similar a long time before after another tryst we had.  Anyway, I guess I should have remembered that she doesn't like to talk about it.

But I'll say this: That is fucking weird.  I don't know why she's acting like this.  Does she not want people to know?  I haven't told anyone, and if she feels as though she caught wind from some other guy that we do shit, he doesn't fucking know, because I don't talk to other stripperhounds about the HJs I get.  (She's a churchgoer too, and maybe she's trying to live in this hypocrisy, to which I say, fuck it, do what you want.)  Is she playing dumb?  To who?  And why?  People are slowly getting more receptive to sex work.  And I'd recommend her too, she's that good.  Does she think someone will see her messages?  This is Messenger, for fuck's sake!  I really don't get pretending we didn't do shit.  I don't want to feel ashamed that I got jacked off by her, because she makes me happy, and I want to tell her that she does.  And I get hard whenever I see her in a swimsuit.  That a problem?  She makes money off of her drop-dead gorgeousness.  What's to keep on the down low?  Damn.

I don't know how mad she is.  As of press time we're still Facebook friends.  But if she doesn't think I'm discreet, she can stop inviting me to parties, or just defriend me altogether.  And maybe that's better because I don't see why I she's blowing up over goddamn eggplant emojis, for crissake.

Is It Time To Criticize My Co-Worker?

So I've been, for the past couple months at least, in a routine for my workweek.  The first half I am in The Fourth Department, where I get to sleep in late but have so much shit that comes my way that I usually stay past eight hours and sometimes, like yesterday/Wednesday, need to stay almost all ten.  The back half I am in The Main Department, which, and I maybe could do a blog post about it, is starting to bore me to tears.

I am splitting time in The Fourth Department with the new person.  Actually she's not that new now (and she actually moved here from another department; in fact, I think she's worked there longer than I have), but she is now up to speed back there and so takes the back half of the week.  Wednesdays, BTW, used to be hers back there, but for the time being it'll be mine because she is training in her fourth and final department.  Pretty soon, she'll be full versed in everything, just like me.

She's solid.  Can't say I know her all that well, but she's bright, dedicated, and easy to get along with.  I like her.  I really do!  That being said ... I don't know why, maybe it's because I'm in a mood, or maybe I'm suffering from PTSD after last week's colonoscopy, but I've noticed some things about her that irk me as we pass stuff between us.  They are, in order of most to least annoying:

• There is a function by which we go into a software database we have and record, for each form we come across, the information we need to retrieve and how we are attempting to retrieve it (as in did we e-mail or fax, and who the person we tried to contact is).  Without saying too much (because it's hard to describe and I don't want to bore you with the details), it's easy to not do this job.  In fact, it's easiest to not do it until you get the info you need; then, you can just go to this screen and type up all the information.  But that's not what that's necessarily there for.  You open up this screen/record and it stays "open" because you haven't gotten the information yet.  That's OK; in fact, someone else -- say, for example, the person relieving you in The Fourth Department -- will need to know where we both are in the process of this retrieval if the contact hasn't given us what we want yet.  Without this screen, your work is incomplete.  And yet it looks as though she doesn't do this.  I do, however, and I have make sure that the ones for which the forms aren't complete get this open record up so we all know where in the info-gathering process we are.  And if we don't get the info back I could, well, "dummy" up a screen that I open and then immediately close.  But that's still work, and that's rudimentary work that is so easy the person who initially touched this form should be doing, not me.
• Another problem with passing this job between us (and the more I complain about it here on Wailing And Failing, the more I think I should talk to my supervisor and boss about my complaints) is that when people do e-mail us back with the information we need, he or she may be sending it back to us when we're not in The Fourth Department.  We usually try and make sure a copy of our e-mail CC's our shared department e-mail address, but sometimes the respondent does not hit Reply All.  So, what we are supposed to do is once we see this e-mail, we forward it to our general dept. address.  Unfortunately, some of these are secured messages (I understand the need for them, I still hate them), and so we can't forward them because the other person doesn't (or at least shouldn't) have the password of the other person's account in order to access that secure e-mail.  So what I do is open it up, print it out, go back to The Fourth Department, pick up that physical copy, scan it into my e-mail address, give the physical copy to her so she can staple it to the copy of the form for which it's for (you still with me?) and then tell her I will forward her an image of that same e-mail because we need to put that image in another record-keeping database we maintain.  Well, I don't think she does that, at least on a regular basis.  Instead, she forwards the secure e-mail I can't open, and then e-mails me a copy of the secure e-mail she has opened up.  That's frustrating because I sometimes reply to that first e-mail, and when she tells basically tells me, "Oh, we have the answer here," I've wasted some time and maybe annoyed a person who has to send the same information twice.  What I do is better because I am more thorough about the information I pass along so that nothing has to be repeated.
• When she cleans up the desk before she leaves on the weekend, I believe she spins the mousepad upside-down.  I come in on Monday and I see the pad with the, you know, pad side on top.  It's supposed to be the other way around.  That pad, or bump, is where you rest your wrist so as to prevent carpal tunnel syndrome.  Why in the hell is she spinning around the pad?  Does she not understand what the pad is for?  Does she think carpal tunnel syndrome is a hoax?  Is she anti-carpalite?  And even if she is, she must see other people use an ergonomic mouse pad correctly, right?  So why can't she just leave it the way it should be, with that rest/bump/pad down where the wrist is?  The more I think about it, the more freaked out by it I am.  That's fucking weird!

You know, instead of bitching about this to my blog, maybe I should take it up with her, or our supervisor, or our boss.  That's the mature way of handling things, right?

I made a point of getting on my laptop before 2 a.m. so I could do my daily spin on Zynga Poker and stay on Day 7/400% bonus.  I am fairly sure I was on there by 10:30 p.m., 11:30 at the latest.

I didn't get on to Facebook until just now, around 2:15 a.m., and of course I'm too damn late and have reset myself all the way back down to Day 1/10%.  I kept it up at Day 7/400% for weeks.

Stupid me.  Stupid fucking lazy me.  There were a couple things I needed to do on my computer, sure, but as soon as I turned my lap on, I completely forgot about the one thing I turned it on for.

I feel as though whenever I have time to burn, like the hours before I feel like going to bed, I will not do anything I need to do.  Now, when I have a deadline, or I have this many minutes before I, say, go to work (like I did with the blog post just before this, which I did before work yesterday/Tuesday morning), I'll make sure I do what I set out to do.  If I have all the time in the world, though, boy, any to-do list is neuralized out of my mind.

What the fuck have I been doing the past three fucking hours?

Thirsty AF For Money

So there's one stripper, bless her heart, who continues to both stage and promote house parties.  I won't link back to her because I gotta go, but I have blog posted in the past about going to her parties just to see her, only for her to be gone and having these scary, brokedown strangers sticking around instead.

I used to be upset, but now I don't really care.  Add to it that 1) I work late on Mondays, the day she usually hosts these stripper parties and 2) I am trying to save money, and frankly, seeing her and attempting to get down is no longer a priority.

Still, she texts me to say, "Hey, there's a party this Monday," as there was yesterday.  And I had no intention of going, but I wait until the day of to say, "No, can't, busy with work," or, "Sorry, can't make it."  She at least is good in saying, "That's OK," which sort of makes me feel bad that to give her the impression that I'm trying to make it to her parties.  Well, I would if I ever could see her, but seeing as though I haven't seen her in the flesh since before the pandemic, I no longer hang on to that possibility.

She texted me just now that she's working a strip club south of the Metro tonight.  No way I'm going there because it's too damn far.  Man, she's thirty as fuck for money.  I'll tell her I can't.  I'll make up an excuse.  And I'll tell her that excuse, oh, some time tonight.

Bad Driver: PRG 112

I was just minding my own business going south on East River Road (which I had to take because 94 was closed for the weekend and I wanted to set the "Loti" pencil, a storm-murdered tree that was turned into a very realistic, blown-up-Claes Oldenburg-style pencil on the front lawn of a guy who lives in a tony part of Minneapolis) when this fucker in a black Jeep cuts right in front of me, even though there was no one within a half a mile of us, even though there was no turn he (I'm assuming it's a he) just caught in time.  And I'm even more insulted when he turns on his signal only after his whole ass is in my lane.

I so totally want to report this asshole, but I know this is something that doesn't rise to the level of road rage driving.  But this motherfucker didn't give enough clearance before cutting in front of me; that has to be illegal, right?

Oh, by the way, the occasion (on Saturday, BTW) was that the owner of the house with the tree was "sharpening" the pencil.  He started it last year and apparently he's trying to make it an annual thing.  But there was no real sharpening, dammit.  Someone just put a pointy "tip" on top of the "dull" pencil and acted as though they sharpened it.  They constructed a giant student sharpener -- you know, the rectangular one, usually red, you carried with you if you were Gen X.  They put it on top of the stalk, and two guys circled around it as if to "sharpen" it.  But it was all a lie.  I really thought some guy was going to take a chainsaw and make the top pointy.  That would be cool.  What I saw instead was A LIE!!!

Sorry, Green Insect

A green insect hopped on to me after driving home from DQ (went to the library first to do some stock stuff for my parents -- after stopping by the gas station for a black cherry Pepsi).  Second one that hopped on to me.  Don't know what happened to the first, but I allowed it to stow away as I drove off.

This second one stayed on my finger.  I took a long time to attempt to coax it on to the hood of my car, and then the garbage bin, any place besides me, but no dice.  Finally, I got it to hop on to a leaf.  I thought it was going to be OK, but at first he had trouble getting all its feet on to the leaf; either it was afraid or it got caught on something.

Then, inexplicably, it swung underneath the leaf.  At first I thought it meant to do that, but then I feared that it felt it was too heavy for the leaf it was on and keeled under.  I tried saving it with the temple of my sunglasses, but it didn't take.  Finally, I bent down to look underneath the leaf.  And it wasn't there.

Probably fell to its death.  Tried searching for it on the ground, though, but I couldn't see anything green down there.  No, I didn't look all that hard.  But I still feel bad.  Should have chosen a leaf closer to the ground, or the ground itself.  Or, considering its probably fate, I should've done what most people did and killed it myself.  Don't know how cruel that would be from what probably happened to it

Sorry, green insect.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  My God, the American League Central is a sorry-ass Division.  But the Twins remain the only team who's doing ... oh, a little above average in it.  They remain the only ballclub above .500 there, and they went 4-3 this Week, dropping the rubber Game at home to Toronto (they lost, 3-0, and former Twink Jose Berrios got the Win in front of the squad he wanted to ditch, boo), but turned around and won a three-Game series in Houston.  And they have taken two-of-three in a four-Game set at Target Field vs. The Cleveland Guardians, who remain in third place in the AL Central behind, still, Detroit, who sit 3 1/2 Games behind Minnesota for the lead.

There are players on the team not pulling their weight.  Jorge Lopez continues to pull up the rear in the Bullpen (although he always makes himself available in the locker room for The Media, which is something I admire).  Meanwhile, Aaron Gleeman in The Athletic had a breakdown advocating for the organization to move on from Max Kepler.  The Twins were open to trading him, but no franchise met their asking price, so he is staying in Right Field, where he still has a great arm but (along with Byron Buxton and Carlos Correa) is weighing down the Lineup.  Meanwhile, the way to a permanent spot in the majors is blocked for the next two guys in the pipeline, Trevor Larnach and Matt Wallner, both of whom the squad feel has much better upside.  The entire situation could be alleviated if Kepler agrees to play more in Center, but he has told the team he won't play that position anymore.  Well, frankly, if he doesn't agree to do that, I would just fucking cut him.  The bats on this club could use a shake-up.

After playing the fourth and final showdown in the series against Cleveland, they'll be on the road the rest of the screening Week, with three in St. Petersburg versus The Tampa Bay Rays (The Best Team In Major League Baseball) starting on Tuesday and then three in Toronto beginning Friday.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -3).  Hey, they finally won!  Well, they endured three Losses to begin the Week (to Las Vegas, Dallas and Connecticut) to start the season at 0-6, something the franchise has done only once before.  But in Washington, DC last/Saturday night, they finally got off the schneid by beating the Mystics, 80-78.  And this one was a nail-biter; Minnesota led by ten going into the Fourth Quarter, but the Mystics managed to tie it up late.  But Tiffany Mitchell put back her own miss with three Seconds left in the Game to win it.

Surprisingly, they're not last in the WNBA; that goes to once-proud Seattle, who, without the retired Sue Bird and Breanna Stewart deciding to get hers and super-teaming it in New York, is 0-4.  (I just noticed that the Lynx have played seven Games, more than any other team.  Go figure.)  Still don't think they'll make the playoffs, and I still don't think they should make the playoffs, either.

After a hectic four matchups this past screening Week, this screening Week will be much lighter: At the Liberty Wednesday, home to Aliyah Boston Friday.

#-3: United FC (Last Week: -2).  Gave up a late Game-winning Goal to Austin's Sebastian Driussi to lose on the road Wednesday, 2-1, then came back to score in the 89th last/Saturday night to tie Toronto at Allianz.  But the big story was the return of Emanuel Reynoso.  He was named to the bench versus TFC, and in the 65th Minute, seven Minutes after Lorenzo Insigne scored on a piss-poor giveaway in the offensive half, Adrian Heath broke glass and put in Bebelo.  And in his short time, even though he may probably not be at 100% fitness, he made a difference.  His sending-in caused the chaos that eventually allowed substitute Kervin Arriaga to kick the ball that bumpered around some Toronto defenders and into the net.  It was one of those nights where that was the only way the Loons were going to score.

I do feel better now that Reynoso, whose prolonged absence still hasn't been explained, now seems to have his head back into playing for MNUFC.  But we still have a striker problem.  We still have a motivation problem; the XI didn't seem to play with any urgency and character until they went down a Goal.  They know they can play aggressively from the first whistle, right?  And I don't know how much Reynoso can help on the defensive end; I blame both the Game-winning tally for Austin FC and the sole Goal for Toronto FC on the D.

They have won only twice this Year at home, one of which was in league play.  Conversely, they have won four times on the road.  And they'll be on the road (for MLS action at least) the rest of June; they're in Montreal Saturday.  Hey, maybe they'll win there.

This might be an addendum blog post to the previous two blog posts; that'd be a first.  Anyway, I kind of remembered something during my colonoscopy prep, if I am not mistaken: In all the times I was pissing out of my ass (sorry, I'm using that revolting phrase again) starting on Thursday evening, I don't remember pissing through my, you know, pisshole.  That seems weird.  Shouldn't urine go out through my penis?  If I am right, all my effluvia went out through my butt, and I find that strange.  Can bodily waste be shunted either completely frontwards or completely backwards, like a railroad switch that's in my intestine?  If so, how did my body decide it was all going out through my ass while I was going through my colonoscopy preparation?

You know, I'm not tired, but maybe I should go to bed anyway.

Colonoscopy Thoughts ... If I Can Remember Them

So the colonoscopy went fine.  I received a clean bill of health.  Even got pictures.  Wanna see?

The pictures (and by the way, I appreciate receiving a report after every visit I get a clinic.  I don't read much of what I get after I see my doctor, but in something like this, I like that they're attesting that they found no polyps and there is nothing of concern, and therefore I don't need to get another one of these dastardly things for a decade) are on the grainy side.  I though they'd be more resolute.  Thought they'd be bigger, too.  Frankly, I was thinking that a clean bill of health means that my colon would be, uh, totally a light pink and no bumps and stuff.  I don't think I saw that.  In a couple pictures it looks like there are black spots on my large intestine.  That doesn't look bad.  Maybe it's the photos, which is why I wish they were bigger and better.  But if they say I'm good, well, I'm good, I guess.

I went under.  I asked the doctor just before the scope how unconscious I would be.  He said that I should be awake enough to answer directions.  He also said that if I go out, I am getting more sedative than they intended.  Well, I don't remember anything after he put Vaseline in my asshole.  I could have answered instructions.  Hell, for all I know, he could've told me to sing "Yankee Doodle" and I could've done it.  In other words, if I was awake enough to breathe deep or shift my body, I don't remember.

I don't remember him giving me a post-op debrief, either, even though he was supposed to.  Or maybe he did and I don't remember 'cause I was too groggy.  I remember putting on my underwear after the nurse told me to try and sit up by hanging my legs off the side of my bed.  I don't remember if I still had my gown on, however, because I don't remember taking it off in order to put my clothes on.  Yeah, the more I write about not remembering the operation even though I wasn't supposed to, the more paranoid I am about what I actually did, or what actually happened.

With that being said, I'm home now, safe and, assuming the clean bill of health is correct, healthy enough to not go through that colonoscopy crap again.  I'm catching up on my sleep.  Possibly as much as the number the preparation mixture did on my body and bowels, the disruption to my sleep routine, particularly waking up at 2:45 to drink the second mix before my 6:45 op, is the most onerous part of going through this colonoscopy.  But staying in until lunchtime tomorrow should get me straight, and if it doesn't, I can sleep in Sunday, too.

My God, I've Been Pissing Out Of My Ass

Just got out of the toilet where, for either the fifth or sixth time (lost track) since I began this clear liquid diet and colonoscopy preparation this evening, I have been evacuating my bowels.  I'll be honest: The first four or five times I felt I had my bowels in control because I was shitting and pissing, and that was it.

This last time, however, scares me.  It was like a vicious attack of diarrhea.  I have had that before, and I have spent maybe an hour on the throne where my organs felt like they were being liquidated and then excreted through my rectum.  But now it feels as though it's not going to stop.  I would have an attack, I thought it would be done, and then, "Ope!  It's coming again!"  I actually got dressed once and was about to open the door when I realized I had to go again.

What frustrates me this time around are two things.  First, the bowels have become all liquid.  That's good in the sense that this was expected after I downed all that Bisacodyl and Gatorade; in fact, if I were still pooping poop this late in the day, that would be a big problem.   But "pissing out of my ass," as my brother describes it, isn't a good feeling.  My colon shot out my liquid excrement not straight down but, I think, at an angle, so it started hitting my anus.  I had to clean all over my butt, and I hate that.  I might take a quick bath so I can wash my tushy again.

The other thing that frustrates me?  I have this incessant, primordial fear that I will need to go as Mother takes me to the hospital.  Will I shit myself ... well, piss/shit myself?  Hope to God I don't, but like I said, I don't feel as in control as I did earlier in the evening.

Yeah, I want to get this over with.  This is painful and embarrassing.  And I realize I've been saying "pissing out of my ass" a lot, and I want to stop typing that, let alone doing that.

My Goddamn Meddling Fucking Mother

Mother volunteered to mix the mixture I need to drink today.  I told her she didn't have to, that I could do it.  She told me how much Gatorade I need for my mixture.  I told her wrong.

I was chilling in my bedroom trying to listen to Stephanie Miller.  I was going to show her the instructions as to how much Gatorade I need for this initial mixture.  I was afraid she was going to ignore me, and sure enough, when I went out to the kitchen to show her that, uh, I was wrong, and it's 16 oz. of Gatorade less, I saw her wrapping up these measuring cups.  She did.  She fucking did it.

Yeah, I made a mistake.  But I told her I was going to do it after I check the instructions.  She fucking meddled again.  My Fucking Father does this all the time and now My Fucking Mother does it.  Why can't they meddle on shit I need them for, like money?  I have six hours in which to make up this mixture, and because she "loves" me, she doesn't do what I say?

Oh yeah -- when I told her the mix is wrong, she said that she was right, she knew how much Gatorade to use, but "I don't listen to her."  Get the fuck outta here.  That might be more triggering to me than the fact she did what I asked her not to do.  The projection is such a trigger to me.  Fucking hate it.

I have to tell the nurse about this, as much as to blow off steam as to make sure this isn't a fatal mistake.