I Fake Showers Now

You remember I admitted feeling shame in taking showers every day because My Fucking Father told me to?  Well, fuck that, and I am going to not do it by faking taking a shower.

I started by recognizing that even though I am expected to take a shower every day, I don't have to take a long one, like I usually do.  So, about a few weeks back, I began taking shorter showers -- for real, but sometimes I would only soap up my armpits, genitals and feet (this expert recommends it, for one), and since I only rinsed the rest of my body, I save time that way.  Sometimes I don't wash my hair, and that save a lot of time, too.  And then I decided to cut my wash time even shorter by taking a quick bath -- just soak my feet, then get a washcloth to clean my face, pits, groin and tushy.

Then I realized: Hey, if My Fucking Parents think that I now take quick showers and baths and let me get away with it, why get wet at all?  So I have begun to do what I did last/Friday night: Go into the bathroom, turn on the shower ... and just sit on the toilet and scroll through my phone. Sure, I jostle the shower curtain to splash the water everywhere inside the shower.  I also put the soap dish underneath the shower so that it looks like I used the bar of soap.  But after a few minutes of turning the water on, then turning off the water and waiting a few more minutes (perfect time to just doomscroll), I take off my clothes, wrap the towel around my body, and walk out.  Of course, this won't work if my hair is completely dry and one of my parents is just outside and catches me leaving the bathroom.  Conversely, if neither of them catches me doing this, why go through the theater of leaving the bathroom with just a towel?  Hey, I'll cross that bridge if I get there.  All I know is that, so far, they've gotten off my back with the showering every day bullshit because they think I do.  How little they know!

Well, My Fucking Father changed my bedspread.  He put in a powerstrip at the outlet where I plug in the fan; don't know why he thinks I need that.  And, of course, he rearranged my three pairs of slippers.

Fuck it.  I am going to order the slippers in a neat row, but upside-down.  Let's see if he turns them right-side up.  Let's see if he's OCD enough to invade my bedroom again.  Let's see if he really, really doesn't have a goddamn hobby.

Don't Send A Man To Do A Woman's Job

Got home from last night's U. S. Open Cup Semifinal, where the Loons gave up the goddamn motherfucking Game-winning Goal to Austin in the goddamn motherfucking final Minute in Extra Time.  They had home-pitch advantage through the Final two Weeks from now, but like every goddamn motherfucking Minnesota sports team, they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.  Oh, and the Twinks got beat by the Yankees.  Again.

This was about to be a horrific local sports night, compounded when I heard on the radio on my way home that the Lynx were trailing after three Quarters by 14 Points at Golden State.  But imagine my surprise when, before I hit the shower, I checked my phone again and saw that the Lynx beat the Valkyries, 75-74!!!  I was about get real down on them, but shit, those women don't get rattled a lot!  Maybe they will win it all after all.  They're the only team to have swept their First Round series; every other series is going the maximum three Games, being played either tonight or tomorrow night.  The rest the Lynx get, and that their upcoming opponent won't get, should play a big factor in the Semifinal.

And once again, the Lynx act like queens while the male sports teams in town act like a bunch of fuckin' chumps.  Never, ever send a man to do a woman's job.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  It's interesting when a team plays another team back-to-back when it's the last Game of the regular season and the first Game of the playoffs.  That's the case with the Lynx and The Golden State Valkyries.  The Lynx crushed the Valks at Target Center by 19 Thursday to ensure G State would be the 8-Seed -- and face the Lynx in the best-of-3 First Round, Game 1 of which was won by Minnesota by 29, also at home Sunday afternoon.  I continue to worry that they will express traits of a Minnesota team and lose when they shouldn't.  But last/Tuesday night, both Las Vegas and Atlanta, the next two top Seeds that I think will give the Lynx fits, failed to close out their First Round series and will have to play a Game 3 tomorrow/Thursday night.  Meanwhile, Minnesota has to fly out to the Bay and play Game 2 tonight/Wednesday night.  I really don't think they're going to have a problem winning (crosses fingers).  If that's the case and the other contenders get more tread worn off because they need to play an extra Game, that's good for the Lynx, right?  That's why they're in Positive Numbers this Week.

#0: United FC (Re-Entry!).  When my alma mater's football Game got delayed by three fucking hours due to lightning, it put a crimp in my evening plans.  Still, I thought about going to the Black Hart all the way in St. Paul to watch the Loons' important Match on the road against San Diego FC, tops in the West hosting second in the West.  Thought better of it because I had work in the morning, so I watched on Apple TV instead ... and dammit, I wish I was with my people, because I can't think of a Win that was both more satisfying and more meaningful than their 3-1 victory.

Reading up on the chatter, it still feels to me like MNUFC is disrespected.  While it does rely on the fact that this XI mainly counteracts and gives up possession almost obsessively, writers still marvel at how they keep winning despite their play.  Shit, man, I guess we Loons fans are surprised, too, but they remain The Most Aggressive Set-Piece Team In The World because they fucking score, like the first Goal, turned in by Anthony Markanich (and what a signing he has turned out to be!) with his head at the back post in the 74th Minute.  Carlos Harvey turned in the Game-winner three Minutes later, and finally, belying the history of new United FC signings starting off quietly, pickup Nectarios Triantis did this in Injury Time:

I don't know if this was payback for the half-pitch golazo that SDFC player did at Allianz Field, but regardless, that was fucking sweet ... almost as sweet as inching closer to these gate-crashers for the top spot in the West by winning on their turf.

Now comes a pretty important screening Week.  Tonight/Wednesday night, they host a U. S. Open Cup Semifinal against Austin FC.  Win that and they're hosting Nashville SC in the Final October 1.  Meanwhile, in MLS play, they host Chicago Saturday night.  I might be able to see them for the First Half before I have to jet and see my alma mater play later that night.

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1).  The Diet Coke Classic has been this program's baby for at least a couple decades now, so being its champion is something you'd assume would happen.  And considering the competition is South Florida, Dayton and South Dakota St., meh, sweeping through seems predestined.  Wish the competition was higher.  And they drop a Set Sunday to the Jackrabbits, which might say something.  What probably won't say something are the final two non-conference opponents the Gophers face: Loyola-Chicago Friday and Marquette Sunday.  These two Games, to the squad's credit, will be true road Games.

#-2: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  Started out B1G play with a 2-all Draw at Nebraska.  That would be good ... except that you can see that the Gophers got out to a 2-0 lead before the half-hour mark but coughed up all three Points with two Cornhuskers Goals past the 80th Minute about four Minutes apart.  Oh, boy.  This Week: Hosting Rutgers tomorrow/Thursday night, at 11th-ranked Iowa Sunday afternoon.

#-3: Gopher football (Re-Entry!).  P. J. Fleck has been at the helm for a long time now, and he's gotten the program to a level where they are way beyond dreadful, and that is, in its own way, a miracle.  And you would think he's been around enough where he could make a jump to ... well, maybe not elite, but a squad that could be seen as a problem more and more often.

To do that, you would have to beat schools common people have heard of on a regular basis, and sometimes on the road.  And the team didn't clear that hurdle late Saturday night as they washed out at Cal, 27-14.  The Bears as a program have been kneecapped financial because of circumstances almost unique to the school itself.  But, they have this dynamite Freshman Quarterback, Jaron-Keawe Sagapolutele, that helped Cal pull away with ten Fourth Quarter Points.  I can't think of anyone else on that Bears club that would warrant a high draft pick, so I am a tad frustrated that a Power 2 school can still get humbled like that.  Now I'll assume that won't be the case when Rutgers comes to town for an early Saturday showdown two Weeks from now ... right?

#-4: Vikings: (Last Week: 0).  The Vikes do this from time to time, and it's maddening.  When they lose, they are just ... lifeless.  They had nothing going for them for practically the entire Game.  And you're watching, thinking that they have way more talent than the foe, in this case The Atlanta Falcons, and you keep seeing them not being able to run, or stop the run, or pass, or stop the pass.  And you're thinking that they'll somehow "get it" and start playing well, like they did in the Fourth Quarter in coming back to beat Chicago in Week 1.  But they don't.  They're just inert, and they slink up the tunnel quietly as the Purple Faithful wake up from their catatonic depressing and wonder what the fucking hell they just saw.

I think there's a meme in social media where this basic, ugly-looking character drawn in pencil on a sheet of paper has this rudimentary stick it taps on what I think is a rock and it goes, "Do something."  If I knew how to do a meme, I would slap the Vikings logo on that rock and caption it, "Do a football."  Which they didn't do at all in disappearing (at home no less) to the Falcons, 22-6.

Compounding all of that is the injury bug, which is hitting this team hard early in the season.  J. J. McCarthy, in news that Head Coach Kevin O'Connell broke without any reporter saying so first, is out 2-4 Weeks with a bad ankle.  Aaron Jones, Sr. is on Injured Reserve and will have to miss the next four Games.  And Christian Darrisaw, who would have helped immensely on Offense, sat out another Game.  Look, the Year's young, and I saw this team getting only six or seven Wins.  But hey, the anointed young QB that was supposed to be the key to getting this franchise its first-ever Super Bowl has now suffered his second injury in as many seasons, so his career is now facing an iffy trajectory.  And who knows what is going to happen to the Vikes now.

Home to Cincinnati, who also has QB trauma now that Joe Burrow needs to have surgery on his toe and might miss the rest of the season, Sunday afternoon.

#-5: Twins (Last Week: -4).  And hey, here are the Twinks.  They're not dead last in the A. L. Central, but they should be, and once again they bring up the rear in this screening Week's WMNSS.  They went 2-4 (seemingly for the 90th time in 2025).  I want to highlight the past two Games, home contests vs. The New York Yankees, and I know that there are more Yanks fans at Target Field than Twinks fans.  On Monday, the Twinks somehow shut out the Bronx Bombers, 7-0, the first time they have shut out their oppressors since 2008.  Last/Tuesday night, New York City was up 10-1 after four Innings.  We all thought the bitch-making was in full effect, but goddammit, the Twinks made a massive rally, scoring eight Runs.  They could have tied it, in fact, in the bottom of the Sixth Inning, but what would have been a Trevor Larnach three-Run dong was just a long Sacrifice Fly that scored Byron Buxton (who, we should continue to say, is still healthy and is having what could be the best season of his career).  They got one Run in the Ninth, but it was 10-9 Yanks, and we're left truly rooting for the hometown Nine for just showing fight against a team that owns the Twinks.

With all that said, there is a damn good off-field reason they're rock bottom in the WMNSS.  They have told four of the five members of their pro scouting department that this season is their last season.  This is not a Twins-only move; apparently it's become an MLB trend to slash the pro scouting departments.  To make up for it, organizations would do their scouting by watching videos at home, which reduces costs of travel.  Great; another cost-cutting measure whose proof of concept appears to have been the pandemic.  And while it's not unique to the Twinks, you know that it would be typically characteristic of the Twins to pull such a move.

They finish up with the Yankees tonight/Wednesday night, then host Cleveland for a four-Game series over the weekend (they will play a Doubleheader Saturday to make up for a previous Game), then travel to Texas for a three-Game series versus The Bastard Washington Senators v.2.0. starting Tuesday.

My God, It's Hot

Feels like summer right now.  Walking out in the Sun this afternoon and the rays have taken all the energy from me.  Don't want to do anything right now, and yet I have everything to do.

This would be hot enough for My Father to turn on the air conditioning.  That means he would have to come into my bedroom to close the window.  From there, he probably will pick up after me, like a goddamn loser.  And when I come home, he'll yell at me for not picking up after myself in the bedroom.  And then we will fight, and I won't have dinner for, like, the next week.  I should have closed the window before I left.  But then again, like I said in my previous blog post, why would that stop him?

My Fucking Father Has No Other Hobbies

When I come home, usually something that I put somewhere in my bedroom has been moved, meaning My Fucking Father has been in there.  That's annoying enough, but it didn't happen every goddamn day like it's happening now.  In the past when that happened I figured he was just bored.  Now, I think it's a measure of control over me.

Last/Monday night, after seeing The Great Dictator (excellent; the blurb of the theater I saw it in called it, "The most important comedy film ever," and even though that sounds ironic, I think it's true) I came home.  My Fucking Father didn't touch anything except for the three pairs of slippers I use.  I strewed them around the floor; he fuckin' stacked them up, all neat and shit.  Besides hating this invasion of privacy, I want y'all to know that I did not pay for these slippers.  My Fucking Parents bought them and gave them to me.  Not all at once, but several years apart.  I don't know really know why.  One pair I use, and then out of the blue they just give me another pair.  The newest pair, which they got me a couple months ago, they said they wanted me to use because, "They were quiet."  Like I stomp around in the old slippers to the point where they get woken up.  They have bought so many slippers for me thinking they know what's best for me; wouldn't they have found the perfect, most quietest slippers for me by now?

The more I think of this, the more I fucking hate him.  Get a fucking hobby, you creepy goddamn dolt.

The Most Cursed Business Address In Town

So I came home from exercising tonight/Sunday night.  (Aside: This finished up a long, yet productive day for me.  I filled in for work yesterday/Sunday, then I donated my golf clubs, no questions asked, then I went to an industrial complex to drop off all my old glasses but they were closed because it was an early Sunday evening, then I went to my storage unit to drop off the rest of the stuff I need to hide from my folks, then I ate dinner at Taco Bell, then I exercised for the first time in a while.  I put a hell of a lot of miles on my car, and I was afraid I would be too run down to even do all of this, but I made it.  And frankly, giving away the golf clubs and glasses lifted a burden off my shoulders.  Maybe I'll blog post more about my feelings about that later.)  Oh, yeah ... so I take a left at this intersection to get home from the community center.  But shortly after I finish the left, there are train tracks, and sometimes, and especially around 10 p.m. on a Sunday night, a train comes through, and it'll take a while for it to pass.

That happened, so what I do is drive to the next left, where I pass under the elevated train track.  (Sometimes I wonder it would take less time just to wait, but I am a man in motion, or a shark.)  On my way, I see this business to my left, right next to the gas station at this intersection.  It has signage for a restaurant.  This is different signage from the last time I drove past it.  In fact, this piece of real estate has gone through, and I am not kidding you, at least four different restaurant concepts.  It served hoagies a, long, long time ago; it advertised, so I went there to use a coupon (it was an NFL Playoff weekend, I remember that), and the guy fucked up my change and so I vowed never to go back there again), it went halal, and it was Vietnamese before it became Mexican, which is its current identity.

I am 100% sure that the Mexican restaurant, and no offense to the owners of it, will fail, and this building will undergo yet another transformation.  It will fail because I don't know of a worse place to have a restaurant in my hometown.  We have a couple of main drags in our city, but the street this is on is not one of them.  It's quiet and mainly residential when there isn't a park.  It's really dark.  There is no active business close by beside the gas station (even though there are active businesses up and down the street).  Finally, I don't know how often cars drive down this road, and you need some foot traffic to at least let people know there is a spot here who want to feed you Mexican food.

That footprint should be a small park, or housing, or just a parking lot.  Anything besides a money pit into which people chasing the American Dream throw their hard-earned savings.  And yet people continue to buy the property and try to make it succeed on their terms.  Well, OK -- good luck!

Unstable Next Two Weekends

As shitty as my homelife has been, it's gotten (relatively) better lately, if only because I gave in in order to keep the peace in the house.  But things will get more unsteady over the next two weekends, and I am trying to get ready for it.

Next weekend, as I have been told, ownership of the place I store my stuff officially changes.  I should go out there to see if I can speak with the new owners or managers, just to get the vibes of the new people coming in.  But based on what the caretakers who are moving out are telling me, I need to brace myself.  This was a mom-and-pop place, but the owners have sold out to a local chain.  The caretakers said that not only are rentals going month-to-month, but they are jacking up prices in order to "invest" in the property.  I have a contract that lasts another half a year, but after that, I have no idea what is going to happen.  And frankly, I am not 100% certain the new company will honor my contract.  If they break the deal, and they jack up prices of my rental unit, I will need to find a new place.  And while I have done my research and think I have found a new home for my stuff, both the uncertainty and the stress of moving my stuff is definitely something I am not looking forward to.  And I will need to do all this while hiding all of it from My Fucking Parents.

My sister comes home the next weekend.  It should be a joyous time, and I love my sis.  But the house already seems too crowded already, and I am woken up by noises from My Fucking Parents already, and I don't need the variable of a fourth person in the home.  Moreover, my sister might be here to assist My Mother as she begins the process of figuring out what she needs to do with her sciatica.  Worst case scenario: The screening yields a recommendation to get surgery, they have to wait weeks to get the surgery, there is at least six weeks for My Mother to rehabilitate from her surgery, and my sister is here the whole damn time.  I have no idea if it's possible to immediately go into surgery after a screening, but if not, there's a good chance My Fucking Parents will be here through the holidays and the New Year.  My sister too.  And goddamn, I need to be alone.

Trying to brace myself.  But it's so, so hard.

Caulking And Not Doing Things For Myself

The last fucking thing I need is to do house maintenance.  I was taking a faux bath to appease My Fucking Father when the entire shower assembly tore away from the wall.  It's not like I destroyed it, but it needs to be re-caulked.  Motherfucker.

I just looked up how to do it.  They say it's easy.  Bullshit.  I need to remove the old caulk, then I need to disinfect it and let it dry.  And then I have to re-caulk it and smooth it over.  And then I have to wait, sometimes (according to the videos I saw) up to two days.  And that's after I need to find all the damn tools to do this, which I probably don't have.

I'm tempted to tell My Fucking Father this, but I know he'll go ballistic.  He will also probably yell at me: "Why are you telling me to do this?  Do this yourself!  You're a grown man!"  Funny, his hypocrisy.  Back in the spring I was putting tabs on my license plates.  I remember a long time ago him telling me, "You should learn how to put the tabs on the licenses yourself!  This is your car, and you're old enough to know how!"  He abandoned me, I learned on my own, and I finally got to learning how to do it, no fucking thanks to him.  But as I was doing it and being very careful about it, not just putting the tabs on the licenses but unscrewing the frames and cleaning all the surfaces of the frame, the license and the car, My Fucking Mother pestered My Fucking Father into helping me.  I didn't ask for this shit, but while I was letting the frames and plates dry, My Fucking Father just took them into the garage.

I was doing this a bit before dinnertime.  I thought I had time because, you know, it isn't that long of a task, and I know how to do it now.  But as I was eating, My Fucking Father went back outside and screwed the licenses and frames back on my car.  And I will tell you that he did a half-ass job; the tabs should line up on top of each other, and he just slapped those stickers on.

I admit I am thinking of ways to get angry at My Fucking Parents, but My Fucking Parents do so much that it's almost an obligation to point it out.  And I will point out that My Fucking Father says I should learn how to do things only for him to do things for me.  Which is it?  Which will it be when I have to tell My Fucking Father the bathroom fixtures need re-caulking?  Is he going to make me do it, or is he going to do it himself, probably do a bad job ... and then blame me for not knowing how to do it?

Fuck This Guy

What our country has become since January is pretty fucking bad.  But in a cultural way, what has happened in the past day or so really, really frightens me.

What I have seen from his killing (and by the way, this isn't an "assassination."  Go look up Chris Rock's bit about Tupac and Biggie and that's what think about using that term in this case) on my Facebook is the outpouring of shock and anger over this when those same people had nothing to say about (and this has been the assassination [and here the term is used appropriately because it involves a political figure murdered for political reasons] of Minnesota State Senator Melissa Hortman, her husband and her dog.  That observation goes down avenues that should be addressed individually.  First off, I am certain that most of the people who bitch about what happened and didn't say anything about the Hortman murders back in June are MAGAts who refuse to see how hypocritical they sound.  There are also arguments of "No one should be murdered for what they said!" when they either are unaware or refuse to actually listen to his arguments, all of which have a universal theme of putting down and insulting anyone who isn't a White, Christian, hetero, cis male.  When you add that his political organization made a list and subjected college professors to abuse for teaching subjects he didn't like to the point they were driven out of their jobs, it goes beyond free speech and into illegal action.  Finally, there are those who are only thinking of her wife and children.  I will give my sympathies to them, as I would to any human.  But based on what he thought of empathy, I am in no mood to give to him what he said he would not give in turn.

But the sanewashing (I may have said this before here, but this is a great word that speaks to the madness of our times) of this man after he got taken out has reached a level of national and cultural resonance that scares the living shit out of me.  Flags have been ordered at half-mast.  OK, he did not hold any political office.  That is what lowering flags to half-mast is for, not this asshole.  And other Governors, especially Democratic ones like Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania doing the same in the name of "unity" is particularly gross.  How could they?  But there were moments of silence for this asswipe at the Tigers-Yankees and Commanders-Packers Games last night.  Why?  This guy was a podcaster, and a fucking racist, sexist, transphobic shit-stirrer.  And we're holding a moment of silence for someone who spat at the existence of people who don't look like him?!

And another thing: I will bet you that there are a lot of people who have no idea who the hell he was.  Which means that we are holding a moment of silence for some dude.  Not anyone who has tried to make the world a better place, not someone you would have at least heard about if you watch the news from time to time, but some shitstain.  But MLB and the NFL seemed to have bent the knee to Trump and Republicans in valorizing a man who thought Blacks were stealing White peoples' jobs, who believed that a woman's place is in the home, and who thought that everybody ought to carry a gun if they so choose.  Well, look where that last belief got him.

That is what scares me so much.  This paying of respects to a man who had no respect for people of color, women and the LGBTQ+ community seems to have been conditioned nation-wide.  (Worldwide too -- I just saw what I think was a meeting of the European Parliament when someone called for a moment of silence to honor this man.  What do Europeans give a fuck about what happened to this asshole in the United States?  Left-wing Members of Parliament wouldn't shut up during that moment, and good for them.)  And if the country has decided that this demagogue is indeed a martyr ... that means that the Republican mindset that anybody who doesn't toe their line is a danger to (their) America and should be eliminated becomes that much more acceptable.

I highly doubt that this shooting was part of some conspiracy.  But Republicans and Trump are putting in place a plan to make this country a White nationalist one, and they are using every event to reach that goal.  I was hoping that there would be some resistance to this slide into fascism.  What I saw in the past 24 hours is more proof that there just ain't enough.

The Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: August 2025

Well, this is what I get when I have to stash calendars out of sight -- I feel ill-equipped to make judgements from women's photographs, especially if I probably only have seen them two, maybe three times.  But this is as good a time as any to make this list, so I am going to take the plunge.

Out of the dozen Hooters servers pictured for August '25, I will point out five of them.  Overall, I would say it's a bit below average, but I might sing a different tune if I had more time to look at the month.

In fifth place is Charlotte's Hope.  Long black hair, sporting a yellow two-piece.  She's standing against the side of a house, we only see her side, and she's holding the straps of her bikini top in a distracting way.  But posing in profile emphasizes her big breasts.  Also, bikini tops are hanging on hooks right next to her on the side of the house, making one think that she might change bikinis right in front of you -- right?!

In fourth place is Cloe, of Fort Lauderdale, Fla.  Long, wavy brown hair that stretches below her boobs, she looks to be wearing a black two-piece bikini bordered in pink.  She is tugging that string between the fabric that covers the titties -- an easy but nice touch.

In third place is the Main Girl, Skylar, hailing from Fort Myers, Fla.  Lightish brown hair that falls to her tits, she's wearing a pink one-piece with that one strap that goes over her left shoulder.  She has her wrists resting against a round standing table.  She shows no emotion, but she has some piercing hazel eyes that you get lost in.

In second place is Gianna, out of North Tampa, Fla.  Straight, jet black hair that reaches down to the small of her back, she's sporting a gold two-piece bikini.  She appears to be sitting and/or straddling something to the side of the pool.  That means she is in side profile, which isn't always great, but she shows us a little bit of her bare backside, so she barely qualifies for that "If she shows ass, she goes straight to the top" principle I have.

Finally, in first place is Kayla, from Tucson.  She is also posing in side profile, but you can see just a little more of her ass anyway.  Add to it that her left thumb is tugging on the string between her boob coverings (she's wearing a pink two-piece).  What gets her over the top is how distinctively gorgeous she is: Unlike many of the other Hooters waitresses who pose, she has short (blonde) hair and she has small, perky titties.  Not who you would normally see in a Hooters calendar ... which makes her stand out even more.

So congratulations to Kayla and the other four who pose with distinction.  I will make sure to touch myself to all five of you before the house gets even more crowded.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Vikings (NEW SEASON!!).  Granted, I am putting the Vikes up past negative numbers based on vibes, on how they left me feeling.  Because those first three Quarters, man, the team sucked.  The Defense, behind lauded Defensive Coordinator looked lost as their reliance on Zone Coverage meant many Chicago Bears receivers were free to catch and roam.  And J. J. McCarthy, uh, woof.  I understand he's basically a Rookie, but the entire organization has invested their time and their hopes upon him.  (The fanbase too, come to think of it.)  He has to come through as a polished Quarterback, but for far too often on Monday night, McCarthy looked like a Rookie, especially when he threw that damn dumb Pick-Six that felt as if Chicago polished off the Game.

But dammit, that Fourth Quarter!  He threw two Touchdown Passes and ran in a third himself.  Did I read correctly that he is only the second QB to ever get his team to come back from at least a 15-Point deficit in the Fourth to win his first-ever NFL Game?  And he looked the part in the 4Q, spinning dimes to Justin Jefferson and Aaron Jones, Sr., then calling his name and keeping it himself for the contest-winning score.  I know it's Chicago, and I know he will take his lumps.  But I gotta say that that comeback was awesome because it came outta nowhere.  If the Vikings can win this Game when I didn't think they had a chance at all, why not believe they can do it again -- for example Sunday night, when they host Atlanta?

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -5).  Well, they went down to Nashville over the weekend and kicked ass, sweeping both Vanderbilt and Lipscomb.  They're pushovers, but in a petty, bullying way, winning 3-0 over pushovers makes you feel good.  They host the Diet Coke Classic this weekend, where the foes are Dayton, South Florida, and South Dakota St.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -1).  I have to tell you all, I'm not liking how the Lynx are finishing up their regular season.  This Week they beat the Valkyries in Golden State, but only by six, and they sandwiched that with Losses on the road to white-hot Las Vegas and Indiana.  Now, you can say that they are mailing it since they have Home-Court Advantage throughout the WNBA Playoffs.  (Napheesa Collier, for example, did not dress for the defeat to the Fever last/Tuesday night due to "load management.")  But this club is only 5-5 in their last ten Matches, and those defeats were to teams they might see in the postseason.  Also, I'm not sure how multi-dimensional they are on Offense.  If the outside shooters aren't hitting, they seem to be very, very vulnerable.

They finish the regular season hosting Golden State tomorrow/Thursday night.  They then start the Quarterfinals over the weekend.  It's a best-of-three series, and I'm scared that the Lynx are capable of having back-to-back clunkers.  Sorry, it's just a feeling I have.

#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  No, no, no.  You don't lose to fucking Wisconsin-Milwaukee, especially not in the 82nd Minute, especially not at home.  Geez, this squad has a huge damn hole to climb out of ... that is, if they're any good.

That defeat to the Panthers marked the end of non-con play.  They begin B1G play at Nebraska tomorrow/Thursday.

#-4: Twins (Last Week: -6).  A 2-4 screening Week ... just like the previous screening Week.  They started off last Wednesday getting finished off by the White Sox, who won all four tilts of their series at Target Field.  They then dropped two-of-three in Kansas City and have split their first two Games in Anaheim.  They are now equidistant from the last-place White Sox as they are from the third-place Royals.  The biggest buzz within the franchise now is Walker Jenkins, who is only 20 Years old but has just been promoted to AAA St. Paul.  This is the next great hope for the Twinks; if he is even a decent player, that'll quell all the hate the Pohlads are getting, again.

They finish up the series vs. Anaheim this/Wednesday afternoon, then start a weekend trio at home versus Arizona.  Then The New York Yankees come to town for a three-Game set starting Monday.

Still Fucking Mad At My Fucking Parents

I realized Sunday night that even though I was able to save my shakers and strainer, my jigger and juicers are gone.  Don't know where the hell they are, so they must've thrown them away and I wasn't able to find them.  Jesus fucking Christ, if they just fucking looked at them, they would've known that they were useful.  And they just fucking threw them away.

I couldn't sleep last night.  I was determined to move my stuff.  Without knowing where they might hit me next, I honed in on all my Franklin Planners that I have kept over the years.  I know that if they want to, they can look through them and ask, for example, "Who's (stripper girlfriend's name)?"  And I won't know what to say.  For all the rank invasion of privacy they have just inflicted upon me, none of it appears to be sexual in nature -- as in they haven't found my porn or my cum towel because I had the foresight to throw those into my storage unit.  Thank goodness I still have that.  But, if they want to snoop and look at what I wrote, they might figure shit out.  And if they do, I wouldn't know what to do then.  And I'll leave it at that.

So I devised a plan on taking all my Franklin Planners and throw them into my car to eventually take to my storage place.  But I've been using day planners for, once I started packing them into bags, for upwards of a quarter century.  That's a quarter-century's worth of papers I have put in binders.  It filled two bags, and my unit already is six feet tall.  Man ... do I really have to do this?

I then thought I could bag them, then wait for a morning where I can quickly take them to the car, but I got stopped at the thought of throwing them on top of my tall pile of stuff.  And then I tried stashing them back in my room, specifically my nightstand, but that got full really quick.  I then realized that they were kind of perfect in the bookshelf in my former room which, for some fucking reason, has turned into My Fucking Mother's room she will use if/when she gets hip surgery.

I am scared that I will regret this, but I punted on my plan.  What I wanted to do was a hell of a lot of work that I didn't think was worth it.  So I kind of did half of my plan.  I have put the binders for the six most-recent years in a drawer in my bedroom.  The earliest binders I put back in the bookshelf, even though I made it nicer and put them behind a row of photo albums.  That left two binders, and I think My Fucking Parents won't see that I put them in my nightstand.  Over subsequent years -- if they don't fucking throw them away -- once I bundle the previous year's paper in a binder, I will put it in my drawer, then take the oldest one and put it in my nightstand.  It's the best I am willing to do.  And I hope to Buddha My Fucking Parents don't fuck with them.

And by the way, it may have taken me awhile to realize what else My Fucking Parents threw away.  And I reserve the right to get pissed off later if I realize there are other things they've taken from me.

We ate steak for dinner.  Every fucking time when My Fucking Father puts the steak on my plate, My Fucking Mother insists I should check to see if it's cooked well enough.  It is; Father likes it on the rarer side, but it's not as if the damn thing's alive.  But without fucking fail, when she checks her steak, My Fucking Mother always says it's undercooked and has My Fucking Father put it on the grill outside to cook it some more.

I hesitate to say that she also tells me that my steak is undercooked and he has to cook it some more.  At least I don't want to say that it's every time.  But it was this time.  Even though the steak was a medium, maybe medium-rare, My Fucking Mother just fucking told My Fucking Father to cook it again.

And this might be the tie-in as to how My Fucking Parents have ruined my life.  They step in and do things for me because they think it's best for me.  They did it when they just gave me a new fucking bed.  They did it when they told me I had to go to summer school.  And they did when I had to wait to eat my steak.  I am fucking powerless because of the decisions they make for me, and it pisses me off.

Goddamn, when are they going to leave??

Addendum To: No Home To Come Home To

And another thing: I've felt it before, but I was able to shrug it off, but now, I am scared as hell that my parents want something from me every minute I'm at home.  Why can't you help me do this?  Why don't you do this in your bedroom?  What are you gonna do about this?  It feels non-stop now since they threw all my stuff away.  Just now My Fucking Father asked me what I'm going to do with the golf clubs.  I thought he wanted me to golf, and now he wants me to get rid of the golf clubs.  I don't know what I'm going to do with the golf clubs!  And he wants me to figure it out?  It wasn't fucking hurting anything to just ... leave it.  But now I have to worry about that, like I have to worry about this thing, and that thing, and that other goddamn thing. ...

And what the fuck is My Fucking Father doing with the shower curtains???  I have opened the shower curtains all the way.  It's what you're supposed to do to air it out and let it dry after showers.  But for some goddamn reason, for the past week or so I see the curtain tied up, or touched in a way that is obvious that My Fucking Father came into the bathroom.  Why?  I think that's his way of telling me to make sure I shower every day, like that's any of his fucking business.  If that's why he's doing that, well, I just faked taking a shower just now.  I know it's petty, and you could say I might as well shower for real if I'm going to do that, but seriously, fuck him, it ain't any of his goddamn business why I don't shower every goddamn day.  How fucking creepy is that bullshit?

Oh, every day he straightens out the bath towel I use, too.  That asshole doesn't have anything else to do in his doddering old age, does he?

No Home To Come Home To

I say all of this while I am sitting at home.  Irony, hypocrisy, I'll own up to all of that.

I'm afraid of coming home every day.  I just am.  Ever since My Fucking Parents threw all my shit out the house, ever since they gave me ultimatums to clean my room and myself, I don't feel welcome at home.  I just don't.  I guess I have felt this way before, and I might be repeating myself when I say this, but I'll say it anyway: This time feels different.  Them tooling around outside my bedroom door -- My Fucking Mother working on her sewing, My Fucking Father working outside doing God knows what -- was annoying before all this but now feels kind of threatening.  It's like they own the place.  Which they do, but I've never felt threatened that my stuff or I will be thrown out.

This past week has been relatively mild at work, and that lightening of workload could not have come at a worse time.  Because that means I have to go home, and I absolutely did not want to.  I was afraid to go home.  Back on Wednesday I went to the library to be a part of that fantasy football auction that no one showed up for, and I made a point to stay out as late as possible.  Because I knew that once I got home, I'd have to look in the trash bin and the recycling bin to see what else of mine they tried to throw away, which meant I had to retrieve it, throw it in my car, then make time to get to my storage unit.  One day I looked and saw that they tossed my old New Orleans Saints hat.  The fuck you are.  Then I have to see what else they moved inside my bedroom.  Did they throw anything away from here?  Did they move things around thinking that, like, hanging up my hats this way is best for me?  And what would they say, goddammit, how will they threaten me directly?

I shouldn't be feeling this way.  No one should.  Everyone should have shelter where they can relax and feel secure.  I don't care that I supposedly have a place here.  I don't have a place here.  My folks have made sure that they run this place and if they don't like something of mine, it's gone, and if I don't like it, then I'll be gone, too.  These are my fucking asshole parents, by the way.

---

I have thought about needing a new place to store my stuff -- not just because my place is changing ownership, but because there is more and more stuff I have had to move from home.  I have checked prices for my current size unit and the next step up, and the difference in price is so great that I have initially balked at it.

But after feeling that I won't be safe at home, I have largely stopped being resistant of getting a 5" x 10" now.  Part of it is the realization I just don't have enough space (and that does make me think I really have to go through my stuff).  But I'm starting to think I that I should spend some time in a larger spot ... not to go through my things, but to relax.

I'm serious.  I have had this fantasy (for lack of a better word) that I have moved all my things into a 5" x 10" but have enough floor space to open up a folding chair, close the door behind me, turn off the light ... and just nap.  I can't nap anymore at home because of all the damn racket those two do out there.  And I have no idea when, or even if, they're leaving.  So if I need real peace and quiet, I think that I might spend the extra money for a bigger spot, buy myself a folding chair, and make that place my new, and real, safe space.

Pathetic?  Probably.  But I need peace, man.

I Compromised. I Am Complicit

I have been taking a shower daily nowadays.  This is in reaction to My Fucking Father, and I can't believe he had the nerve to do this to me as I'm approaching 50, ordering me a few weeks ago to shower every day.  I don't want to shower every day.  In fact, they say it's not a good idea to shower daily.  You go every other day.  Hell, you can even get away with showering only twice a week!

But I haven't done that because, at some fucking point, I have to make my peace with these two jerks who aren't leaving anytime soon.  If My Fucking Father knows that I'm showering, maybe he'll back off from lecturing me about it, and maybe then he'll stop snooping around my room, or throwing my shit away.  At the same time, I have no clue whether he will stop at all.  And beyond that, this is me doing something (namely showering) that I don't want to do.  To me, this isn't just compromising.  I am bending the knee.  And a large part of me is ashamed of myself for knuckling under his stupid damn orders.  But hey, if I do knuckle under, I am part of the problem, goddammit.

Maybe Fuck Dinner

I am doing my level best to convey how upset I am that they have gone through and literally thrown away most of my stuff, but doing so in a passive-aggressive way so that I don't get thrown out of the house.  That's tough to do, considering that they still don't seem to give a shit.  But I might have been pushed to do something that could get their attention, if only because I am now tired of it myself.

Yesterday/Thursday was a no-spend day.  I was going to go in to work, leave work, and go home.  (I have my trepidations about doing that, but I will blog post about that at a later time.)  Work actually was light, light enough for me to come home at a decent hour, early enough to eat dinner with my folks.  But that didn't happen.  My Fucking Mother recently alluded to the fact that, because I had worked so late so often, My Fucking Parents don't eat dinner much, either.  So, regardless of when I come home, eating together has gotten quite rare in the last, oh, couple months, and we really haven't eaten together all that much since they came home.

What they do is leave food for me, and usually it's too much, way more than I would get for myself if we were eating together.  My Fucking Parents continue to say that I don't have to eat all the food they leave for me, but I know that's a goddamn lie.  I mean, they used the impetus of me spearheading donating my old car as an excuse to clean everything else I hold near and dear out.  (Don't care if that sounds like a conspiracy; I believe it.)  So I am under the gun to eat everything they laid out for me.  And for dinner last night, they laid out two pork chops, three pieces of Kentucky Fried Chicken, a bowl of spicy vegetables, tofu soup, and about a cup of rice.

That was so goddamn much it took me two hours to eat it all.  And I feel fat because I am fat after consuming that all.  And they're not even there.  So now, after they've taken everything important from me and done so under false pretenses, why in the fuck am I eating all this shit by myself?  If dinner is something we don't do anymore, why should I even eat at home anymore?  I mean, sometimes I will eat out.  But I am thinking that even on these no-spend days, I just go home and ... not eat.  And it doesn't matter if I get home late or early.  I just won't eat.  You know, I keep complaining about all this food and how it's fattening my belly and making me gain weight.  Why not ... just not eat?

And hey, it might send a message that I don't think we're a family anymore.  Because after the bullshit they just pulled, we're not.

And No One Showed Up

So my fantasy auction, for the fantasy football league I run, was last night.  Since most of the other members reside in the East Coast, I have traditionally scheduled it for 6 in the evening before the start of the NFL season, just to get the very latest news in case there are late injuries or cuts or anything like that.

This is supposed to be the most exciting day for the league and its members.  But, and I don't know how or why the juice is gone (although I can speculate), fewer and fewer members have shown up for the auction.  We have dwindled in number of members too, but when the auction starts, there has been at least one other person doing it live with me.

I actually left work early for this.  What I mean is that I usually clear the deck, aka make sure there is no work that is supposed to be done before the new day left over to the new day.  It was doubly important last/Wednesday night because I go from The Third Department to The Fourth Department today/Thursday, so I would literally be leaving any stuff I was supposed to do to someone else.  I hate when I have to do stuff that should have been done the day before, and so I do my best not to do it to anyone else.  Last/Wednesday night was an exception because hey, I've got my fantasy football auction!

I needed to take a crap after I punch out, then I miss my turn and have to take the long way to the library.  I have maybe two minutes to get into the library, swipe a guest pass, login, get to Yahoo! Fantasy Sports, log in there, then enter the auction.  It in fact already started with the first player, Ja'Marr Chase, having been nominated and on his way to one of my competitors.  I was about to apologize for being late until I saw that all of the icons next to all the other teams in the league were represented by the dueling circular arrows.  That means that they're not online and that the computer/algorithm is conducting the auction for that manager.

Everyone except me had that icon.  No one was at the auction except for me.

Looking on the bright side, I had budgeted 90 minutes to go through the auction, but it was over in 35.  On the down side ... well, no one gives a damn about this league anymore.  And we play for money!  It's gotten so bad that there are people who have rolling winnings and debts to the league stretching back years. I (as the commissioner) haven't sent the other managers their winnings because the other managers haven't asked for them.  In turn, I haven't asked people to settle up what they owe because ... well, I'm a toothless commissioner.  And so we just ... play, sorta.  Year after year, and although I love that we have been doing this for at least a decade, the lack of enthusiasm for our league, crystallized by everyone else no-showing for the auction ... ngl, it hurts a bit.

I think we'll just auto-pick from now on.

The Weekly MInnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  So, the inevitable has become the official -- with their shellackings at Connecticut and home to Paige Bueckers and The Bastard Detroit (by way of Tulsa) Shock (and BTW, if you get around to see social media of Bueckers and her team at The Minnesota State Fair, do yourselves a favor and look through it all), the Lynx have sewn up The Best Record In The League and will have home-court advantage throughout the WNBA Playoffs.

Unfortunately, this past screening Week also includes a Loss to Seattle, a club fighting for a playoff spot.  Worse yet, Minnesota lost at Target Center.  Worst of all, they got blown out in the Second Half, usually a strong point, getting outscored 60-33 on their way to a 93-79 defeat.  Yes, they're 32-8.  But I have seen enough setbacks that make me seriously think they won't win the title.  They might not make it to the WNBA Finals because, well, sometimes they just don't show up.  That could be fatal, ironically, over the short series in the Quarterfinals (which are best-of-three) and Semifinals (which are best-of-five).  I still am not sure that they have it all.

And don't look now, but The Bastard Utah Starzz/San Antonio Silver Stars are in second place and have won a dozen in a row.  They host Minnesota Thursday.  They finish the road portion of their schedule this week with trips to Golden State and Indiana after visiting Vegas.

#-2: United FC (Last Week: -1).  I don't know if this was a principle I relied on in the past, but the two top teams this Week clinched something.  For the Loons it's a spot in the postseason by virtue of their 1-all Draw at home to Portland.  Ironically, MNUFC scored both Goals.  Nicolas Romero inadvertently failed to clear a centering pass lumbering across the face of goal in the 79th.  But then Robin Lod was able to corral a deft deep ball from Will Trapp, settle it once, and knock it into the net to tie it up despite being hassled by a defender:

Sorry, I don't know what that weird music's all about, but this was the only highlight of the Goal I could see on YouTube.

A note on that play: It features to Loons whom I had been real down on.  For about a season and a half, Lod was playing like a dud.  But then he scored in that U. S. Open Cup Final (which United FC lost to Atlanta), and really, he's been indispensable ever since, quietly and dutifully playing in any role he has been asked to play.  Meanwhile, I've thought Trapp has played too ploddingly and with some reckless abandon.  But this season he's been able to keep (relatively) clean on the pitch, plus he has added some contributions in scoring and, as you saw above, assisting.  Those two are playing well, and are two of many reasons why, believe it or not, MNUFC is one of the best sides in Major League Soccer.

I think they're on an International Break until the 13th, where the second-place-in-the-West Loons travel to take on first-place San Diego FC.

#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  Still kind of think they'll never be able to overcome that opening-Match collapse at home to BYU.  But these Gophers have recovered to win four in a row, with victories over Marquette (a 4-3 thriller at Robbie Stadium) and then a 2-0 Shutout Labor Afternoon at Brown.  One final non-con tune-up comes Friday night when they host Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

#-4: Gopher football (NEW SEASON!!).  Don't know how good Buffalo's supposed to be.  Hell, I don't know how good the U.'s supposed to be.  But better to win than to lose, and the Gophers pulled away in after Halftime to soundly defeat the Bulls, 23-10.  There was a lot of fundamental football (Offensive Line play, running the ball, turning the ball over without turning it over themselves) that has slowly become a hallmark of The P. J. Fleck Era, and that's not a bad thing.  Now comes a bodybag Game at home Saturday afternoon against Northwestern St.  Are they a second-division program?

#-5: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -5).  Like I said, better to win than to lose, and the volleyballers ran the table this Week, winning over Cal Poly, Ball St. and St. Thomas, all at home.  But this is Minnesota I'm talking about, and they dropped one Set to both Cal Poly and St. Thomas.  Considering the historical caliber of Minnesota and how not good those two squads are, I am not impressed at all.  These should have been sweeps, all three of them.  That they're not is disconcerting.

The team's in Nashville this weekend.  They play Vanderbilt, a BcS school that has not had a women's volleyball program until this Year, Friday night, then another Music City university, Lipscomb, Saturday night.

#-6: Twins (Last Week: -4).  A 2-4 screening Week.  Last/Tuesday night was Bark In The Park, where you can bring your dogs (and maybe your pets) with you into Target Field.  That was not enough to populate the stadium, which, according to some photos I saw on social media, looked absolutely dead.  And why not -- the Twinks' Bullpen was their shitty post-Trade Deadline state again, giving up multiple Runs to the White Sox from the Fifth through the Eighth Innings on their way to a 12-3 pummeling.  They've dropped the first two Games of the series to the ChiSox, the only team in the Division below them.  A series Win over the weekend at home over San Diego is but a faded memory.

After tonight, they travel and play at Kansas City for a three-Game set over the weekend.  They then go out to Anaheim to play The Los Angeles Angels Of Anaheim Angels Of Los Angeles Of Anaheim Angels Of ... for a trio starting on Monday.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Labor Day, also known as Monday, September 1:

• We start at Sunday, August 31, which was my last of four days at The Minnesota State Fair.  I noticed that did not get too many of the new foods because, like I said in a previous blog post, there wasn't a consensus new food (well, besides the soft serve beer, which may not be a food) that I would wait for hours to try.  (And by the way, the lines to the soft serve beer were non-existent.  It was hyped all over the place, as I did in that same previous blog post, but did it make enough money that justified a return on investment?)  There was that ube lumpia that I waited in line for, but it was getting late and the line didn't seem to move, so I bailed.  What I did get were the Maple Cream Nitro Cold Press Coffee from the Farmers Union; Granny's Green Apple Sucker Ice Cream; the new Aegean Dream beer from Dino's; a Cider Freeze, that iced apple juice in a plastic tube considered to be the cheapest Fair food you can find for many, many years; a corn dog (not a pronto pup, a corn dog, and it's the first time I've ever had a corn dog, I think); and an Aloha Pineapple Haze that was being sold only from the eating establishments inside the Warner Coliseum.  All told, I spent: $40.50.
• And Father paid me for getting Powerball tickets for him.  It's an Infusion of: $10.
• Saturday the 30th was the start of my alma mater's football season, and I'm glad they kicked ass.  This place upcharges for credit cards, and since the State Fair was replete with vendors that also did that, plus the Powerball being where it is right now, and I have used cash like I haven't since before the pandemic.  And this is a good thing because I should want to avoid giving away money if I don't have to, right?  With tip I paid: $32.
• Friday the 29th was my third trip to the Fair.  Had the yuzu meringue Croffle Cloud; the Bama! Lemon Sweet Tea mocktail; the Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float from Tasti-Whip; the newest apple creation from the University of Minnesota, the First Kiss; a Bee-Nana Pie, one of the stalwarts of last year's rookie class of new foods; and the second time I had that Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer from West End Brews.  Total: $54.
• Tuesday, August 26 -- Father, paying me back for Powerball tickets, an Infusion of: $10.
• And I went to my game-watching bar to make sure everything was set for Saturday.  With tip I shelled out: $15.
• Monday the 25th: Father paid me back for Powerball, but I'm sure he didn't exactly pay me back on this date; I just put it here because I used cash on this day and I have a rule that if you are using one form of currency to pay for something, you need to use it again so it won't be lonely.  Anyway, this is an Infusion of: $50.
• To Sunday, August 24 ... I spent the evening going to Palmer's Bar, presumably for the last time, so I could see Cornbread Harris play as part of his longstanding Sunday night residency.  It'll end after three more Sundays because one of the owners stole from the century-old bar to pay for his drug addiction, and the other owners could not make up for that deficit, so they sold them the bar and, I assume, the land beneath it.  Fucking shame.  I tried to see Cornbread Harris play, but instead of the riser at the back of the bar, he just played on the floor at the front.  That meant there was a sea of people just standing in front of me, basically blocking my view of Mr. Harris for the whole two hours.  I was able to fight toward the band as other groups, who were talking to each other and not really there to see Cornbread, backed off.  But I got the feeling that in such a busy environment, everyone had the right to get close to the music as possible, so I cycled myself away, grabbed a second beer, sat outside and just drank through the end of the first set, intermission, and the beginning of the second set.  Not quite what I expected when my friend said we should go (she didn't join me), but I'm glad to have heard Mr. Harris and to be in that Minneapolis institution one final time.  Minneapolis Cider plus tip, tips for the band, and a mild polish sausage from a cart vendor who was just outside Palmer's: $17.
• Oh, before I took the light rail to Palmer's I dove into this, er, really clean downtown bodega called the Players Club.  I got Powerball tickets there totalling: $12.
• On Saturday the 23rd I went to The Great Minnesota Get-Together for the second time, primarily to see the Grandstand concert which was Atmosphere & Friends.  I wish I got the Somali Street Fries, but I had no idea at the time that the reviews would be nearly unanimous in their praise for it.  But I did go out on a limb and purchased the Sweet Squeakers (as well as a trusty small blueberry basil lemonade) from the Blue Barn; a frozen Blu from West End Brews (which I think is just LuLu's); and a Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float.  Total damage: $44.75
• Thursday, August 21 ... went to the opening day (actually evening) of the State Fair since I got out of work at a decent hour to put in a properly long visit.  I usually go during the first day to knock off the mainstays I want to eat; my plan, even though I didn't really follow it this year, was to devote other visits to the new foods.  So, I got a pina colada from Manny's Tortas; the cheese curds from Mouth Trap; a honey lemonade (with tip) from the honey exhibit in the Agriculture-Horticulture Building; fried pickles; that soft-serve beer for the first time; a Minnecookiedough Pie; and a lychee colada from Union Hmong Kitchen at which I believe I got fucked out of six cents due to a combination of the owner not differentiating between cash and charge prices, the owner not getting dimes or nickels or pennies for change, and a really, really shitty cashier.  They had a new food for the Fair, but I stayed the hell away from them because I was upset.  Anyway, I notice that I usually get my fill of Fair food and drink once I cross the $50 threshold.  On this first day, I blew way, way past that: $72.75.
• To Wednesday the 20th, where I had the day off and spent the afternoon going to get my car washed.  I charged the wash, so I used cash for the tip: $5.
• I then got a shave from the learning school close by.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, but I doubt he paid me back on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• On Tuesday, August 19 I fucked ***i*.  And thank Buddha inflation hasn't hit with her: $120.
• Monday the 18th ... I needed money to buy lottery tickets, so I stopped by the bank to get money.  I then walked over to Caribou to get a small mocha with oak milk, and I thought I might as well pay with cash instead of through the app.  I was shocked at how pricey it was.  Well, mochas these days are expensive, but I thought that oat milk for me was going to be free.  Turns out oat milk is free only if purchasing through the application; otherwise, it's a buck extra.  Well, shit, good to know.  But at least I got the trivia question right.  With tip: $7.03.
• Went to Hooters after work to use a calendar coupon.  Hooters also upcharges if you use your credit card, so I now primarily pay with moolah when at Hooters.  With tip: $32.
• Saturday, August 16 -- after watching the MNUFC Match I moseyed on over to the Midway Saloon.  I had a ton of beer that day, but I was thirsty, so I just bought a Coke.  With tip: $5.50.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• To Tuesday the 12th, where I went to my alumni game-watching bar to make sure 1) the bar was still standing and 2) that they would still welcome us.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• On Monday, August 11 I wanted to go to the Heights Theater to see Waiting For Guffman, which I have heard many great things about.  It's OK; it has those quotable lines ("I hate you, and your ass face!"), but otherwise it has that cringe mockumentary approach that I find somewhat condescending.  Paid money for the ticket, a small pop and popcorn, and tips for concessions and the organ player: $30.
• Back to Saturday, July 26 ... Palmfest was at Palmer's Bar.  It's a weekend-long festival of local bands just, you know, playing, which was Palmer's total reason to exist, and that reason was mover than enough.  Cover, an orange Jameson slushie, a Fulton 300, and tips for those two drinks came out to: $29.
• Wednesday the 23rd: Went to A Bar Of Their Own to watch a Women's EURO Semifinal.  It was raining cats and dogs out there, damn.  With tip I paid: $28.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, and then some.  I think he paid me on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Monday the 21st was the last week where **y said she could accommodate my, uh, carnal needs because her daughter was in class.  I hadn't been serviced by her in a long, long time.  Partly it was because of the distance, partly because she had people staying with her for an extended period.  But it was worth the wait because, like I said when I (kind of) blog posted about her, she bit my pee-pee.  Goddamn, that was glorious!  Total: $150.
• **y and I talked for a little bit, to catch up on old times.  She only went topless, but she put her bra and shirt on while I was laying on her daughter's bad, completely naked with my legs open.  But I had to leave, unfortunately.  Not only did she need to pick up her daughter, I had to go meet a friend who was only going to be in town until the next afternoon.  So I had to drive all the way from the south metro to the north to pick her up and decide to have a quick beer at this place I have never been to that's kind of close to where we both live.  She used her credit card for the both of us, so I paid her back for the drink and soup I got: $23.
• Finally, back on Saturday, July 19, after an alumni function, I made my (now annual) tradition of going to Tongue In Cheek to eat.  I was going to go for the steak, but because the guy sitting next to me did, I opted, for the second year in a row, for the ramen.  I think I was there a long time because I remember intently scrolling through my phone.  Anyway, with tip I paid a very, very expensive: $76.

And once again I say to myself I have to do these more often.  Good through September 1.

The Death Of Summer

Went to The Minnesota State Fair yesterday/Sunday -- for some peace and quiet.  It might sound paradoxical to say that since, well, everybody's at the State Fair.  But honestly, seeing everybody so happy (well, besides the kids crying because of something or other) gave me a serenity that's sorely lacking at home now.

They made me go through all my stuff even though it didn't hurt anyone.  They fucking rearranged my room.  They even got into the locked goddamn compartment in my desk.  They took everything.  They found everything that was in here ... which means, thank Buddha, that they didn't see my porn because I moved it all out to my storage space.  But I am looking at my bedroom, what is supposed to be my safe place, my fortress, and it is completely unrecognizable to me because both My Fucking Parents moved everything around to something they like even though I'm the one who has to live in it.

I have always been wistful on my last visit to the Fair.  I've always associated it with the end/death of summer, and so when I walk out of the Fairgrounds for the last time, to me it feels like I'm leaving summer behind me.  But I'm more sentimental and sad about summer this time around because of how shitty I feel because of the trauma My Fucking Parents inflicted on me.  It was so happy there, and because of that I was happy, and I could feel as though I could forget my worries for a few hours.  But while I tried to put it out of my mind, I still remembered that, at some point, the joy I felt had to end, and I had to return to a place where, frankly, I don't feel secure right now.  I leave the happiness of summer behind and enter a fall (the season I like the most, ironically) with two people who fucking torment me when they should be my champions.  And so it feels as though it's all crashing down.

The 2025 Minnesota State Fair Rookie Food Of The Year Is ...

... not a food.

First of all, I apologize for sending this out with one day left in the Fair.  Things are still shitty at home, where I don't feel safe, and I frankly am not writing this with full focus.  However, I also believe that I've been delayed in naming a Rookie Food Of The Year because, for the first time in a long time, there doesn't seem to be a consensus pick, at least not until now.  There have been a lot of raves, but I am looking for unanimity (or near-unanimity) from every single website that reviews new State Fair foods, and there simply wasn't one this year.  Maybe this speaks to the "Pitchforkian" scrutiny that comes with the popularity of new foods there; people declare themselves gatekeepers at something they and everybody else loves in order to put their stamp on the foods that uphold the greatness of The Minnesota State Fair.  Or, this speaks to how each food simply didn't pass everyone's muster.  Or, there are so many new foods that some sites simply didn't review them.

Someone has put out a spreadsheet trying to aggregate the reviews to come up with a winner.  Unless a website was added, the overall winner there is the Somali fries of Oasis Grill & Hoyo Sambusas, which, I have to say, Dara Moskowitz Grumdahl of Minneapolis/St. Paul Magazine did not like.  (She instead gave kudos to the restaurant's other new food, the sambusas.)  I wanted to try it, but I didn't have time before the Atmosphere & Friends concert on the first Saturday, and this is the Midtown Global Market stall, the only place on the Fairgrounds that splits its spot with two vendors taking either the front or back half of The Great Minnesota Get-Together.

So, I am going to kind of place this by ear and give this award to something that, from every place I've seen that has reviewed it, has raved about it: The beer ice cream.  Technically it's called the Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer, and the proprietor of LuLu's Public House seemingly invented it.  Beer (in this case a sour called Berliner Weisse from Pryes Brewing) was somehow turned into a sorbet.  It's served in a cone, but gosh, no kids can eat it.

I got it twice.  It's a technical marvel.  It looks like ice cream and it takes like beer.  Also, and this is huge for me, it doesn't melt and run onto your fingers.  But the taste is kind of off.  I like sours, which is what this is, and this tastes like a sour, but I didn't completely enjoy it.  Maybe the visual of an ice cream cone is making my mind form expectations of how what I was eating should taste like, and since it doesn't, I am a bit disappointed.  But still, I liked it enough, and how the guy pulled off what he pulled off is something that should be around for years to come.

Both My Fucking Parents warned me to never sleep in this new bed without showering first.

I got home, I watched TV, and I fell asleep, in this new bed, without showering first.  I thought about it; I went to work and to watch my alma mater at a bar last night.  But I was tired.  And that is more important than fucking showering.

So fuck them, goddammit.

And Now The Storage Unit Is Going To Be Under New Ownership

I dropped by my storage unit after My Fucking Parents went fuckin' crazy on me.  I wanted to rent a second storage unit long-term because My Fucking Parents are forcing me to take my shit out of the house.  And that's when I got hit with another haymaker: The guy who I was speaking with, who was caretaking the site along with his wife and dog, are being moved out.  The owners of the place have sold it to a local company.  And because of that, any new rentals are for this month only; the changeover occurs next month.

Goddammit.  This feels like one fucking thing on top of another, but even if My Fucking Parents hadn't gone crazy on me, this has become a huge fucking issue.  That's because the guy I spoke to on Tuesday believes this new company is going to jack up prices.  They might not allow me to buy a year in advance in order to get a brake on rates; they might go month-to-month, which apparently is the trend with storage unit companies these days.  Finally, I don't think these guys have a good reputation.  In fact, there is no reason these guys can't break the contract I have right now, which is that I have my unit paid through March.  They might blow it up, jack up my rate, and make me pay by month.

Since I got hit by this bad news, I have been scrambling, fucking scrambling, to find a new spot.  I realize that I had it really good with the place I'm at now.  I was able to lock in long-term rates, the money I spent on average is way less than quotes I'm seeing now, and the people who mind the area are nice and cool and easy to deal with.  There is no guarantee I can find anything similar.  And if these guys muscle me out of the unit I've had there for years and I don't have a backup lined up, I am so, so fucked.

First My Fucking Parents take everything I hold dear from me, and now I get kicked out of my storage unit?  Can't lie; this is really, really hard for me to deal with.

Addendum To: My Fucking Parents Are Fucking Psychos

What I truly hate about my parents, especially right now, is that they do things, and make me do things, with no advanced warning.  Yesterday, I was woken up by both My Fucking Mother and My Fucking Father to help them clean up my former bedroom, which, for some goddamn reason, is going to be the bedroom My Fucking Mother recuperates in when she gets knee surgery.  She says she can only go up the stairs after surgery and not down.  That's bullshit.

Anyway, even though this surgery hasn't even been scheduled yet, they both decided, out of the blue, that they're going to redesign it.  And that meant both shitty parental units woke me up to move heavy, heavy things around.  That was bad enough because I had a long day working a Gopher football Game.  But when My Fucking Father decided to bang his hammer to get the bedframe aligned, I sighed loud enough for My Fucking Mother to lose her goddamn mind.  "I do everything for you!  I cook and clean and give you beds!  And I ask you to do this one thing, and you get so mad!"  And I realized yesterday that she is a fucking toxic narcissist.  It has always been about her, her, her.  And after years of insulting me, acting hurt over shoving gifts in my face for which I didn't ask is the ultimate sign of mental manipulation.  And she and My Fucking Father tore my bags into shreds because they wanted to get into a locked part of my desk.  They call me unreasonable???

I don't bother arguing with either of them anymore because they can't speak English well enough to understand my nuanced emotional points.  Now, I don't bother arguing with them because they are too goddamn narcissistic to see how hypocritical dicks they are.  Fuck them both.  If they want to throw me out of the house for throwing my stuff on the floor, they have to kill me.  What assholes.

My Fucking Parents Are Fucking Psychos

My fucking parents made me clean my room, then they cleaned it themselves.  Their excuse was to give me a new bed.  I think they wanted me to remove all my stuff instead.

I would kill them if I knew how I would get away with it.

I got home and saw much of my shit thrown in the trash and the recycling bin.  Had to retrieve some of it, but goddammit, those retired motherfuckers cleaned me out so much I have to let things go.

But I had no idea how fucking crazy they are to clean everything.  They didn't tell me they wanted to move the desk around until yesterday morning.  That desk has a locked compartment.  I replaced the porn that was in there (thank Buddha) with the booze I kept around that I couldn't get around to finishing.  I was deathly scared that they would find a key and open it up.  And when I came home and Father asked for the key to that compartment (I lied to him and said I didn't have it), I was relieved they didn't get in but was scared that at some point they would be fucking crazy enough to try and find a key to get in.

So for the rest of the night I was trying to figure out a way to open the compartment without them knowing, then figuring out a way to get the booze into a bag, then sneak the booze out of the bag into my car and into storage.  I concluded that there was no way because they both have ears like the Bionic Woman and they would know that I do in fact have a key.

I had to go through my things because My Fucking Mother ordered me to, that bitch.  While I was going through them, I saw two torn-up bags.  These are the kind you get at the Fair, the light kind, made out of polyester or something, and they looked like a rabid got chewed through them.

I had to ask my fucking parents what happened.  They pulled the bags through that locked compartment in my desk.  They were so fucking determined to get into that compartment that they decided to fucking tear up bags.

That's not all.  They left for me several bags for me to go through.  I was going through two of them when I saw the bags.  Another one, that was out in the living room, was filled with the booze I put in that compartment.  I put those bottles in those bags, and these vicious motherfuckers were able to tear through the bags and pull out the bottles, and then put the bottles in the living room.

It goes without saying that this is a goddamn massive invasion of privacy.  They wanted to see what was inside my compartment that fucking badly?!  This reminds me of the time they came home from Vegas and didn't tell me.  Huh, I'm still fucking scarred after that.

I guess I can look on the bright side and note that they don't seem to care that I drink.  Whatever, man, these people are fucking psychotic, and they have respect no boundaries from me.

Not like I have before, but I can't trust these fucking people.  No goddamn way.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: United FC (Last Week: -1).  Once again the Loons take the top spot largely because they usually play only one Match per Week.  But what a Match, and what a time for a Win to come.  MNUFC broke open a 1-1 halftime Tie with Goals by the workhorse Robin Lod and revelation Joaquin Pereyra to win at Real Salt Lake, 3-1.  That keeps United FC ahead of Vancouver for second in the West and just three Points behind san Diego for the lead.  But they get the top spot in this screening Week's WMNSS.

And yet this has been a tumultuous time for the Loons.  The Transfer Window is about to close up, and this may have been the most dynamic Transfer Window in the organization's history.  They signed five players, but appear to say goodbye to their Striker, Tani Oluwaseyi, who is on his way to La Liga Side Villarreal.  The Loons are getting about $8 million for Oluwaseyi, the most in Loons history for a transfer, so it was difficult to say goodbye.  But apparently he has always wanted to play in Europe, so he's getting his chance now.  Too bad he can't stay on loan through the end of the season here; he is one of the team's main goalscorers (obvi), and I am quite worried about my team's scoring punch once he heads across the pond.  By the way, a Turkish team named Trabzonspor wanted to acquire Pereyra, and for a really good price, but the organization said no.  For someone who plays Pereyra's spot, he has been quite valuable here, and unless United FC were blown away, it appears he is going to stay here.  Good news for the team and for Loons fans.

Host Portland Saturday night.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  Started out the week losing at a suddenly scary Atlanta outfit, 75-73 Thursday night.  They had to play the next night in Indiana, and they rebounded from their Loss (it helps that Caitlin Clark is still hurt) by defeating the Fever, 95-90.

They also played both Games without Napheesa Collier, who was still nursing her ankle injury.  She finally played in Sunday night's reverse fixture with Indiana, and damn, is she a revelation: 32 Points and nine Rebounds in a 97-84 blowout victory.  The Transitive Property makes you think that if the Lynx had Collier in the lineup, that Loss to the Dream would be a Win and that close victory over the Fever would be a blowout.  Best of all, Sunday's performance alone quieted all those who were lobbying for the MVP candidacies for Las Vegas' A'ja Wilson, Atlanta's Alisha Gray and Phoenix's Alyssa Thompson.

Minnesota leads Atlanta by six Games for The Best Record In The WNBA, so it looks like they have home-court in the bag.  They just now have to stay healthy as they host Seattle tomorrow/Thursday night, visit Connecticut Saturday night host Paige Bueckers and The Bastard Detroit Shock Labor Night.

#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -4).  Routed Northern Illinois at Robbie Sunday afternoon, 4-0, which is real good, but dammit, that Loss to ten-player BYU back on the 14th still sticks out to me.  If you get rise above mid-major conferences, I still think this side will have problems.  So a result similar to the one against the Cougars might happen when the U. faces Marquette tomorrow/Thursday afternoon.  That ends their season-beginning four-Match homestand; Labor Afternoon they have their first true road Game when they play at Brown.

#-4: Twins (Last Week: -3).  I was driving around last/Tuesday night after my parents told me I had to wake up early this/Wednesday morning because they're bringing in a new bed for me.  I was not happy about that.  I, in fact, was pissed.  I just wasn't able to articulate why, and even though I had to visit my alumni game-watching bar, I used that trip as a reason why I am so mad.  I thought it was just I was told to wake up earlier in the morning than I already have to, which I don't like at all.  But I realized that I was told to clean up my room and do chores I didn't ask for on a day's notice.  Look, I could use a new bed, and hey, if they want to pay for it, I won't stop them.  But if you are telling me I have to rearrange my room (and this might be a backdoor plan by My Fucking Father to throw away my stuff) less than 12 hours after you tell me this news, goddammit, I am going to be pissed.  I can't even get a fucking day to process this shit?

So I was thinking all this while listening to the Twins on the radio sleepwalk their way to another Loss, this time in Toronto.  But avast!  A 4-3 deficit heading into the top of the Ninth Inning turned into a 7-4 lead, and new Closer Justin Topa was able to close it out!  Nice fight, Twins!

Unfortunately this capped off a 2-5 Week that includes a sweep at home courtesy of the (blank) Athletics and dropping two-of-three at the White Sox.  This team still ain't going anywhere.  After finishing up tonight/Wednesday night at the Blue Jays, they come home to host the Padres for three starting on Friday, then host the White Sox for four Games beginning Labor Afternoon.

#-5: Gopher volleyball (NEW SEASON!!).  Unlike my alma mater, at least the U. volleyball squad doesn't flinch against major competition.  The 11th-ranked Gophers started their Year participating in the AVCA First Serve tournament Monday night against ninth-ranked Texas A&M (?!) ... and unfortunately they fell in four Sets.

And these defeats to clubs supposedly as good as them are what scares me.  Despite the apparently sellout the entire program has for the season, I think there is a malaise that has settled on it.  They have yet to make it to the second weekend of the NCAA Tournament under Keegan Cook, and I'm not sure the players he has now can push them past that obstacle, let alone getting and winning a championship.  If it's another first weekend exit for the U., can they say that they're still a very good volleyball program?  I think not.

They host a tournament at Maturi Pavilion (although it's not the Diet Coke Classic) this weekend.  They play Cal Poly Friday, Ball St. Saturday and St. Thomas Sunday.  That should be three easy victories.

Did It -- Worked Half A Day!!!

It's been a general rule that Mondays are the most hectic for me at work, but that hasn't been true all the time.  But recently, with the staff shortages and the decisions to cut off work after such a time and, more importantly, saving up all the work from the weekend, lately that adage has become true -- with a vengeance, if that's even possible.

I don't know why, but there was a huge backup last week, the likes of which I don't think we have come out of.  But the company started to put their noses to the grindstone over the weekend and yesterday/Monday, so I was saddled with a shit ton of work.  So much so that I did what I once thought impossible but recently felt was inevitable: I stayed for 12 hours at work.  And the thing is, I'm still behind.  There was so much damn work I had to catch up on over the weekend, plus all the new stuff that the lab was able to catch up on yesterday/Monday, that I just had to leave with most of it untouched.  There were many replies I simply didn't get to.  I did the most important thing, namely looking at every new form that came across my path.  After that?  Heh, I only had time to do so much.

I cannot put it past my boss that he will blow a gasket over me staying half a day.  It feels almost like it's against company policy to work that much.  Then again, he asked me to come in to work Sunday, and he was open-ended about both when I could come in and for how long I could work.  This might be an indication that he knows that there's a shit ton of work to catch up on, so overtime might not just be allowed, might not just be accepted, but in fact required to get back on track.  If that's the case, well, I'm just doing my part.

And the damndest thing of all is I might have to pull another half-day today/Tuesday.  I am going to come to work already behind because of all the e-mails I had to leave from yesterday/Monday.  And I still think there's a bunch of stuff in the lab they need to plow through.  Being behind the 8-ball from the jump, plus getting more work during the day than I usually would?  Man, I could be in for a repeat long day.  But hopefully my boss won't get on my case for that, either.

RIP Car (For Real For Real)

OK, so on Thursday, apparently the tow truck driver called Father, but he didn't pick up because he doesn't answer calls from phone numbers he is not familiar with, which is completely understandable.  But the driver apparently was outside the house when he called, and since Father didn't answer, he drove off.

I got around to calling to ask what's up, and they rescheduled for today/Monday.  This time I added my phone number as a back-up in case My Father didn't pick up again.  But this failsafe probably means that the car is going to be taken away, from my life, for real now.  And so, because this is the last last last time, yesterday/Sunday afternoon (before I headed off to overtime at work and then to Palmer's and downtown) I did my OCD ritual of sitting in all four seats of my old car, touching everything inside the car, taking five deep breaths, and mediating (or trying to meditate) for 70 seconds before moving on.  I've done this three times now, and I try to give it the reverence it deserves.  They're hauling away my first love and my means of freedom for so long, after all.  But at this point, frankly, this feels similar to all the talk leading up to Grandmother being forced to leave the house for the memory care home.  I hated doing it, but deep down I knew it was the right thing to do, and going through the trauma of anticipating losing someone (in this case something) so near and dear to me has worn me down to the point where I just want it to be fucking over.  In a way that's giving up, and I hate it, but it feels like it's time.  Well, it was supposed to be time on Thursday, but I'm sure that today really is time.  Maybe.

Went to the Fair again (second of four, hopefully) last/Saturday night.  Yeah, the babes continue to be out in force, thank the Lord.

I did not go out to Palmer's last Sunday after all.  I just couldn't see myself transferring from the light rail to the bus that was there because of light rail construction.  So I am taking yet another shot at seeing him tonight.  It's weird going out this time of year and not go to the State Fair, I'll be honest.  That's the gravitational pull of the Fair.  But there are only three more Sundays to see him before Palmer's shuts down, and the ensuing Sundays will only get more packed.

Funny: I had never even heard of Cornbread Harris playing (for free) every Sunday at Palmer's until my friend, who I wanted to see all summer but couldn't until last month, told me about it.  She is the one, in fact, who suggested we go.  But for the past few Sundays, when I said I would be going, I asked if she was going and she said she couldn't.  So I am now enthusiastic for something another person suggested, and now that person won't be going.  Ironic, isn't it?

Can't Find The Time To Get My Eyes Checked

It's been two years, and sometimes I feel as though I have the wrong prescription, so for the past couple months (off and on), I have tried to make an appointment to get my eyes checked.  But the place I went to the last couple times appears to have closed.  I could go to another eye place at the mall close by me, but they don't seem to have a good time for me to come in, at least not for the next week and a half.  Also, and maybe I should expound on this in another blog post, things have gotten really, really bad at the mall close by me, and it makes me think I don't want to go there anymore.  So, I have checked into dates and times at another mall, one close by my work, but the earliest ones come in the workweek -- not in the late afternoon or evening but during the afternoon, when I'm, you know, at work.  There are weekend times, but I don't want to go all the way out there just to come back to eat.

With summer just about gone, I am feeling some urgency to get this done.  I did pay for vision insurance this year, after all.  Hope to find a good date and time soon.

Addendum To: My Fucking Father Is Really, Really Pissing Me Off Right Now

My Fucking Father didn't tell me to clean my room or take a shower last/Friday night.  Probably happy that I came home straight from work.

He's still controlling, uncomfortably so for someone who thinks he can still boss people around.  But there is one thing this week that is a good idea.  I have about two dozen baseball caps, and even though I have a hat rack, it can't fit all of them on it.  Also, you need these plastic clamps to hang them, and a lot of them have gotten too loose to hold up a hat.  So what I have done, for the longest time, is just throw them onto the drawer where I put all my shorts and t-shirts and pajamas and stuff.  It takes up a lot of space, but really, I didn't want to think about where or how else to arrange my caps.

One day this past week I came into my room and saw that nearly all of my caps were hung up on my hat rack.  I knew My Fucking Father infiltrated my bedroom again.  But I have to admit that he did something that was ingenious.  Do you know those clothes hangers that are clips on both ends?  He took a half-dozen of them, hooked my hats in them, then hung them on the rack.  Now, he hung them by the brims and not by the crowns (you're supposed to "fold" the baseball hats so that the back of them invert and fold in behind the front), plus he hung a couple hats on a couple of the hangers instead of just one, which is my preference, and my hat rack is now bursting with caps that still look sloppily arranged.  But after making sure two of my hats are hung on each hanger and that they're all hooked the right way, only four of them are still just thrown on my drawer.  I gotta say that My Fucking Father came up with something very, very clever.

He's still invading my privacy, though.