She Caught A Glimpse!

So I showed ******e it.  Finally, after decades and decades of being a good boy, and even though it was in a room with open doors where anybody can just walk in and see us grooving on a chair, I whipped it out.  Kinda.  I made sure no guys were looking in, and I maneuvered my thing through my open fly, but I stuck out the head because if I took out my whole shaft (as hard as it was -- showing a woman it for the first time remains a galvanizing experience for me even in my advanced age!) and someone interrupted us, I might be fucked.

So, ******e stood up from grinding me, turned around, was talking to me about something (we had years of catching up to do -- seriously, I hadn't seen her since before the pandemic at My Favorite Stripclub [Non-Cover Version], RIP), looked down ... and was, well mildly aghast at what she saw.  She didn't so anything with it after she tucked my thing back in ... but, she said that next time, if I had enough money and if I had protection with me. ...

Not too long ago I texted my thanks to her.  There's to be another party at the place I was at in north Minneapolis two weeks from now.  From what we tried to negotiate, I don't know if I could afford taking her upstairs, if you know what I mean.  However, a blast from the past may be at this party: ****e, whom I swear I blog posted about sucking my you-know-what after flashing her out of the blue might be at this party.  When she did that to me, she didn't ask for any more money than the $20 we were supposed to do, so she might be, let's say, more agreeable to terms that won't permanently damage my wallet.  At any rate, I think I'm back in the saddle again!

Stay At Home? No. Sexytime Jag It Is!

Despite probably not having the money to do so, it has been a while since I've gotten my pee-pee touched.  And it always seems as though invitations to stripper parties coincide with booty texts from my stripper girlfriends where they go, "Hey, I'm lonely, you wanna cum over?"  Now, in times like these I also get a little horny, so I might also be texting my stripper girlfriends where I go, "So, you wanna jerk me off or what?"

I am in that spate now.  It actually started from a text I got from ***u** Tuesday afternoon, whom I haven't heard from in a long while.  She has teamed up with her usual partner in crime, ****e, to host a party at this guy's place in north Minneapolis.  It's fun times.  Unfortunately, it was last/Thursday night, and after all the nights I've gone out and spent money this week, I really, really just wanted to veg out at home.  Also, ***u** owes me $50 because she was desperate for groceries for her children, and I don't feel comfortable seeing her for anything until we address that.  I usually have fun times with her and ****e over there, but this didn't seem to be the right time.

I was going to text another of my stripper girlfriends, ******e, if I could drive down to south Minneapolis this weekend so she can give me a handjob.  Well, she texted me out of the blue Tuesday evening, telling me that her partner in crime, my beloved ***e*, will be in town from Wisconsin.  I owe those two a double team, and neither one of them owes me money, so I arranged an appointment.  I really wanted Sunday afternoon, but ***e* is back on the road by then, so even though I really wanted to stay in, tonight/Friday night is it.

(Something changed, however.  After work yesterday/Thursday ******e asked me to call her, which is something she has never asked me to do.  It was important-ish: ***e* cannot make it.  However, she still wants to double-team me with another one of her friends, someone I have never met.  ******e says her friend is cute and that she is down for whatever.  I am leery, but I need to expand my options of whores.  Plus, I am perverted as fuck right now, so I said yes, I'll accept the substitute.)

And on top of that, I texted *****y Wednesday night to see if we could get together this weekend, too.  She is the hot one where we have missed connections a few times now, most recently a couple weeks ago.  What might help facilitate a tryst is that I have Monday off -- how I realized that should be the subject of my next blog post -- and in fact that would be ideal.  However, after saying I had both Sunday and Monday free, she immediately told me to come over Sunday at 12:30.  It's a date.

You know, I just realized that because of my dick, I am going to spend money, and a lot of it, today/Friday and Sunday, two days I had hoped and initially planned on staying home and not spending any money.  I'm in a desperate quest to see if I can still get it up, and if I can still derive pleasure from sexual contact.  Hope so, and I hope the money's worth it!

I Am Back On OnlyFans. No, I Don't Know If I Can Handle Myself

Yeah, so I'm back spending money on OnlyFans.  When I was vacationing in St. Louis, I got bed dances from a stripper who told me she was on OF.  I have never had that happen before, even though it stands to reason, and I have been feeling kind of guilty not subscribing to her until now, especially since she gave me her phone number in order to text me her OF URL.

It has been six weeks, and like I've said before, my principle is that if I spend something one day on one thing, I need to spend something on another thing.  I got my hair cut after work, and remembering that I used my credit card on only one thing on Monday, I made sure I used my card yesterday/Wednesday on at least another thing ... even though I had already gotten McDonald's before going into work.  So last night I subscribed to her, at least for a month.  I was worried that it hadn't been updated with new stuff, and her last entry was earlier this month, namely a selfie of her baring her tits, probably at the strip club I saw her at.  Many of her photos on her OF is just her with her showing off her boobs, either at work or at her house/apartment.  Not bad, although I could stand to see her bush.  More photos, too.  I texted her that I finally subscribed to her last/Wednesday evening, but I have yet to hear back from her.

Meanwhile, there was another woman who I am Facebook friends with for which I also bit the bullet and subscribed to her OF.  She is one of those types of women I am looking for: A bodybuilder who's not afraid to get naked for the camera.  I was once hesitant to subscribe to her because her monthly cost is way more than I have nearly always paid for a photo on OF.  But she is ripped like crazy, man, and if getting into her account means she shows off the rest of her hot body, it would be worth it.  So I paid the $20 for just one month ... and goddamn, she shows everything and she is a fucking perv while she's showing it!!!  I haven't gotten hard to a woman like that in a long time, and I probably will go back on her OF and touch myself after I blog post this.

I last paid for something on OnlyFans late in July.  I didn't stop myself; rather, that was around the time the credit card I was using expired.  I would have to input a new credit card in order to pay for things on OF.  It was getting difficult for me to stop paying for photos and videos on OF.  It was costing me more and more money, and I was getting addicted.  Thus, the barrier of needing to sit down and add a credit card to my OF account was enough to wean off of it.  Till now, of course.

I don't think I learned anything.  I did see my credit card expenses lighten after getting off OnlyFans (so to speak), but I haven't really stopped spending.  And now, because I feel obligated to a stripper who I had just met but to whom I flashed my penis, I have not only paid for something on OF but (I am guessing this policy is new since July) added my credit card to my account so the company and probably the federal government can track me.  And this credit card won't expire for years.

For this bodybuilder I have already disabled monthly renewal.  If I didn't do that, I would figuratively be cumming in her hand until I am broke.  For this other stripper ... well, I haven't stopped renewal yet, but if I don't hear back from her, it will be easy for me to.  But hey, we shared a moment and have a simpatico.  It'll be a tad more difficult to not pay for her OF.  And then the question becomes can I stay away from the other hot women on that site?  Honestly, I don't know.  And that might ruin me.

Going To A Party I Can't Afford To Go To

So I planned on taking this afternoon off from work because I wanted to make sure I used this month's Hooters coupon.  And then, it just so happened that I was invited to a stripper party.

I thought about not going, and then I thought about going, but I just checked my credit cards and I'm going to leave some over on both for this month, but I'm still going.  It's just a combination of being free this afternoon being a sign of some sort.  Also I owe the host some money.  And ... geez, I'm leaving a lot of money for the credit cards to build interest on for next month.  I really shouldn't go because I can't afford to.

Man, all this plus I missed the streak in Zynga Poker so I'm back down to Day 1/10%, and then I thought I had turned off my alarm because I woke up early enough but I didn't because ... I don't know ... goddammit, this all fucking sucks right now.

Oh, And Another Thing Preventing Me From Building Up My Checking Account ...

... I have to service all my stripper girlfriends.  I arranged to see my ATF at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition) back on Wednesday/Valentine's Day, and even though that fell through, I only postponed seeing her till Tuesday.  Meanwhile, on Tuesday, ******e told me that ***e* is crashing at her place through this/Saturday morning, would I like to be double-teamed, to which I said, "Fuck and yes!"  (They came by last/Friday night.)  And on top of that, Thursday afternoon I learned that ********a, the stripper who now massages me, was coming in from western Minnesota.  When I tried confirming that with her, we hastily arranged a session for this/Saturday afternoon.

So I shelled out money for sexytime with two girls yesterday/Friday, then I have a massage today/Saturday, then I'm going to the strip club Tuesday.  Three huge expenses that involve nudity over the course of four days.  No wonder why I feel like I'm broke.

Three Thoughts

1) It's about that time of the month where I have to pay my credit card bills, and once again I'm carrying over.  Goddamn, I don't know how I rack up so many charges.  No, that's bullshit; I know how I am -- eating out and porn.  I continue to scroll through all the charges I make and I hate myself afterwards.  It's just gotten worse over the past few months, and I don't know if the holidays are an exacerbating factor.  I just think I'm spending more money.

And that's why, hate to say it, I kind of think my parents coming home will help.  They'll make food for me, and they'll insist I stay home.  Those two tactics will help in keeping my money in my wallet.  Unfortunately, does this mean I'll burn through money ... once they're gone?

2) I'm going to be oblique about this.  All's I'm saying is that there are consequences to taking the high road.  Sometimes you have to get down and dirty.  And sometimes there is collateral damage when you're ridiculing someone who deserves it.  Getting all holier-than-thou is letting your real enemies off the hook.  Eyes on the bigger prize, people.

3) This relates to 1) -- namely, even despite all the money I'm throwing away, I am so going to a secret bar after work tonight.  It's not as if it's been a bad week at work, but it's been a long one.  Really, I've been planning and thinking about going after work tonight for about a week.  It's my safe place, and it makes me happy.  And besides, I probably won't be able to go to another secret bar for a few weeks; next Friday I have dinner with this social club, and the following Friday I'll be celebrating Happy Hour with a friend through my alumni club.  So damn my account, I guess.  

You Know What? I'm Not Looking Forward To This Vacation

Yeah, I said it.  It's a vacation to Hawai'i.  How can anybody be so upset that they're going to Hawai'i?  Well, I'm a weirdo, so I'm that upset person.

First of all, and I wonder if I just blog posted about this, I got my credit card statement in the mail the other day, and hoo boy, there's a non-zero chance that I will max out my credit card by the time I come home from this vacation.  I didn't think I spent that much money, but I did, and on vacations all you do is spend even more money.  Fuck me.

Second of all, I am leaving the house on its own for two weeks, in the winter.  I have read up on making sure the thermostat is kept on but not too high (I think 62 degrees is just about right) and to open all cabinet doors to help ensure the pipes don't freeze.  But it's going to be by itself for two whole weeks, and I have no idea what's going to happen at this house while I'm gone.  The pipes could still freeze.  Maybe the alarm will go off an hour after I leave for the airport and it'll be ringing the whole goddamn time I'm gone.  There could be a leak and the basement cold flood for two entire weeks.  And it's possible someone breaks into the house and steals everything.  Who knows?  Nobody's gonna be here to make sure everything's fine.  I hate that, because I am terrified of what condition the house is going to be in when I come back.

Third of all, and this is a corollary to the second of all, I am scared as hell for Father's plants.  I still have no idea how and how frequently I need to water his plants, but I'm pretty sure they won't survive two weeks without water.  Last night I asked my folks if anybody is going to drop in on the house and make sure it's standing while I'm gone.  No, they said, that's not the plan.  I have half a mind to walk over to my sister's (maybe ex-; it's complicated) best friend's house mere yards away from us, give her the key to the house, and ask her and her girl to come in and water the plants ... and make sure no one's squatting in my bedroom.  I have relatives who live close and I'm fairly sure that not only do my parents not want them to check on the house, they don't want me telling them I'm going on vacation.  So these plants, these things My Fucking Father has yelled at me often enough over the years to make me believe he cares more about them than he ever did about me, are just gonna die because my sister's graduating.  And there's nothing anyone is going to do about it.

Finally, and this is probably worse than anything, I am spending two solid weeks with my family.  My sister and brother-in-law, they're cool, but I think I'll be living with them, and they keep saying their place is really small.  The living arrangements have already been made, and I think that I and my folks will be staying with them, and my sis and bro-in-law keep saying it'll be an extremely tight fit.  That will only exacerbate any negative feelings that might bubble up between us as we are lashed together for two entire weeks.  Yeah, it's a vacation, but another way of looking at it is we're being forced to have fun on multiple occasions every day for (say it with me now) two whole fucking weeks.  This damned family has argued on long vacations before and road trips before; how will this be any way different besides the possibility we'll be yelling at each other in flip-flops on Waikiki Beach?

Seriously, the family dynamics are toxic enough that a spark might explode this powder keg of a family.  My sister and brother-in-law remain the most normal segment of the family, but they're under the stress of hosting six other people and organizing events for two whole weeks.  Mother and Father are their usual fucked-up selves, and they may be even more fucked-up than usual because they're on vacation and will use their status as the elders to get what they want, no matter how expensive or problematic their ask may be.  And shit, there's my brother, sister-in-law and niece.  I am convinced that all they do is fight with each other.  I can't imagine it getting any better when they're stuck together with each other and the rest of us goblins for two solid motherfucking weeks.

Now, consider that, and then consider that I don't like most of these people and will be set off based on  one nasty comment, and then you'll possibly understand how afraid I am that this "vacation" will go sideways.  By that I mean that if one of my parents ask if I have a girlfriend yet, I might throw my drink in their faces.  And if My Asshole Brother gives me the silent treatment when I need to ask him something, I might take a knife and slash him across the face to let him know I won't be ignored.  I am dead serious that there is a non-zero chance that one member of this family doesn't survive the vacation.  By Day 12 of this traveling disaster I could kill someone, or someone could kill me.  But I'm not going to say it can't happen.

All this bullshit is what I have to look forward to on vacation.  Now, I'm sure that if I was planning this vacation -- if I wanted to go to Hawai'i -- I would feel different about all this.  Maybe my bad thoughts and violent ideations over this vacay revolves around my umbrage that someone else planned this trip and not me -- that, moreover, I am being summoned at the behest of another, even if it is my sweet and smart sister, even if it is to Hawai'i.  I don't like to be told what to do, even if it is going on a vacation to somewhere warm in the middle of winter.

So this is what I have to look forward to.  Oh, and I need to buy swim trunks.  Double oh, and I have to prepare for a family photo shoot on the beach.  I have no idea why we need to hire Glamour Shots to document this graduation, but we are.  And each family segment will get a mini-photo shoot, which means there's my sis and bro-in-law, my parents, my bro and sis-in-law and niece ... and me.  Just me?  Really?  And I still have to pose for this when I don't have anybody to take a photograph with?  Isn't that ... pathetic?  Do I have to treat this like my senior photoshoot, because I never did a senior photoshoot.  And what is taking pictures of me going to entail?  Am I going to, like, pose next to a rack of surfboards or something?  Jesus fucking Christ, this is going to be awkward as fuck. ...

Amping Up My Fucking (Noun, Not Adjective/Curse Word) Schedule

Partly because my parents are home, partly because I have been broke for some time, and partly because I've been too busy working, I haven't gotten around to parties or gotten my fuck on.  I have had to be more disciplined, but frankly, it felt good to get away from the stress of not knowing if I had the money to indulge in what had become, when I was going to parties literally every week, an obsession.

But man cannot live on bread alone.  And that tryst when ****e booty-called me a couple weeks ago kickstarted my interest in paying for sex again.  Plus I've replenished my funds, the night test scoring job is over, and I think I can sneak out of the house from time to time.

It has felt like the invitations to parties (though not necessarily the parties) have dried up, but thankfully I still get a few, and to make sure people know that I am still interested, it was time to take someone up on her offer.  So tonight I am going to a house party that is in the same town as I.  Five chicks, three of them I know, none of them I'm sure will do anything besides lappers, but still, I want to try.

One of them, who I have known for some time, just got into bodybuilding, and a couple weeks ago competed in an event in Duluth.  She posted some pictures of her cut, raw body online, and goddamn, I got so hard looking at her, especially the one where she's onstage and turned around to show her bikini thong and that tight ass of hers (apparently in these competitions all women are supposed to where thong bottoms to show off how ripped their glutes are).  I've gotten LDs from her before, but she has never shown an inclination to touch my pee-pee or do any of that shit.  But I don't care; if she's there, I'll ask for a lapdance, and if I'm alone in a room with her, I'm whipping it out!

Regardless if I release any "life essence" tonight, I think I will on Monday.  I've gone back-and-forth with another woman, whom I last saw back in the fall way down in the other part of town, about doing a 1-on-1.  After some haggling (where she warned me she won't do me for the price we agreed to ever again), we are going to meet during her lunch break.  Yes, she is going to zip out of work, go back to my place where I should be waiting, jerk me off and hopefully suck me off till I ejaculate, clean up, then head back to work.  Now that I write that it doesn't seem so romantic, or even doable.  But I want a 1-on-1 with her, and if she accommodate me this far, I'll give it a shot.

I hope I don't deplete my money too much because I'm back to my fuckin' ways.  But damn, my penis needs some lovin', and with the coming of the heat in the weather, I feel as though I can schedule some rock-out-with-my-cock-out time on the regular.

Losing As Trauma

Went to an MNUFC watch party just now at a swanky spot in downtown Minneapolis.  I don't have much money, but I really needed a haircut, and since I spent money for the cut, I decided to spend more by going to a game with fellow Loonies and having myself a beer.

For the second game in a row (the first being Saturday's tilt against NYCFC that opened Allianz Field), United FC were involved in a back-and-forth barn-burner ... and also gave up the final Goal.  Against NYCFC it was the one that made the match a draw.  This time around, vs. Toronto FC, it was one that made the match a loss -- one where they took the first lead, coughed up two Goals to fall behind at Halftime, scored two Goals to get back up on top, then give up the final two Goals to go from winning three Points to winning zero.  Oh, and two of our guys got red-carded in the dying moments of the game at BMO Field.

And frankly, it has soured my mood ever since.  One of the lingering thoughts I have in my head is, "Why in the hell am I spending so much money on a team that sucks?"  I'm not a die-hard.  I may be a season-ticket holder, but if the losing continues like this for the next ... oh, year or two, why should I stay one?  I get no joy from my team losing games, especially in the way they did tonight.  This feels like throwing my money, which I don't have much of right now, down the sewer drain.

You know what?  This is not an unfamiliar feeling.  I may be a STH for the first time ever with the Loons, but I have paid a pretty penny for big games from Minnesota sports teams, and more often than not ... OK, usually my teams lose.  And I get the same humiliating, traumatic feeling walking out of the stadium or arena like I have now: Why in the fuck do I do this to myself?

Listen to The Common Man Progrum every day, and he came up with the acronym AVATAR, a "syndrome" which stands for Anticipatory Vikings ... I don't remember the rest.  But it has something to do with living and dying with the Vikings to the point where defeats mean your day, and possibly your life, is ruined.  Common's point is, Why in the hell are you allowing a sports team, consisting of people who don't know you even exist, to affect you so deeply?

He's right.  I have, uh, ALATAR syndrome, bad, and right now I can't shake it.  Dan Cole's cure is to just let go, even turning off the TV and not listening, so it's easier to stop caring about Twin Cities teams that'll only break your heart.  I should take his advice, even though, as an STH, it's -- well, it's impossible.  But really, more dumbshit losses like this and you're damn right I'll walk away.

Broke And Tired

Staying up to blog this.

Have to wake up early tomorrow morning for my trip to Dallas.  No rest for the wicked; I basically hit the ground running, trying to get to the TCU baseball game, then going to Hooters, then the hotel (and maybe resting up) before going to the Hard Rock Cafe and a strip club.

That's gonna cost money, money I still don't have.  Just realized that I needed to pay off my state taxes through the Internet, which I did, but now I have less money in my bank accounts than all those times I complained about not having any money in my bank accounts.  How in the hell could I have a full-time job and be in such debt?!

Plus I'm not entirely packed for the trip, and I feel as though I will forget to pack something.

I'm starting to not make sense again.  Time for shuteye.

Taxes This Year

Because of my impending trip and the winter storm I'm currently hunkering down for, I finished my taxes earlier than I have ever done them.  It feels good to get it out of the way; after lining up for more than an hour just to get a goddamn stamp, I have since never filed on Tax Day.  It is good to get it out of the way, even though it was by necessity.  Still, it really sucks -- not just taxes in general, but these taxes, this year, specifically as well.

I will be honest: I have heard that Trump and the Republicans really did screw over those who have regularly expected a refund around this time of year, but I don't think that has affected me.  For one thing (and I hope this doesn't make me sound like a fucking Republican) you would rather owe than be owed come Tax Day.  When you get a refund, that means that the country has been borrowing your money tax-free; if you owe, you are essentially giving back to the country money that belongs to them, and hopefully all this time you've been using it wisely instead of spending it on hookers and blow, like me.  But I think the more important reason I still am owed by the country this year is because I still don't itemize deductions.  In their sleight-of-hand tax break for millionaires, the Republicans slashed the number of deductions people (mostly middle-class people) can take.  Sure, that eventually meant that ordinary people got to take home more money each payday.  (Oligarchs that Republicans whore for got to take home a hell of a lot more.)  But payback comes when you realize that that mortgage or Earned Income Tax Credit isn't going as far as you thought it would.  So people who expected big refunds will get smaller ones, and those who expected any money back from the federal will instead pay them.  This is what Republicans do: Fuck the common person over.

I'm still taking it in the shorts, however.  While the country owes me, I still have to pay the state.  Minnesota did not resolve their tax tables to coincide with the new tax laws from the federal so that the tax bills for Minnesotans would roughly be as much as a resident would have expected the year before ... or something like that.  Anyway, if the new Republican laws gave me a break, the state, using its old tax tables, did not.  Overall, I owe more than $330, I believe.  And while that sucks -- I have no money now; remember, hookers and blow -- I truly think that taxes are the literal price we pay for a civilized society and functioning government.  Maybe I would be getting more money back this year if Republicans hadn't taken it and given it to the rich.

But that is assuming I did my taxes correctly.  For the first time ever, I got a 1099-MISC, basically a "contracted worker" tax statement.  It stems from the guy who hired me for the Super Bowl and a Vikings exhibition game.  I did not fill out a W-4 Form for him.  Instead, as I found out when I started doing my taxes, in the law's eyes, I am not "working" for him so much as I am an independent contractor.  That means that instead of him (what would be my employer) sending me a W-2 for the year, I get this 1099-MISC.  And since I am only a contractor, he did not pull out the taxes from the wages he paid me.  Instead, the MISC shows me the total amount of money he paid me for those two gigs -- and it's up to me to figure out the tax.

That was the biggest obstacle I had to overcome in doing my taxes this year.  With a 1099-MISC I would have had to fill out both a Schedule C and a Schedule SE; after doing that, I would add the Self-Employment Tax to the 1040, and I certainly would be paying a hell of a lot more than I am now.  On top of that, I don't have the brain power to figure it out.  Now I understand what a pain-in-the-ass contractors -- construction subcontractors, freelance writers, and, most notably, strippers -- have to go through this time every year.  My only saving grace is the requirement, on the IRS page itself, that my wages through my freelance work is "regular and continuous."  I have no idea if this guy is going to hire me again for a different job.  I really don't.  And so, if these gigs are one-offs -- that my work for him is not regular and continuous -- then I don't have to fill out those two schedules but instead can just shove them into Schedule 1.  That would make things a lot simpler.  I just don't know if this will fly with the IRS, as provable as it is.

Other than that, I have to note the radical changes to the federal tax forms.  I haven't been able to use either the 1040A or 1040EZ for a long time, but when I started doing my taxes last week and saw that they have been phased out, I truly bugged my eyes out.  And then I went apeshit when I saw the 1040 was only half a page long (albeit on both sides).  This was the Republicans' enticement to us common folk in order to pass this tax giveaway to the billionaires: You could do your taxes on a postcard, former House Speaker Paul Ryan said.  But doing your taxes simply doesn't mean you save more, as many people have found out so rudely.

Moreover, these tax forms are not more simple.  I am not being backwards when I say this: The 1040 was a lot less complicated last year when it had more spaces.  There are a lot of spaces missing in the new 1040.  I don't know where they all went, but some of them went to these new "Schedules," two of which I had to do.  I see no fucking reason they couldn't have stayed on the old 1040; if they didn't pertain to you, skip over them.  And another thing: There were a couple of spaces on the 1040 where I had to do the math before putting in the number for that space.  There are additions and subtractions you have to make throughout the tax form, and in the old 1040 you would have the spaces to do it, you know?  Like, "Add up Lines x through x"; followed by "Write in amount on Line x from Schedule y"; followed by "Subtract Line z from a" -- stuff like that, you know?  But on the "simpler" 1040, there are no spaces for step-by-step computations.  I had to do the math before putting in the final answer.  That is an open invitation to mistakes, and I know these fucking dirty Republicans are hoping for mistakes because then the IRS will have to audit them, them being mostly the middle class and poor.  This cutting through bureaucracy actually is a trick to shake down the proletariat for more money.

I've vented.

The Urge

I have so many things I want to write about, but they have to be long, and I have no time to blog since I need to wake up early because of the winter storm that awaits my morning commute.  So I'm just going to say that I have this urge to fuck my whore, ****e.  I haven't heard from her in some time, and even if I do get in touch, I won't be able to see her for quite a while.  But I think about her -- her figure, her look, that she cooks for me, that she calls me into her bed and tells me to take my clothes off, that she sucks me then fucks me raw.

I've been getting harassed by a couple girls who want to get with me.  I like one more than the other because that other has been increasingly annoying to deal with.  But frankly, neither of them turn me on.  OK, I should differentiate between the two.  One of them is hella frustrating to deal with and puts me on the clock when I see her.  The other is much nicer, and way more accommodating.  I really do want to see her again, because like with ****e, she pretty much does everything to me and lets me do everything to her.  But ... dammit, I'm not attracted to her.  So even though I have real, ready-made excuses (I don't have the time to see her and I really don't have the money), I am also putting her off because she doesn't float my boat.

But ****e does.  And I want to contact her, just to see how she's doing, even though she'll probably think I want to go to her place and fuck her.  Which I do ... once I have the time and the money.  

I Shouldn't Be Here

Yeah, I talked about it, and I still made it out here with one bar left, but I am writing this from Caffetto right now and sort-of regretting it.  I could be home sorting through my papers, or going through my parents' mail, but I'm not.  Instead I'm blog posting this and maybe buying things on Amazon.

One further regret involves eating.  I made a huge plate of spaghetti (by myself!  And it was decent!) and I don't think I needed to eat anything more than that.  But I went out ... but not just to Caffetto.  I had the urge to walk off the spaghetti and treat myself with ice cream from Milkjam, then "exercising" back to Caffetto (oh yeah -- I also thought about going to the gym, but I decided not to because there were no sports to watch while I'd be exercising), where I used my discount to get a large hot chocolate and a slice of carrot cake.  That's a lot of food for a stomach not necessarily asking for nourishment.  And yet I went out and ate and not one but two different places.

And on top of all that is the ten bucks I spent, the day my total bank accounts went below two grand after I paid off my credit card bill.  I used to freak out when my money ran that low, and yet even with a full-time job I am below that.

Is this self-destructive behavior?

Hearing The Siren Song A Second Time

So, back to this party I went to about, oh, ten days ago.  Bangin' party.  The best part was the roster: Five girls, just the right amount, and all of them smoking hot.  It wasn't too much of a sausage fest, either; of course there were guys there -- otherwise the girls would not be able to make money out of this "party" -- but it wasn't overflowing with them.

Best part, of course, was the action.  All the girls knew the rules of a stripper party like this, so I was able to touch ten titties.  Didn't get to fuck *****a (who just dumped me right then and there in that room without so much as a cuddle, sniff) but she kissed and licked me tip, at least.  Moreover, I got double-teamed -- sort of.  *****y, who had always been a good girl, was uncharacteristically extroverted and even a bit frisky this evening.  She convinced her friend, ***e**, to join her as they did me.  And did they ever do me: *****y unzipped my shirt so both of them could twist my nipples.  And both of them groped me, although *****y did so more than ***e**, and it's not like they pulled my cock out, even though *****y said she would have if there were fewer men there and if the lights were darker.

I recount those encounters because all of three of them are having another party this afternoon.  And I am torn as to whether or not I should go.  One the one hand, I frolicked with these babes just two weeks ago.  For another, this will be at *****a's apartment, and that's hella far away, and I don't know if I want to drive that far.  This will be another occasion in which I will have to shell out a lot of money.  Finally, I don't know if I'm going to get what I got ten days ago.

On the other hand, the timing of this party is perfect.  Ever since I got my job, the chance of me going to a party being held in the early afternoon, rare ever before I got my job, vanished.  I mean, I can't see myself ever taking work off so I could get some early afternoon ass.  But this falls on a Monday, one of my two days off.  It's a sign from the heavens that I should go.  And there's another reason: Maybe, instead of not getting what I got ten days ago, I in fact get more than I got ten days ago.  I mean, all three girls will be acquainted or reacquainted with what I like, and maybe they'll feel more comfortable with me, like I will be with them.  And if that's the case, well, a darkened room with no guys around might give me the chance to free willy, if you know what I mean.

And complicating all this is the random text, out of the blue, I received from *******e, who needed to make some money and believed that me fucking around could provide her with that money.  I think she puts out way less than the other three hotties that will be at this party.  But I feel as though I have to see her because it's been ages since I last screwed around with her.  However, she's been hella flighty; she texted me out of the blue, I text her back, and it's taking her hours to get back to me.

So I am in a double bind, so to speak.  I am still considering going all the way to (well, I might as well tell y'all) St. Paul, and I am still waiting to hear back from this stripper.  So I could go to this stripper, I could go to this party with three strippers, or I could not go anywhere.  Well, damn -- I don't know what the hell to do.

The Carcass Of Herberger's

Today is the last day in the life of Herberger's.  Didn't think it was, but it is.

I last checked into Herberger's last weekend, after I had stopped by the week before and made a mental list of things I wanted and needed.  But even after spending all that much time browsing I decided to hold off and wait to see if I could get a better deal.  I mean, there was a suitcoat that cost $425.  Even at 70% off, I still would have paid around $127.50 -- extraordinary bargain for a coat of that price, but I still couldn't afford it.  And since I hadn't seen prices dip when going into Herberger's before, I thought I had time to time out the bargains, and then swoop in when Herberger's finally throws in the towel and discounts everything, like 90% off.  Then I would get that suit, and that shirt, and that Sinatra-style hat, and that ...

Herberger's had a countdown.  As of last weekend there were 12 days left.  So I had time.

No, I didn't.

After work yesterday/Saturday I went to Herberger's to see if my risk of not buying anything the weekend before backfired on me.  And the answer is, Hell yes, it backfired on me!  The money-conscious, price-pinching vultures that are people picked through all the good items on sale.  There were still things on sale, but it was shit I didn't need.  All the clothing there were ill-fitting ones, for men of grotesque proportions; I think I found pants that were 50x32 and 29x40.  And what would I need pillows for?

Meanwhile, all the things I would have bought were long gone.  The suitcoats I zoomed in on as both fitting and fashionable were nowhere to be found.  (There were two suitcoats left, and both of them were too big for me.)  The Sinatra-styled hats disappeared too; the only ones that even looked that stylish were brown, and they were all too big for my head.  So I gambled that I would be able to come back this weekend and get the things I wanted for a slightly lower price than the weekend prior, and I lost.  I wanted to buy something, anything, at Herberger's, only to commemorate its death in a rapidly deteriorating shopping industry (and, if I may say, shopping mall -- I should blog post about this soon).  I had the wherewithal to buy pants about a month ago in case a situation like this happened; it looks like those are the only items/mementos I will buy there.  I could swing back by today/Sunday, but there's nothing for me there to buy, and besides, I think it's going to feel really weird and sad to shop there.

I guess last workweek, one where my calendar was full of hermetically sealing myself (Monday), taking in two movies (Tuesday), seeing Da Beauty League championship game (Wednesday), attending the first day of the State Fair (Thursday) and watching college volleyball matches downtown (Friday), was the one where the cash-strapped common people decided it was time to buy.  Yes, I ran the risk and I knew it.  But let me state for the record that I was screwed in a way.  You see, Herberger's put up a sign counting down the days until they would close up shop for good.  When I walked out the door last Sunday, they were at 12 days.  And I swear, when I walked back in yesterday/Saturday), it was down to 3 days.  How in the fuck do nine days come off in a matter of a week?!  Unless this is new math, 12-6 does not equal 3.  I think that if Herberger's stuck to its original closing date, whereby they would die on the 31st of August instead of (I think) Monday, the suitcoats and pants I had my eye on would still be there, and then I would decide it was time to whip out the credit card and take them.  But they moved up their death date, and my prized wish list items were spirited away.

And all that's left are weird clothing and the weird people who are about to suck all the marrow out of a virtually dead clothing store by buying that weird clothing at 80% off.

Oh, and by the way: RIP, Herberger's.

I Have How Much In My Checking Account?!?!?!

Whenever I go on a spending binge, I avoid looking at the balance of my checking account because I'm scared of how much I've actually spent and how much I actually have left.  In other words, I nearly always avoid checking my checking account.

But I usually come around to it whenever I sense that I'm getting really, really low.  Such was the case during my two-week "furlough" inbetween jobs last month.  I don't know how it happened -- that's always my excuse -- but it felt as though I had spent an inordinate amount of money over the summer, and so my unemployment, just around the time my credit card bill was due, came at an extremely inopportune time.  And sure enough, when I looked, I saw that I was hovering just above two grand -- my self-imposed Mendoza line between solvency and ... well, I don't know how my left would change if I fell below that.

Well, it's gotten worse.  My only significant change to seeing my bankroll that low is to charge everything until I started getting paychecks at my new job.  But that hasn't stopped my spending.  And something else bad has creeped up on me: I have realized that being paid bi-weekly, instead of weekly as I always have been at my temp jobs (and why is that?) really, really sucks.  Twice the money is nice, but not if I have to wait every other week to get them.  The wait is interminable, and I believe that at least for this cycle and possibly for the next, my paycheck won't come in time for me to use it to pay my credit card bill.

So the reckoning has come.  Some time this past week I checked my checking account and I am below two grand.  On top of that, I actually did some shuffling around with my money.  I actually took $500 out of my PayPal and put it back into my personal account in order to fatten it up and, frankly, to make myself feel better.  Confession: I don't know if all the money I took out of my PayPal is technically mine.

It really didn't matter.  I am below my Mendoza line after I stuffed it with my PayPal money.  Which means that however fallow my account is right now, it actually is $500 dollars worse.  In other words, I have -- gulp ... close to a grand to my name.  Really, it's just a thousand bucks.

I don't know where the money went.  And I have to be honest with myself: If I really cared, I'd stop spending money.  But hey, my parents are away, the State Fair is here, and I need to get a blowjob from someone I haven't seen in months, so I ain't stoppin'.

The only thing I can promise myself is to pay my bills.  Whenever my paycheck comes, I know it'll immediately go back out to pay my credit card bills.  After that I need to replenish (somewhat) my PayPal account, then if there's money left over, I might give some to the alumni club.  And that means I will be ... back to where I am, money-wise.

Good bleepin' Lord, where did all my money go?!

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Saturday, August 11:

• That evening I went to the Pizza Luce Block Party downtown.  One pizza, one beer.  When paying for tickets that convert to the pizza and beer I dropped the change of 50 cents as tip.  total: $100.  (ETA at 2 p.m. on September 8 -- WTF?!  How did I miss this mistake?  Now that it's been so long ago I don't know what the hell the amount was.  Shit.  Uh, I'm going to just say ... $12.  Fuck it.)
• Answered a booty call from ****y.  That day she invited me to the same stripper party that two other girls invited me to.  Couldn't go because I'm broke.  But I made the dumb mistake of asking her if she does one-on-ones, to which she replied, "Can you do it tonight?"  And like a stupid dick, I leaped at the chance.  I mean, it wasn't bad, but I'm totally broke right now.  Eh, I'm so dumb.  HJ from ****y: $100.
• Didn't spend anything on Thursday, so we really start Wednesday, August 8 -- I've been doing my best to avoid using cash until I get paid, and even then it's all going to my credit card bill because I still had to buy stuff and so I put it on my credit card bill.  However, and I don't know if this is a state thing only, but by Minnesota law you cannot use a credit card to pay for lottery tickets.  And since Powerball has gotten into nine digits again, I asked Father if he wanted some and he said yes.  He wanted five; I played one.  That means the total is, natch: $12.
• After getting home Father paid me back for his share of the Powerball, and Infusion of: $10.
• Back to Monday the 6th, where the only EWR was me getting paid at the U. to try and finish up this experiment.  Two hours of listening to bleeps and bloops means an Infusion of: $20.
• On Sunday the 5th I needed to blog, so I went to Diamonds to do so before heading back up Central to catch the last-ever 3M Championship.  The combination of getting up laid, huge traffic because Central was closed down for a street festival, and me trying to finish up my requiem to the 3M Championship led me to spend less than three hours at TPC Twin Cities when I initially wanted to be there for five.  Some things just don't go your way.  Lemonade plus tip at Diamonds: $3.
• To Saturday, August 4 ... I still don't know how scheduling at my new job works.  On Friday I was told that I actually could work on Saturday, this day, even though I was not scheduled to on the training schedule sheet I got before I started.  But I was allowed (according to my supervisor) to work until I reached 40 hours for the week.  That was four hours, so from 9-1.  That meant I had my afternoon free before I went home, showered, then went out to see United piss away a sure win.  Before coming home I took a diversion and went to the inaugural Blue Sun Soda Festival very close to my house.  It was great to see so many families enjoy an afternoon of community bonding.  Too bad the sky was gray.  And too bad it was so popular that I had trouble finding a spot.  But I did, and I bought four tickets, each a quarter, in order to sample all the craft pop forming the backbone of the festival.  Weirdly, though, these tickets had to be taxed, and Blue Sun Soda Shop did not bother us with paying the tax.  They just ate the tax themselves, in the form of loose change they would take from the top of the box where its cash register lain and stuffed it back in the register.  I was kind of worried what would happen if they ran out of change, so on top of the dollar I paid I threw in some of my own change, 25 cents.  I then waited a long time before my street tacos from Elevation 5280 were finally made.  Not bad, but as with all street tacos they were stuffed so much that some invariably fell out.  Annoyed by that.  With tip for the tacos my whole stay there cost me: $12.25.
• On Friday the 3rd Father paid me back for the Powerball tickets I just bought for him, an Infusion of: $10.
• Let us hurl all the way back to Sunday, July 29 ... where Father paid me back, again, for Powerball tickets.  This time around he only wanted one.  I got one as well, but I forgot to take one of them.  Father probably thought I bought both for him, and so he paid me back for both.  I wanted to give him back two dollars, but I figured I would pay for something of his soon.  Haven't done that yet, though.  So, technically, this is an Infusion of: $4.
• To Saturday the 28th, where, in anticipation of starting my job, I went to Moler to get my face professionally shaved by a student.  I always feel better when someone else shaves my face, even though it does cost money.  This time I charged the shave, but I tipped to the guy who shaved me with cash: $4.
• Friday, July 27 -- started My Last Free Day by going to Caribou/Einstein.  Used my points on a free medium coffee, so bagel and tip came to: $3.75.
• I then went to the U. for a research study.  It is a familiar place and experiment: The hearing experiment where I hear bleeps and bloops.  I should go into more depth soon, but it was a blast from the past going back up there.  And I needed the money.  An Infusion of: $20.
• I needed it because I got bamboozled by *****e* to go to her house, where I thought I was going to see her but instead attended a fucking party.  Well, I sort-of got back at her: She was holding a party on August 11 where she was also collecting boxes because she's moving.  I told her I didn't have any money for her, but I did have boxes.  Well, I really thought I did: I have two big boxes, but when I grabbed them, I saw that Father packed them full of toys my parents bought from Toys 'R' Us before they closed for good.  So I ... misled *****e*.  I feel sorry, because I truly thought I had boxes.  But the dick side of me is like, eh.  I'll try and make it up to her by buying boxes later this week.  Maybe.  Anyway, I fucked her for: $100.
• And then I went to My Art Gallery for a new exhibition.  Still good to see it going strong.  A donation of: $3.
• On Thursday the 26th I went to Al's Breakfast.  Try to eat at this place once a year, usually in the summer when it's not overrun by college students.  And thankfully my wait was less than five minutes before someone left.  I got the Jose for the first time ever.  I have always wondered whether Al's has a plate that's considered to be a "signature" dish.  I guess it's this one, even though only one website says it is.  It's good, but everything there is good.  Hope to God it never closes due to gentrification.  With tip: $13.
• I then went to the library to print out the company's offer sheet: 20 cents.
• Then went to St. Paul because I needed to talk to the government about not needing their health insurance anymore.  Don't know how long I was there, so I leaned toward overestimating, and yes, I had about ten minutes (maybe a quarter's worth) of time before I had to leave.  So I stayed, even though I had to get to my experiment at the U.  Total: $1.
• U. experiment, hearing study.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Wednesday, July 25 ... I was not working downtown at this time, but I still had to go there for two things: Having my annual eating date with my friend and getting my shoes shined.  I wanted to do both the morning of a workday, but it didn't work out that way, especially since I was not given a head's-up as to when my assignment with the law firm was over, so I had to take a morning to do both.  My friend paid for my coffee because she makes more money than I do.  Then went to get my shoes shined at Lisa's.  Thank Buddha she's still there, too.  With tip: $15.
• And as is customary, after getting my shoes shined I moseyed over to the Bogart's kiosk to get a doughnut.  With tip: $3.75.
• Had a research study to go to in the afternoon.  An Infusion of: $20.
• That not I went to a party I really should not have gone to.  But the host, *****a, has been good to me and I've felt bad about not going to her parties for a while now.  Plus, ******e was there and I've rebuffed her invitations for a long time too.  I finally bit the bullet, especially since the place where this is was close.  Finally got ******e to a bed, and although I was afraid she wouldn't, she gave me a handjob.  And it felt guuuuuuuuuuud.  With dances for *****a and Barbie, whom I wanted to get an LD from for along time, plus cover and an extra bed charge -- wow, this adds up, doens't it? -- the total cost of this party is: $180.
• Going back to Monday, July 23, where I went to the U. for an experiment.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Sunday the 22nd ... went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition), where I got a dance from Ash, who told me a lot of things about herself.  I feel good that she trusts me.  With coffee and tips: $28.
• On Saturday the 21st I went to the library to produce some invoices for Mother: 20 cents.
• I then went to one of the many breweries around the Twin Cities, Utepils, which had a music festival, reason enough for me to visit.  The Pils was nice.  They advertised a bunch of food trucks, but there were only two.  I bought rib tips from one, but the woman charged me two bucks more than what was posted on their board.  Which is funny, because while I was waiting in line, this woman consistently overcharged everyone who bought one of the truck's BBQ dishes -- and none of them said anything about it.  When I spoke up, she charged me for the price written on the board ... and she did not take my tip.  Fair enough.  Plus tip for the Pils and it all came to: $14.
• On Friday, July 20 I packed in two experiments at the U. on the same day.  Wanted to arrange it so I could immediately go from research study to another, but I couldn't; had a break of about 2 1/2 hours inbetween (maybe?), so I dinked around campus.  The first experiment was a one-off.  An Infusion of: $12.
• The second was, I think, the first time I revisited the hearing lab.  Again, I'll talk about that later.  An Infusion of: $20.
• That night I went to Glam Doll.  Did not get a pourover coffee because I was able to eschew coffee in the morning and I wanted to keep that going.  Got a hot chocolate instead.  Put that and my first donut on my credit card.  The second donut, and the tip, I paid with cash: $3.
• Thursday the 19th ... ****e, oh, ****e -- although I don't have to eat a fucking steak every time I go there, and I'm really skeeved that she has a male roommate that she tends to from time to time.  Oh, well, she is my last whore.
• ****e was trying to clean up the house before I came over.  She doesn't have to do that.  While peeing I found a dime.  An Infusion of: 10 cents.
• On Wednesday the 18th I went to Caribou in the morning.  Used my points for a free mocha.  Got a cookie to go with it.  Rounded up for tip, so it equals: $1.
• Tuesday, July 17 ... Father paid me back for all those lottery tickets I got for him, an Infusion of: $50.
• Oh yeah -- when I was at the gas station buying lottery tickets for Father (and for me), I saw a woman just drop her change on the floor.  And she just left.  Didn't stop to stoop and pick up the change.  You know, it's not much, but it's yours and it's legal tender.  It'll be useful at some point, but she didn't care.  Man, I don't know if that's wise.  So I stopped down to scoop them up.  I don't care, I'm not ashamed, shit.  An Infusion of: 61 cents.

I need to do these more often.  Good through August 11.

Now I Cannot Spend Anymore Money, FR FR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Very Sleepy, And Not Very Horny

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Monday, July 16:

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

Phew!  Good through July 16.