Exercise Or My Stuff?

Today/Wednesday I have the day off.  Well, I need to go to the dentist in the morning, but I don't have anything I have to do after that.  I could finally delve into clearing out my stuff ... but, because the community center is now closed on Sundays for several weeks, tonight/Wednesday night would be a good time to work out.  It's not like I'll get home too late and be too tired to exercise, which is the excuse I always use to not work out after a workday.

Last/Tuesday night I actually got out of work early.  (I think it had to do with mechanical problems down south.  The work that was supposed to come yesterday/Tuesday will come today/Wednesday ... when I'm not there.  Heh-heh.)  I could have gone home and gone through my stuff.  But no, I wanted to celebrate instead by eating Mexican because it's Taco Tuesday.  Then I saw a movie -- The Sheep Detectives, which is a neat movie, but I was going to see Mortal Kombat II.  When I got to the theater, however, they said the movie had already started.  The cashier gave me a showtime a half-hour earlier than the one I saw.  He said I may have been looking at the wrong theater, but I checked my phone -- it said the MKII was starting at 5.  (No matter; I wanted to see it because I thought it was the sequel to the Mortal Kombat film I saw back in 1995.  Tonight I learned that there was not one but two movies between that and this film.  If I missed a flick in a series, I don't feel the need to see the later ones.)

And Monday I got home, but I was, um ... worked over by my ATF.  I wanted to just sit in bed and mentally bask in what she just did to me, so I felt no need to give myself angst by going through my stuff.  Right decision, too.

All's that to say that, once again, I have had ample opportunities to go through the stuff I say I need and want to go through, and yet I don't.  I think the excuses I give are credible.  Still, they're excuses.  And still, my stuff piles up.

I'll go work out anyway.  Got to stay in some sort of shape.

The Last-Ever Meal At Peter's Grill

I started this blog post just with the title.  It was July 3, 2013.

The place closed for good July 29, I think.  I had never been there, but after 99 years, a place that had a solid connection with Old Minneapolis was going to close, and I felt the need to connect to it.  And sure, maybe the irony of being a first-timer to Peter's Grill on its last day was too much for me to resist, but I went and, after a long wait where all the servers were too busy helping others and, I guess, trying to rectify the death of an institution that was a part of their lives for so, so long.

And I think I hesitated to write this blog post for so long because ... well, I eventually forgot.  But I remember taking a picture of my meal, and I wanted to, for the first time, post a picture I took myself in the blog post, but I never learned how to upload a photo onto Blogger.  And then I think I began hesitating as to whether I wanted to put a picture I took myself onto WAF for identity reasons.  Whatever the reason, I don't know where that photo is now; the ones on my cellphone go back only to 2014.

I remember sitting at the bar and I was told that all the food was gone by the time I got there.  I may have played the woe-is-me card because someone, and it very well could have been the owner, heard my sob story, went to the kitchen (and I could see into it from my barstool), and took what appeared to be a prepared dish.  I don't think it was going to be given to a customer; I got the impression that one of the workers prepared it for him or herself, either because they were hungry over their busy day or they wanted something to take home to eat and/or remember Peter's Grill by.  And this guy, presumably the owner, took that and gave it to me.  It was a tuna sandwich.  Can't say I was blown away, but it was, and is, important to me that I had a piece of Peter's Grill before it shut down.

But assuming that tuna sandwich was for someone else, I feel bad.  Sorry.

It was packed in there.  Which raises the usual issue that if it were packed before it closed, the restaurant wouldn't have had to close, now, would it?  But hey, it's a downtown restaurant, and those are vanishing by the minute because it's so hard to make money when you cater mostly to people coming to and from work.

I just read that the owner blamed food trucks for permanently crippling his business.  Well, this is also ironic, but as I have heard, there are no more food trucks in either downtown since the pandemic.  So many companies decided their employees could work from home during COVID that food trucks determined there was no longer money to be made downtown, either.  Maybe that has changed since we're now six years beyond the pandemic.  But I haven't heard of a glut of food trucks invading downtown Minneapolis every lunch hour.

You know, I assumed I would have more to say about the death of Peter's Grill.  Well, shelving this blog post for 13 years shortens the story, I guess.

I'm A Desperate, Horny, Forgetful Goddamn Lush

So I'm starting this blog post at a quarter to 4 in the morning.  I'm doing what I want to do over an extended holiday -- staying up, surfing the Internet, listening to music (this time terrestrial radio on my boombox).  But my cellphone is plugged into my power bank.  The fuckin' thing is pissing away energy.  I juiced it up to 80% last nigh, then unplugged it like you're supposed to, but then within, oh, half an hour of active doomscrolling, it couldn't even hold its charge for that long.  When it dipped to 76%, I plugged it in again, hoping I would unplug it once it reached 80% again.  But I knew there was a chance I'd be distracted by looking at my laptop, and of course I did.  It soared well past 80%, which I hear is bad for my phone (even though it's already in not-great shape).  At this point, if it's already past 80%, I might as well charge it all the way so I can delay when I need to charge it up again.

That's the forgetfulness I hate about me that reared its ugly head over the past 24 hours.  This past evening I made myself a cocktail, a margarita featuring juice from a lime that I bought over a week ago that may or may not have spoiled.  I drink too much already, so I'm trying to hew to the "1-2-3" rule Dr. Vivek Murthy recommended in his last days as President Biden's Surgeon General.  The problem, I realized while drinking the margarita, is that that was my fourth drink of the day.  I started off with a bloody mary in the morning while watching the English Championship Play-Up Match (won by Hull over Middlesbrough in a 95the Minute Goal), then had a cider at the United FC Match, then had a beer with a Farina Rossa pizza after the Match at a craft brewery.  And this is on the heels of drinking three drinks Friday ... and two drinks Thursday ... and two (or was it three?) drinks Wednesday.  All I can say is, I drink a lot.

Oh, MNUFC has a program where you can drop off pop tops at their waste receptacles.  I have a pile of them, and I was going to bring them with to drop them off, but I forgot to put them into my cargo pants.  I didn't leave them in my cargo pants because, unlike my denim jeans, my cargo pants don't have that fifth "watch pocket," and I didn't like the feeling of those pop tops jangling around inside a big pocket on my cargos and potentially falling out if I'm sleeping in my car and put my legs parallel to the ground.  But all day yesterday I reminded myself to put those pop tops in my pants.  But I didn't.  Oh, and then I took out the pop top on my Wild State cider intending to deposit it ... and I fucking forget to do that, too.  I meant to be rid of these pop tops, and I wound up collecting more.  And even though there will be a MNUFC2 Match at Allianz Field in one Month, the Loons are off because of the World Cup for two Months.  Fuckin' great.

And all the while I've been trying to see if I can arrange a fuck session with ****e.  Earlier last week I texted her; no answer.  I texted her again, saying I am free either today or tomorrow; she just said, "ok."  She gets this way sometimes, minimally responsive and vague.  I asked for clarity while eating pizza and eating beer last night, but she has yet to respond.  I'm horny enough that I want to make booty texts to all of my stripper girlfriends (even though a lot of them are out of town this Memorial Weekend, dammit) so I can get some lovin' this long, lonely weekend.  But ... fuckin' A, ****e is the only one who'll let me inside her, so I gotta give her every chance to get back to me.  But what if she's on one of her episodes where she ghosts me?

This weekend is supposed to be fun.  In many ways, it is.  And I am seeking every which way to find the negative in all of this.  Maybe that's a sign that I should fix myself instead of just rationalizing my decadence and inattention as part of enjoying the long holiday.  Or, maybe I should just say fuck it all.

They're Coming Home Because They Think I Should House The Cousin I Haven't Heard From In Decades

This was going to be a more expansive blog post because my cousin isn't the only person who has reached out to me and wants to see me.  But things had to take a scary bad turn for me, and that's because of my goddamn parents' meddling, again.

I have learned to check the spam texts the hard way.  I lost out on a gig I applied for because the person hiring for the crew texted me, and since this number was not from a trusted contact, it went into the spam folder.  Curiosity was the only reason I checked that folder, and I saw it months after this person offered the gig to me.  What an embarrassment ... and that company hasn't hired me since.  And yet I still go to their hiring board.  I applied for something a couple weeks ago.  And I am checking the spam folder just in case they give me another chance.

Anyway, it was also in this spam folder where I saw a long text from my long-ago cousin to whom I haven't spoken in decades.  She is in town and wanted to catch up on old times.  I will be honest.  She is one of four sisters and brothers my brother and sister and I remember hanging out with from time to time when we were young.  I like this particular cousin the most even though that's based on guesses on what I remember back when we were kids.  The oldest of the four I have problems with; thing is, I don't remember if I ever got into a fight with her.  My memories of interacting with her enrage me now, but I really don't know if she thinks we don't get along.  I just don't want to see her again.

But I need to give family a chance, so I reached out ... as soon as I spoke to My Father, whom my cousin, or "cousin," said gave her my number.  I hadn't spoken to my parents pretty much for the past week, but I finally had reason to ring them up.  And yes, Father said my cousin is the real deal and so gave her my number.  OK, this is not catfishing.  We spoke -- can't say I was over-enthused on catching up, but I want to see if I could see her over the holiday weekend.  We promised to compare schedules the middle of the week.

With that matter kicked down the street, I went to Art-A-Whirl's last day.  And while I was minding my own business, trying to give myself some grace and be a part of a community that I love, I feel a buzzing on my ass.  Father called again.  I took the call while wandering around an art studio.  I should have known they would have called again demanding that I be more "hospitable."  They asked me to ask my cousin if she needed to borrow my car.  She already told me that she and her son (he'll be studying in town for the next several years) have gotten a rental.  They then fucking asked me to open up the house to them.  I told them my cousin and cousin once removed already got a hotel.  I completely fucking lied; I'm pretty sure they have, but I don't know that.  What I do know is that there is no goddamn way in hell I am going to let them stay here if I can help it.  No offense, but fuck no.

The call ended; I don't think My Fucking Parents heard the combination of rage and fear in my voice at the end of the call.  But I kept thinking about them while I was doing my personal art crawl.  Also, I remember that goddamn time they surprised me by coming home and not telling me.  So goddamn scarring; I'll never forgive them for doing that to me.  I know that they suspect that I don't keep the house clean while they're gone.

So that leads me to one conclusion: They're coming home.  They might not tell me.  They might.  But they're coming home.  They think I am so unable to be a good host for family that they will fucking pay the obscene amount a plane ticket costs these days and come home to see if I have cleaned up the house.  By the way, they insisted that I gave them my cousin's phone number, even though I think they already have it.  I can totally believe that My Fucking Parents insisted, if not demanded, my cousin cancel their hotel and car so we can give them housing and transportation.  Fucking weirdos.

I can imagine them booking plane tickets online right now.  Fuckin' A.  The house is a mess, just like I wanted to.  And I need to clean it up in five fucking days to impress one person I haven't seen in decades and another person I didn't know existed until yesterday?  Fuck that shit.  I'm too tired to clean, and I'm too busy to care.  And that's how My Fucking Parents will screw me again.  All because oh-oh-oh, I need to be good hosts for family!!!  I'll bring shame to them if I don't!!!

Fucking hate my parents.

Tingling/Numbness Now Scaring Me

Just want to put down for the record that there has been tingling and numbness I've been feeling -- mostly in my right hand and wrist and forearm, but really everywhere, for the past ... oh, seven days or so.  It's carpal tunnel, even though I feel a lot of pain on the corner of my wrist just below the pinky, if you're asking me to pinpoint one thing.

I think this is a combination of factors coming home to roost -- having my work mouse too far from my reach, all those times I've had to grip an exacto knife to cut open packages at work, my nasty habit of holding up my cellphone with one of my chargers attached to it, and lying down while looking up at my laptop, which I too hold with my hands and thus with my forearms holding it up.

Keep doing exercises all week, but it's not working out.  I still feel this general numbness that sticks around at times, and in certain gripping positions I feel a sharp pain at the corner of my wrist.  I sleep with a brace on now, and it sometimes works.  I've begun to take pills, too, but I don't know if that will work.

Honestly, as far-fetched as this sounds, I'm just hoping that it's some virus, or some blip that my body is going to take care of, and this will all be gone in a week.  But I've had this pain, although in a slightly less acute and frequent form, for months now.  This might get worse, I'm afraid.

I Continue To Miss Soccer Goals

I've started my day on Apple TV watching the MLS Toronto-Colorado Match while thinking up what I want to blog post about.  And with the Rapids up 2-0 and this being, well, soccer, I let my attention wander, both to my phone and also to this laptop.

I have spoken before about missing Goals because I was looking at my phone.  Well, Toronto scored while I was looking at my lap (specifically theoretical high-speed rail networks in the Midwest), then they tied it up while I was looking at my The Athletic app.  And I'll be goddamned: That is when I finally got the inspiration to blog post, and as I started this blog post, TFC scored again to take a 3-2 lead.

This would have been a sensational Game to pay attention to.  Instead, I saw none of the three Goals of this comeback, and right now, I want to kill myself.

So after work yesterday/Saturday I went to the drug store to pick up something for Mother.  When I got back to my, I noticed my phone was missing.  Damn, I knew I left it at my desk.  So I drove all the way down to grab it from my desk ... until not to see it.  So I made a more thorough search of my car, and sure enough, my cell fell over to the side of my seat.

I need to, at the very last, find a cellphone case I can see coming a while away.  I like the one I have because it's durable, but it's black, and I need a color to stand out.  Hmmm ... maybe I will buy it here!

Goddamn, Car Trouble Fucks Everything Up

Man, don't you hate it when you have to stop everything just because of car trouble?  OK, I am exaggerating what happened and didn't happen yesterday/Tuesday, but it's still a pain in the ass.

So I go out to sleep in my car at work for my lunch break.  My paranoid eyes always makes me think I'm seeing something that's not there, but on this day, they latched onto something unusual and, turns out, scary: A bulge/blister/bump on my passenger-side tire.  Honestly, I didn't think anything of it.  I just thought I needed to deflate the air in that overinflated tire (didn't help), and then I went inside my car to nap.  But that bubble concerned me anyway, so I had to go to my cell and Google, "is it dangerous to have a bump on the side of your tire?"  And all the entries in the search said, "Hell yes, it's fucking dangerous!"

(Aside: I seem to have more problems with tires on this car than I ever had with my old one.  Is it because it's a subcompact whose tires are naturally lower profile?  I remember getting one of my tires punctured the Friday before Labor Weekend, and now this.  By the way, that bubble is probably the result of hitting one pothole, or one too many potholes.  Goddamn potholes.)

After making a couple calls to see if I could get a tire after work, I decided that after work I needed to swap out that tire for the spare.  But dammit, my mechanic screwed those lug nuts in so tight I couldn't loosen them.  I did not believe at all that I needed to call AAA, but because I am too weak, I had to.  Luckily, even during afternoon rush hour traffic and him helping me being led astray by his Google Maps, the guy who was about to save me arrived at work after one hour.  The last time I called AAA (and I think it was when I had to stop the minivan around St. Thomas for what was a broken alternator), it was at least twice that long.  And after using WD-40 and a long-handle lug nut remover to get as much torque working, he got the bad tire off.  Roadside assistants are angels, they truly are.

Also angels are, I now realize, the only car mechanic in the neighborhood that's open evenings.  Why aren't there more car shops that are open evenings, or weekends for that matter?  Cars don't break down at night or on weekends?  Anyway, the place I babied my car to was the only one around the area open at 7 at night.  And even though they couldn't get the same exact tire for me that evening, they can do so this morning.  Also, they did what I asked them to: Check the other tires to make sure they're fine, and to check the air pressure on the spare (even though I asked the roadside assistant to check and to pump it up.  I always forget to check the air in the spare).

So I talked about having plans ruined.  Specifically, I wanted to eat at either Culver's or Potbelly, two places where I can get free dessert for my birthday.  I then wanted to go home, look through the mail, call Mother about the mail if need be, then maybe nap before I caught the 8 o'clock showing of Ready Or Not 2: Here I Come.  But after I got everything arranged for the (hopefully) quick tire swap this morning, I got my car back, spare tire still affixed, and I still had time to make the movie.  I didn't feel completely safe that I could drive to the theater to watch when I could, and maybe should, drive back home.  But a mixture of relief that people were able to help me and defiance that I didn't want my car trouble to stop me from the fun I planned on having compelled me to get to the movie.  And I made it in time.  And the film was ... um, bloody and profane, but OK, just like the first one.

One problem after I left the shop and before I went into the theater.  I locked the door with the key fob, but I didn't see the light flicker on indicating everything got locked.  I then noticed that the hood was slightly open.  Now I noticed when I was at the shop, looking through the window into the bay where the mechanics were looking at my car, that the hood was opened up, presumably for the guys to go through their customary check of everything in my car even though I was just there to get a tire replaced.  I didn't think anything else of it, though, because I assumed they would slam the hood shut.  But they didn't.  I didn't drive really fast; you're not supposed to on a spare, plus I used side streets to get from the mechanic to the theater.  But I realized that I drove several miles with the hood open.  The hood of my old car flew open while I was driving to the gym a baker's dozen years ago, and that was the scariest fucking thing that's happened to me on the road ... well, OK, maybe top five.  My point is is that it seems very, very dangerous to drive with the hood open.  I don't think anything got ruined, and yet I feel my car is beyond repair because I drove it with the hood open.  Look, if anything did get damaged, I probably won't know till much, much later.  Fuckin' A, man -- these guys were quick, and they treated me well.  But they fucking forgot to slam my fuckin' hood shut?!

No, I probably won't bring it up.  Again, if there's damage because I drove with the hood open, how would I know?  Oh, well, you take the head-slappingly bad with the good when you're in a jam.  Hopefully they can just get me my new tire and do so quickly and easily.

My Time Is Not My Own (Again)

See, I was so busy this weekend ... that I didn't get around to blog post something about the weekend until the weekend was over.

This past weekend was one where I was, yeah, super busy.  I had a volunteer event down south of here Saturday afternoon, and I had the Loons Match Sunday afternoon.  Both of them were in the afternoon, like I said, but those were things I was planning on doing, so that means I was busy over the weekend.  So much so that I had to set the alarm on my phone for both days, something I usually don't do and usually do dread.  To be completely fair, I woke up on my own on Saturday -- early enough, in fact, to water the plants in the morning.  But the phone woke me up on Sunday, and it felt like I was going to work.  Blech.

Come to think of it, I'm busy this week, too.  I had an alumni watching event last/Monday night and saw my team get their asses kicked.  Tonight/Tuesday night I am planning on seeing my first movie in a while, Ready Or Not 2: Here I Come.  I thought the first one was a kick, so I am looking forward to a sequel I didn't think the box office on the first one would call for.  Tomorrow/Wednesday I might stay in, so there's that.  Thursday I work early, so I might work out for the first time in a long time, or I could see this band in south Minneapolis, or I could take a nap so long that it extends into the evening.  Friday I think I'm going to my first roller derby event in years.  And this weekend I need to use this birthday offer at a bar in south Minneapolis while also hoping to see ****e for a fuck.  I really could use a day to myself, but my libido is forcing me to give up time to things I may regret doing later.  Well, maybe not fucking ****e, but all the other stuff. ...

I am charging my cellphone for the second time today.  Maybe the second time I have ever done that.  I guess that's what I do when I have the day off and decide to spend the Chinese/Lunar New Year doing close to nothing important: I use my phone so much I have to charge it twice in a day.

Still, I am not liking the health of this battery.  It has plagued me since I got it that Easter, and even if I use it a lot, I still don't like it.  Not "get a new phone ASAP" hate it, but, well, kind of.

RIP, Fast Food Points

So once in a while I go through all my fast food apps, for which I have a lot.  I need to check on these from time to time.  Sometimes I do it just to look at any new foods or deals they may have.  Sometimes I do it as a way of climbing out of the rabbit hole I dive into while doomscrolling while not being able to pry my eyes away from my cellphone.  And sometimes I check the number of points I have on each application to make sure I haven't lost them.

A couple weeks ago (I think), I got an offer for free food from Chipotle.  Chipotle sends those offers from time to time.  This time around I got, I think, free guacamole.  I haven't had them in a while, so I ordered online and ate the quesadilla there; I went home to eat the chips and guac.  Later that night, I went to the Chipotle app to check that the points were there.  They were, but all the points I accumulated up to that point were gone.  At that point I had to look through all my other applications because I apparently didn't take that good of a look into them.  And I saw that I lost all my points at Popeyes, another fast food place I like.

Bummed, I am.  But I don't think there's anything I can do about them.  Obviously, if my parents scooted on out of here in the late summer/early fall like they usually do, I would have eaten at Chipotle and Popeyes before whatever six-month period or so that made my points expire, but they stuck around till after the New Year, and that is what probably killed off my points.

I have noted in the past (although I may not have discussed this on Wailing And Failing) that fast food chains have differing policies when it comes to when your points expire.  Some places say that you lose your points six months after you get those points.  Other places say that you lose all your points if there has been no activity (and that includes using points as well as accruing them) after a certain period.  I like the former scenario because if you do lapse, you only lose those points.  However, with the latter scenario, as long as you do something with that restaurant, you can keep points even if you earned them more than six months ago.  Of course, the best thing is for those points to never expire, but I don't think any of the applications I have are that generous.

While the permanent loss of what I spent so much to gain is awful, I have to admit there is a certain bit of ... freedom I feel.  Yes, circumstances forced me to fail, so to speak.  But that also means that I no longer feel obligated to go to Chipotle or Popeyes just to keep the points that I have ... er, had.  In fact, even though I like eating at both places, because I am back to zero with both of them, I don't know if I want to go back because I don't want to start getting points again with either place.  I've been scarred by how bad I feel losing them, you see.  Well, I did get points at Chipotle, but that was after I realized I lost all the points I gained before my order.  I might let those points die on the vine.

Maybe the lesson is, eat at every fast food restaurant you have an app for at least once every six months.

Those Motherfuckers

Today I woke up around 11:30.  I think my body told me I only needed six hours of sleep.  But, I think I was trying to loll around my bed to get more shuteye anyway.

I couldn't.  I was woken up by a car horn being honked incessantly.  I think they say that when you hear a horn getting honked repeatedly, that means that those people are not only around, but they're about to take someone.

Those sons-of-bitches are still here, goddammit, and they might finally be reaching our street.

---

Not too long ago, my phone blew up.  Emergency text.  Some kid is missing.  But this is no Amber Alert, at least I don't think.  The missing child is a Latino boy.

I saw on the tracker website that an observer saw activity at an address close to the one given on the alert.  Poor boy made a run for it, I reckon.  I don't know how he's going to survive because this is the one cold night we'll have for at least the next couple weeks.  But if there are gods, let him run free.

Addendum To: How Long Can My Computer Hold On?

So that weird thing where I start up my computer and can't login in to open it up, so I have to restart it so I can login a second time?  Some time yesterday/Saturday it stopped doing that.  I opened it up and I was able to punch in my password to get into my computer immediately, like it's supposed to.  I don't know what I could have done to "fix" my laptop.

It was getting to the point where I would have been so fed up that I would have bought a new lap before the fall, which is when the extension on security for this laptop (it runs on Windows 10 and I cannot upgrade this to Windows 11 because it doesn't have the space for it) that I opted into runs out.  I am getting really frustrated at how much battery life my cellphone is going through, too, so I have thought about replacing that as well.  I was getting scared that both my laptop and cell would lose support in the fall, meaning I would have to replace both in the fall, which would be two big-ticket items I would need to pay for at the same time, and I don't look forward to that.  That made me think that maybe I should take advantage of the deals that might be floating around for a laptop, move up my timeline, and buy a new lap now.  But now, with this thing working "normally" ... yeah, I'll wait.

Another Sign I'm A Crappy Uncle

I got really tired yesterday, y'all, really tired.  I didn't think I would be, but I was really draggin' at work in the afternoon.  And after my parents made spaghetti for dinner (yum!), I was going to lay down for a bit and, well, see where my body will take me before The Amazing Race comes on.

When I climb into bed, I get a text from my sister-in-law.  She says my niece is playing in a school concert, and we can watch it live.  If they had told me my niece played an instrument, I completely forgot.

I wanted to watch on my phone.  I really did.  But when I got my text, I was really, really tired.  So I set the phone off to the side and shut my eyes with the promise that, if I woke up by the time the concert started, which was about less than a half-hour after I got the text, I would watch.

I think I set my phone aside and shut my eyes at around 5:45.  I woke up, totally serious, at 10:15.  I was hoping the Vimeo had a "Watch from the beginning" feature, but it doesn't.  So I missed my niece's concert because I was tired af.  I know I need to make a more concerted effort to be present for her events ... but dammit, I was tired.  And probably a bad uncle, too.

I texted my sister-in-law to see if I can see a replay of it online.  Hope so.  Hope she's still talking to me.

Ah, Men Who Aren't

So Saturday night, after working the Gopher football Game, I was hanging out with a couple dudes downtown who saw our alma mater's football Game.  They left, but I wanted to hang out a little while longer.

I was standing up scrolling through my phone.  I was the only one of this table that had three chairs; although it was busy, there were other tables around me.  One that was occupied was occupied by a lot of people.  I didn't notice that another person joined them.  He apparently wanted a chair.  He saw the one that was next to me.  And he just took it, and used it to sit down with his friends.

No, he didn't ask me.  And he should've.  Sure, I wasn't using it.  But it was obvious that it was a chair that was at a table I was at, so a quick, "Hey, you using this?" would have sufficed.  That was too much to ask of this guy, who sat his incel ass down and, I think, began scrolling through his phone.

---

It was a bear to drive down the Megamall Black Friday.  The on-ramp to the first highway I hit was backed up, the drive into The Lowry Tunnel was backed up, and my God, the traffic to park at MOA was backed up for half a mile.

I finally parked.  I'm walking in, and I hear these clomping footsteps behind me.  There's this tall White dude who has this IDGAF attitude coming up behind me.  I fling the first door open for him; he keeps it open while not saying thanks.  At this point he's about to clip my heel with his toe, so I open the second door for him.  He doesn't say thanks; he just keeps striding, almost leaving what looks to be his kids in his dust.  I sarcastically give him the thumb's up; it's only comeback I can think of to let him know what I feel about his fast, intrusive walking.

---

There has been a school of thought that video games cause violence.  That idea has been debunked by researched a long time ago, even though I think a lot of people still cling to the notion.  But there has been very small evidence that video games cause aggression.  There are some studies that note a correlation, especially in the short term.

I'm going to be so bold as to believe that video games do cause aggression, and not just in the short term.  I think that the advent of video games coincide with societal coarseness.  I believe that more people have become dicks since video games became popular.  I will go out on a limb that these two arrested development motherfuckers play them, and as a result have no manners and go about life thinking everything's about them, they don't have to wait their turn, and they do whatever they want, fuck everybody else.  A lot of people are like that now, in this country and around the world.  And that's also partially why Trump's in office -- well, that and Russian interference (which Trump asked for, which is illegal) and Musk and social media (also illegal).  And while aggression isn't the same as violence, the former can easily bleed into and beget the latter.  That would be a correlation, wouldn't it?

People scoff at calls to ban or limit video games from the youth until their brains are more fully developed.  Those calls have been proposed to curb violence.  I'm going to say it: Maybe video games should be limited as a way to curb aggression, and then that curb on aggression can lead to a curb in violence.  All things are connected to each other, and in a world that is going mad and is hellbent on screwing the little guy, maybe we need to think about doing that.  Then, maybe these supposedly "frustrated" boys will actually grow the fuck up.

I Love Being Desired

What I find hot is a woman just reaching into my open fly and yanking out my cock.  I love aggressive women.  And goddammit, I love being treated like a piece of meat, because that makes me feel desired sexually, and I ain't no sexual being.

That's what ****e did to me today.  I have never seen her feisty like this before.  But I helped her out with some issues regarding cellphones and her privacy settings, and so she, um, rewarded me with her nasty ways.  And her mouth.

Fuck yeah, I love that.  Emphasis on fuck!

Really tired right now.  Should go to bed, obviously.  But I fear that I'm so tired I won't wake up in time for the Vikings Game.  What I usually do in those cases (but especially for Vikes Games) is keep my laptop open and use it as a second alarm.  I hope I won't be so tired as to sleep through both my cellphone and my laptop.  It's never happened, and I hope it won't happen this time.  Wish me luck.

I woke up this morning at a normal hour -- 8:30-ish, when I could hear my sister leaving for something.  I spoke with my sis last night about monitoring Mother while she does her exercises this morning and, well, I figured my sister has done so much caring for My Mother, I think it is my turn to get out of bed and help out with Mother's PT while she takes several hours for herself.

After she got done exercising, I figured I had the time and the energy to clean out the gutters, something that needed to be done.  This was the perfect time; I was up, I don't have any other time to do it this weekend, and I don't know if it will be warm enough and/or not snowing for me to do it two weekends from now because I might not have time next weekend, either.  I thought there would be more leaves and detritus to clean out, but either there wasn't as much as I thought, or I didn't look closely enough, which is a possibility.

While sweeping away the leaves from the driveway, I looked up.  The skies are gloriously cloudy, and the trees on my street are still turning vivid shades of yellow, orange and red.  This weekend, this morning, would have been the perfect time to leaf-peep.  And I checked the temperature on my phone: 35 degrees, and it feels like 28.  But it doesn't feel like 28, or 35.  Maybe I'm hot from all the gutter-cleaning I was doing, but I felt quite warm and cozy for what I was wearing.  Anyway, this looked like perfect fall weather, and so I had to take a couple pictures of how I want the sky to look every day for the rest of my life.  No, really.

Addendum To: General (Car-Centered) Anxiety

I checked my coolant overflow tank Tuesday and I think it's below the "MAX" line.  Maybe; the tank is in a place that's surrounded by other parts, so it's hard to take a level look at the line, so I'm eyeballing it from above.  That's why I kind of think that it's been at that level, whatever that level is, for some time.  Well, I know that it was well above "MAX" once, and now it may or may not be below it, but it may have been around "MAX" for some time.  Does that make sense?

I still worry because not only will my sister put my car through its paces all around town as she's shuttling Mother to surgery and rehab for the next few weeks, I/we will be driving it places, too.  We're meeting our brother and niece tonight/Friday night for dinner and some escape room frivolity.  Then on Sunday I decided to go down and visit ****e for some sexytime (and to calm her down; the way she describes it, a donation through her phone turned into an identity theft attempt, and she had to wipe her phone, thus deleting all her contacts).  I could use this break right before Mother goes under the knife.  I just hope the car can withstand the punishment it's been getting, and not just with the coolant.

Liquid Glass? More Like Liquid Ass!

So I updated the operating system on my iPhone to iOS 26, the really advanced one I think people are calling "Liquid Glass."  I see some changes, but after the update the change I have seen the most is that it is draining the life out of my iPhone battery at an alarming rate.  When I got this phone Easter 2024, I noticed that the battery was so bad (and I think it's a 13) that I have had to charge it almost daily.  Upon the advent of iOS 26, just now I charged my iPhone for the second time today.  And I think it's the second time I've done it since the update.

It can't be the battery.  It went to crap right at the exact same time I updated to the new OS?  I don't think so.  It has to be the operating system.  When I, for example, take my morning break at work in the bathroom, I am scrolling and doomscrolling (even though I am vowing not to do the latter).  Before the update I saw the count decrease on the battery icon too fast for my liking.  Now, that number is in freefall, and all I'm doing is the same thing I've always done.  I checked the maximum battery life on my 13.  It slipped from 90% to 89%.  That can't be causing my battery's current meltdown.

It's not as if I'm going to restore the old OS.  I wouldn't know how if I wanted to.  So now I have to be super conscious of charging my cellphone, or not use it as often.  And now I also have to worry about the two powerbanks I use to charge my phone.  They're getting a vicious workout that might wear them out.