Doin' The Quad! And On A Full Stomach!!!

Soccer days don't get much fuller than this -- a quadrupleheader of World Cup Group Stage Matches, each evenly spread out with approximately an hour inbetween.  Games at noon, 3, 6 and 9.  And I am going to be at one place for all four of them.

I am going to try and eat and drink through the day.  But my last meal was last night's birria tacos with ramen.  It didn't look like much, but I had to take the rest of the ramen home with me to eat after about an hour.  I had to relieve myself, and post haste.  I don't know why I got so full: I had only a elote going out to the Mexican craft brewery to watch Brazil and Morocco tie, and like I said in my last blog post, I ate waffles in the morning.  It couldn't have been the beer, or the mango michelada, could it?

Anyway, thing is I feel, well, full.  And I didn't plan on it.  This place has five ethnic-themed hot dogs, and I want to try at least four of them.  The way I'm feeling now, I might not make it.  And that surprises and, to be honest, disappoints me.

Addendum To: Planning World Cup Viewing Where

And complicating all my World Up watch-planning is something I thought of, and just did, this/Saturday morning: The food I have at home.  After I watched the U. S. take it to Paraguay, I'm all in on the World Cup.  Hell, I might take off work to watch Matches.  (I already have one planned for two weeks from now, but I might just take more days off.)  I want to go out every day.  But I shouldn't, because I have milk that's about to go bad, bread that's been in the fridge for two weeks, deli meat that I've barely made a dent on, and frozen waffles and french toast that I should get around to eating.

But dammit, I don't feel like staying home on the weekends and eating them all.  I really, really prefer going out Saturday and Sunday and watching soccer.  Guess that food can wait till the workweek ... but right now I really, really prefer heading out after work to watch soccer at a pub or restaurant, too.  Man, I don't know what I'm going to do.

I was so tuckered out after the USMNT Game that I promptly fell into bed.  Probably conked off around 11 p.m.  Woke up a quarter after 8, totally refreshed.  The one thing I am going to do today is go to this Mexican craft brewery and watch Brazil-Morocco there.  My secondary plan is going to this Mexican place close to me and see if I can watch at least part of Haiti-Scotland there.  They have a TV on, and for some stupid reason it's on a Fox local channel (not Fox News, not the Fox station here in town, but "Fox Local" -- it shows news stories that come from a random series of local telecasts, or at least that's what it appears to be).  I kind of want to know if they take TV requests, and if not, this will be the first World Cup Match I won't be able to follow, either on TV or through the radio.

So this involves a lot of eating out, as you can tell.  And yet I also had a plan to, if I woke up early enough, eat either the frozen waffles or french toast sticks whose boxes I've already opened up.  I just ate the waffles (and chased it down with milk).  I'm not hungry anymore, but because I'm up and because the first WC Game of the day, Qatar-Switzerland, is not until 2, I think I'll go shopping and eat lunch.  I need creamer, but I thought about getting ground meat for spaghetti I might make next week.  But if I'm going out at least thrice next week, what's the point?  And sure, why eat lunch when I'm already not hungry after breakfast?  Good question, but I think I'll still have soup and a sandwich.  Or, I might take the sandwich home and eat it later.  That might be the food I'll have next week ... well, beyond the food I already have at home.

Too Many Oranges

Yesterday/Tuesday evening, helped by the fact that I got out of work early (I had to stop by the local grocery store to get a chicken breast on sale, but even with that I got home earlier than I usually do these days), I ate the final part of the last of five oranges I bought two weeks ago.  I've read on the Internet that you don't want to eat oranges that have been in the fridge for that long, but they tasted like oranges (even though the taste was a tad off) and hey, I haven't gotten sick after eating any of them, including the one yesterday/Tuesday evening.

I bought these at the discount grocery store, so I got, or felt I got, a bargain.  Also, I bought five of them because I wanted to make sure I had enough orange juice to make all the cocktails I wanted to make.  Well, I made one mimosa and one monkey gland, and still I have to eat, oh, three of the five oranges like they were, you know, oranges.  I shouldn't complain; they're a great source of vitamin C, of course.  But I way overestimated the number of oranges I needed for cocktails.  Need to cut back next time.

I went through my plans of going to this new Middle Eastern place that came recommended after I left last/Friday night's Prince tribute concert.  Interesting food, but I didn't think it'd be so much.  Moreover, I ordered this through drive-thru at around 1:30.  I got done eating it all around 4.  And I'm having donuts with someone I haven't seen since high school this/Saturday morning at 10.  Eating this was a mistake.  And I regret doing so.

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.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Sunday, May 31:

• Fucked ****e.  Maybe I shouldn't have done it after getting wanked by ***e*, but I already promised ****e.  I wish I had given myself more time to recuperate.  Total: $120.
• Saturday the 30th ... said HJ from ***e*.  "Responded" perfectly fine.  Total: $120.
• In the afternoon I went to the barber school to get a shave.  Seeing some from high school whom I haven't seen since high school, and I reckon I should clean myself up a bit, even if I'll have a week's worth of stubble on my face.  With tip: $12.
• I then went to Nelson's Cheese for a chicken wrap, a medium corn bacon chowder, and a bottle of RC Cola.  I said that the corn bacon chowder was a diuretic for the ice cream I had the night before, but it was a very tasty diuretic.  It was expensive, so the I gave back all the change from the $20 I handed over, so I spent: $20.
• On Thursday the 28th I went to the Moonwater Gin Bar, specifically for the sushi pop-up.  I'm still on a high from the yellowtail tuna I had.  While I tipped through the receipt, for some reason the restaurant-within-the-restaurant also had fishbowls out asking for tips for both the itamae and the wait staff.  I kind of think it's overkill, but hey, I was totally happy with everybody and everything there, so I tossed in three bucks in both bowls, so the total comes out to: $6.
• Back to Sunday, May 24 ... I first went to Brit's Pub for EPL "Decision Day."  To celebrate the big spectacle (and big crowd), I got two dishes to go along with my Bloody Mary.  With tip: $53.
• I then went to Bebe Zito to grab ice cream.  These guys don't have pennies (I think), so they do the "nearest nickel" thing, and mind rounded up.  With tip -- and golly, that much for ice cream?!: $8.60.
• See, I went to Bebe Zito for ice cream because I wanted to try an affogato by going next door to Caffetto and ordering a double shot of espresso.  Pour the espresso over the ice cream and voila, affogato!  (This wasn't my idea; one day when I went to Caffetto, the barista told me outside food is allowed and in fact told me this hack.)  With tip: $5.
• On Saturday the 23rd I was also at Brit's Pub, this time for the English Championship play-up Game, won by Hull (on a Goal in Second Half Stoppage Time) over Middlesbrough.  I was going to get a second dish if it were going to Extra Time, so that late tally saved me money.  Still, with what I got (a bacon butty [?] and a Bloody Mary), I spent, with tip: $38.
• Later that afternoon, I went to the Loons Match.  Then, after the Tie, I went to Bang Brewing.  It's a nice, humble, easygoing place.  They have great pizza (from a different company).  And they are trying to be sustainable with everything they do, including using the grains for their beer.  I charged the pizza, but I paid cash for the Kernza.  With tip: $9.
• And then I saw that they offer products from this Patagonia Provisions line, items from the Patagonia outdoor wear company that also promote sustainability.  I'll bite; I bought crackers and, even though I swore I'd never eat them and think they're gross on pizza, a tin of anchovies.  Total for both: $11.
• Thursday, May 21 -- it was the very first day of the Kickoff To Summer At The Fair, The Minnesota State Fair.  I saw it as an opportunity to get the fair food I always wanted to get but never got around to getting, get the fair food I usually get so I could try other fair food when the actually State Fair rolls around, and eat all of that without the crazy crowds.  Well, the first thing I did was line up at Amish Annie Donut.  What am I doing?  I mean, the chocolate chip donut was great, but why am I replicating the bad part of the State Fair, and first thing?  The fairgrounds itself, a lot of it cordoned off (BTW, there was no Midway because the rides aren't there), was sparse, actually, so there was room to roam without getting bodied up creepily.  (There are limits to crowds for all four days of this pre-Fair Fair; Saturday and Sunday sold out.)  I went back and forth for both food and drinks and using cash and a credit card.  I used cash for the donut (with tip), cheese curds, a small mini donut beer (with tip), and a Minneapple Pie with cinnamon ice cream.  (For my own sake, I want to note here that I used my credit card for a blue raspberry lemonade from Little Prairie Coffee, a pickle pizza from Rick's, and a Big Fat Bacon, something I've always wanted to try.)  Cash total: $44.
• Back to Sunday the 17th, where I spent my afternoon at Art-A-Whirl, eating and drinking while walking around and looking at art.  I was going to have separate bullet points for every food and drink I bought, but I just realized that, like the Minnesota State Fair, there's nothing stopping me from aggregating all the stuff I consume into one bullet point because this was all for one occasion and one "event," albeit a big one.  So, my OCD satisfied and to spare myself a few more seconds of time, I can tell you that the elote, a special beer from Pryes Brewing just for Art-A-Whirl (with tip), and a can of Coke (also with tip) I paid for with cash to the tune of: $19.
• I will separate donations from victuals and libations.  I saw someone carrying a very light-looking safe on her shoulders.  She was getting the word out about a Narcan first aid kit.  She and the person she was with were soliciting donations, so the second time I saw them, I kicked in: $1.
• Friday, May 15: This is when Art-A-Whirl started, and I bought three pieces of art, two of them with cash, and I feel better of I separated them since they are things that, well, I still have.  In front of this art gallery I patronize was this artist selling small pieces of art.  One of them was an egg chair.  It came disassembled in a small plastic case, like a toy you would get when you put in a quarter in a vending machine, you know?  I found it whimsical enough to buy, even though I assembled it real quick and I think this is a chair only for small eggs.  Regardless, it was cheap: $1.
• I took a break from "arting" and went to Stargazer.  This place may be the hippest part of the Twin Cities for food, and I'm glad I hit Stargazer for the first time in a long time.  One drink, a Stargazer Burger (which actually is the size of a slider), pasta and tip came out to: $48.
• A small parking lot was cleared out for a couple art stalls and a couple pop-ups for food and drink.  The pizza and drink I got (both of which I charged) were great.  But I spied a freezer from this company called Chunk Chunk, and I had to get an ice cream sandwich.  Paid: $7.
• I finally bit the bullet, went back to the art gallery I've been going to for decades, and decided I had the money and the courage to buy a piece of art from the owner, another person I've been acquaintances with for decades.  It is a small framed print which I now have at my work desk.  Yeah, I buy art now.  By the way, I don't know if it's just art, but one does not pay sales tax if you can pay with money.  Cost: $35.

Good through May 31.

I had to evacuate my bowels four or five (probably five) times yesterday.  I had a chicken wrap, and an RC Cola for lunch, but I think the big thing was the medium corn bacon chowder I had.  It was good, and I don't think it was the diuretic in and of itself.  But it triggered all the excrement in my colon from the ice cream I had Friday night.  Things happen like that, at least with my body.  But I didn't think I had four-to-five visits to the bathroom's worth of it.

I think I'm all better now!

On A High From Eating Sushi

Had sushi, as well as sashimi, last night at this pop-up by a guy making a name for himself.  My bleepin' Buddha, that was great.  In particular, the yellowtail roll I had was excellent.  I'm not even a sushi guy, but since that first bite into that sushi, I've been on cloud nine.  It's so good, I will feel bad once I eat something else because I would feel like I'm disrespecting both the yellowtail roll I consumed and this guy who made it.  I should starve myself to death, because that is an appropriate last meal.

I think this sushi master wants to open up his own place, he just doesn't have the capital yet.  Well, if he keeps this up, he'll be able to line up the finances in due time.  And I will go eat at his place.

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.

You know, the big drawback to going out all these days is my disincentive to brush my teeth.  Sure, I have plenty of time after I get home to do that, but I'm tired and there are other things I need to do.  For example, I got home from gorging myself at the Kickoff To Summer At The (Minnesota State) Fair, and I had to buy chocolates online, then I had to watch intently the last episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, and then I had to blog post, so now I'm too tired and I have to go to bed!  When will I ever have the time to brush my teeth?

I've Given Up And Am Going Out A Lot This Week ... Again

So I've bitched often (though not in the past week like I thought) about "needing" to go out too many evenings in the week.  Man, sometimes I just want to go home from work and fucking stay there.

I was trying to reach some equilibrium with that this week, especially since it's a holiday weekend and you're supposed to just veg out.  But I had to chuck that all out the window.  First it's because of my cousin and her son.  She said that Friday might work, but that's The Official Start Of Summer, and I had plans to go to my speakeasy and ease into this Endless Summer by drinking.  Saturday could work, too, but United FC has a Match in the afternoon, I wanted to relax with pizza and a beer afterwards, and there is the possibility of the English Championship Play-Up Match that morning (I say possibility because as I type this, there is a hearing to determine whether Southampton, one of the teams playing, should be kicked out for spying on Middlesbrough, the club it beat more than a week ago to reach the Final).  Sunday and Monday are a lot freer, but I was hoping to fuck ****e one of those days and stay in the other, and I want to do both so badly that I consider seeing my cousin one of those days, as convenient that it might be, a frustrating spanner in the works.  I don't want to say I would rather not see my cousin, but ...

I'm getting over myself.  For one thing, all this soccer watching is still up in the air; Sunday, for example, is Decision Day in the EPL.  If Tottenham Hotspur is still in jeopardy of being relegated, I'm going out to watch it at a pub that morning, and in that case I probably won't have any time to myself at home this weekend.  Still, I'm looking for some solace, and I have to look to the workweek for that, too.  My plan during the workweek was to go out last/Monday night because I had a gas coupon that was going to expire, so I might as well work on my receipts and eat out.  Tonight/Tuesday night and tomorrow/Wednesday night I would stay in, finally.  Thursday I would, for the first time ever, go out to the State Fair, which now opens for Memorial Weekend.  Then Friday's the speakeasy.

That was all shot to hell when I came home from work last/Monday night.  Taped onto my screen door was a notice from the city.  They're doing something with the main sewer line tomorrow/Wednesday.  Between 8 in the morning and 8 in the evening, I am not supposed to use any water at all in the house.  Well, fuck.  I might as well not go home after work.  So, what to do?  How about go to the speakeasy then?  I don't want to "celebrate" summer two days early, but frankly, it makes a lot of sense to just do this tomorrow/Wednesday night.  Not only would I give the city time to not mess up the house's sewer system, going out (instead of staying in) tomorrow/Wednesday night frees up Friday night for me to hang with my cousin and cousin once removed.  Looking at it that way, a lot of problems get solved.

So I'm being a social butterfly again.  Yippee ... ?

(Aside: I am working the early shift at work today/Tuesday.  I should be in bed instead of blog posting this.  Anyway, if I get done with work early, well, it would theoretically allow me to go exercise at a decent hour in the evening.  Yeah, golly, I can do that.  But on that announcement by the city, I am supposed to pour water down all my drains in anticipation of this sewer line cut tomorrow/Wednesday.  It may not take up a whole lot of time, but if I'm doing that, I might as well do other chores ... like go through my stuff, finally.  Yeah, I need to get in shape, but if I really want to go home -- well, I should just do this, huh?  Might as well salvage one night to do nothing.)

They Stay The Same Age. But Me Getting Older Might Be A Problem After All

So after work last/Saturday night I went to this roast beef place just south of my company.  I was on my way to the Black Hart to see MNUFC play (and lose -- goddamn, what a fucking shit pass to give up the Game-winner).  I really, really wanted to see The Preakness Stakes, but because I decided to stay a bit over to grab even more overtime, I thought I resigned myself that I probably wouldn't make it to the Black Hart to see the race, especially since I had my heart set on getting this place's legendarily good roast beef after work last/Saturday night because it will be the only time in the foreseeable future 1) it would be on my way to doing other things and 2) I would naturally be hungry right after work.

I get there and the cashier taking my order is a beaut.  Fuck yeah, she is gorgeous.  But young.  I think, and hope, not teenager young, but she could not have graduated from college.  Seeing a hot young woman speaking to you, even only because she has to, brightens my day, so I order a roast beef sandwich cheerfully.  And what do you know -- this restaurant actually has a TV.  (I've been to this place before, but it's been years since the last time, so maybe they didn't have a TV then.)  I could relax and let go of my stress because I could see the horse race after all (well, the reception was poor, but at least I saw Napoleon Solo outrace the other horses at the stretch run without the feed cutting out).  I had an excuse to talk to this babe again; this time, I requested the TV be turned on to the Preakness, and because I had a reason to stay beyond eating my sandwich, I ordered french fries too, which I had planned to order until I decided to stay late at work and calculated that even though I couldn't catch the race in time, I should still make an effort to get to the Black Hart as quickly as possible ... which makes no sense now that I typed out that thought.

Anyway ... have no complaints with her service.  In fact, when I ordered fries, she just skipped past the tip screen, which I guess means she likes me ... ?  But it's not as if I could chat her up or anything.  She served me my roast beef and fries, and that was it when it came to interaction.

Still, she is fucking hot.  And as I finally left after eating and watching the race, it just so happened that three young women entered and immediately began speaking to that cashier.  They obviously are friends with the cashier from school who dropped by to chat or eat or both.  They were fucking hot, and unlike the cashier, who had to dress for work, these friends dressed for the hot weather we had and, well, dressed like young women, with their goddamn boner-inducing midriffs hanging out and shit.  If I didn't have to go -- and if I were younger and less savvy -- I would sit down and steal looks at these three babes.

And then I realized that it was most important for me at that time to go because I had plans.  I can say that my younger self would've dropped everything I would've done because ogling these chicks would be an urge I could not get over.  And beyond that, the age gap was so apparent as to be instinctive.  Even if I could assume these women were of college age, they still would be less than half my age.  Could I even think to have small talk with them?  What would we even talk about?  TikTok?  The new Olivia Rodrigo album?  What they're studying?  Finally, from the quick glance I took of the faces and bodies of these three hotties (do people say "hotties" anymore, or am I cringe saying that?) I think ... well, that they all look the same -- with each other, and with the cashier they said hi to.  Maybe if I sat and looked at them for a longer, creepier period of time, I can discern distinct differences.  I mean, they can't be quadruplets.  But am I wrong to think that all young women these days look alike?  I don't think I can say yes, but I'm going to stick to my guns and not say no.

Not going to lie; if I were a lot younger, I would be masturbating to the memory of these four babes.  That feels ... wrong now.  So maybe Matthew McConaughey was also wrong in Dazed And Confused -- even though what his character is saying would now be construed as Trump Disease:

Eating Out Of Order

By that I mean that, pretty much all my life, once I eat something I consider light or dessert, that's the last thing I'll eat that night.  I've just never thought I could, or at least should, eat anything else, and especially anything that would be polar opposite of that light snack or that dessert.  It just shouldn't be done -- else there would be chaos.

I have breached my rule the last two nights, and I feel bad about it.  Wednesday night, after suffering through a lethargic Loons Loss, I went home and ate several Girl Scout Cookies.  But I had to stay up to do the WMNSS.  While going through it, I felt my body telling me to go to bed immediately.  However, I had to stay awake to finish the survey, and I then developed this hunger for the deli meat I had in the fridge.  So, even though I ate dessert (the Girl Scout Cookies), I went into the fridge and and pulled out one piece of ham and one piece of roast beef and wolfed both down.  And they hit the spot, ngl.

Last/Thursday night, after a long and stressful night at work, I went home, downed a snack pack of Chex Mix, then made myself a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich, which was the only thing I was planning to eat for the night (and I was going to chase it with what turns out to be the remaining amount of milk I have).  But dammit, I got hungry, and so I finally ripped into one of the two pizza Lunchables I bought from the discount store close by me.  It was time I tried these for the first time; when I was young I was obsessed with the original Lunchables, where I would stack the cracker, meat and cheese in different orders.  But pizza?  Never had it till just this past evening, and though I wouldn't say it was the best pizza I've ever had, I didn't mind it at all.  I just feel weird, and wrong, to eat pizza after I ate a PB&J, which I consider both a light snack and, in some frames of mind, dessert.  Can I break free from my wrong order-eating sins tonight/Friday night?

Is BBQ Supposed To Give You So Much Regret?

So last/Tuesday night after work (and after dropping off my property taxes), I went to this barbecue place relatively close by that I have heard a lot of good things about.  And I love BBQ, so I looked through reviews to see what people really liked -- and I tried pretty much all of the best recommendations, namely this place's pulled pork, ribs, brisket, and mac 'n' cheese.

It came in a relatively small tray.  I thought I would conquer it with ease.  In fact, all the items I bought were essentially half-orders, and looking at what I got, I regretted that I didn't go with full orders like I originally wanted.  Wow, was I wrong.  I finished up with the ribs, and the last two bones felt like climbing the sheer face of a mountain vertically.  After starting up just fine I hit a wall out of nowhere, and I can't help but think that the Unforgivable Wetness of 20 or even ten years ago would've wolfed all that down and ordered the same thing again.

No meat sweats, but even now I feel so logy, let alone fat.  All that meat felt good going down my throat, but now that all of that went through my stomach (and sure, my intestines, too), my tummy aches.  And I'm scared it's going to ache tomorrow.  How can I regret eating such good barbecue??

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Saturday, May 9:

• Let's go back to Wednesday, May 6 Thursday, May 7, when, before work, I went to the panaderia close to me and got, um, some pastry that was really good.  Also got a small mocha.  With tip (and rounding down because no more pennies), I paid: $12.
• That evening, after work, I went to the National Sports Center.  Minnesota United was holding a practice open only to season-ticket holders.  I was wondering if James Rodriguez was going to be there.  Didn't see him train, but near the end of the session, I saw him pop out for autographs.  And a horde of people, many of them holding either James Colombia jerseys, the flag of Colombia, or both, swarmed to him.  Really nice ... and apparently, if reports are correct, the last thing he will do in Loons-branded gear.  Anyway, there was a food truck there, KCM Eggroll.  Got a jumbo pork egg roll and a strawberry lemonade.  With tip it came out to: $18.
• Then, after that, I went to Chick-Fil-A to get my free nuggets after the Timberwolves eliminated The Denver Nuggets (get it?).  Got a watermelon hibiscus sunjoy, too.  But I charged all that to my credit card.  I was still hungry, and I hadn't been to Potbelly in a while, and it's right across the way from Chick-Fil-A, so I got a bowl of chili from Potbelly.  I was going to throw in a tip, but something got crossed up because the guy paid me my whole change without the tip.  I was going to round up to give a total of $8, but instead I only paid: $7.45.
• ETA at 1:40 a.m. on May 11 that on Wednesday the 6th I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition) to see ******a, who had finally delivered on her promise to rub me down.  Unfortunately there weren't too many girls working the stripclub, so the amount of time she could be doing table dances for me was shortened, so I only got 16 from her.  Add that to cover, tips for ******a and two other strippers and security, and a drink for myself (with tip) and I spent: $186.
• Back on Saturday the 2nd I did my annual sojourn to Wings Financial to add money to my account in an effort to keep it active.  Threw in: $20.
• That evening, after watching MNUFC win on TV, I celebrated by going to Zantigo.  Now, I know it's not "real" Mexican food, and that notion has been reinforced by all the Mexican and Central and South American mom-and-pop shops in the area.  But in total those restaurants are a force, and now I'm scared that Zantigo will go the way of the nearby Subway and close.  So I went there and got a "double-stacked" (in Taco Bell terms) taco and some ancho fries.  Zantigo also rounds down, so instead of $7.87 I only had to pay: $7.85.
• We zip back to Sunday, April 26, when ***e* was in town.  Got a quick wank session in with her.  So glad to see her and her hand in person: $120.
• That afternoon I went to this combination antique store/coffeeshop that is right by my house.  If I didn't have to cross a busy street, I would walk there.  Funky place.  The antiques they sell include old Playboys at a dozen bucks apiece.  Didn't buy the mags; instead, I reconciled my monthly expense list there while eating a pesto sandwich with tomato soup as a dip, and I washed that down with an Italian soda.  With tip: $27.95.
• Saturday the 25th ... got a shave from the barbering school close to me.  This dude was much more professional than the previous one.  With tip: $14.
• MNUFC played in the afternoon.  Along the way I saw the local kids selling brownies.  Got one, and this time I did not get a smushed one; see below/earlier.  Cost: $1.
• Later that evening I went to Falling Knife Brewery to attend their Timberwolves outdoor watch party.  Good times, even if it was really crowded.  Saw a bit of the Wild Game before the Wolves started.  That Game was interrupted by Trump's second fake assassination at the start of the White House Correspondents Dinner.  When he came on to do his bullshit press conference, we booed until the brewery changed the channel from ABC to ESPN, where the rest of the Timberwolves' Win over Denver was airing.  Good times all around!  So the Potter's Pasties food truck was parked there, and I got a pastie.  With tip: $16.
• Also there was that woman I see sometimes at the Black Hart.  She sells homemade Mexican food -- tacos, burritos, etc.  Funny seeing her there.  But I like an entrepreneur, so I along with the pastie, I bought one burrito from her at a price of: $5.
• On Friday the 24th I was invited to a party that day (or the day before, can't remember).  I usually don't like doing that, but *****a was hosting it, and I hadn't gotten cranked from her in a long, long time.  Moreover, ****e* was going to be there, and I have seen her at many, many parties, but I have never gotten intimate with her even though I have always wanted to.  I finally arranged to be double-teamed by those two and it was as good as I had hoped.  We three bonded over being water signs, too!  Those two and cover ... wow, that's a lot of money ... came out to: $290.
• And later that evening I went to Bebe Zito for a late night burger and pop (and, well, Caffetto too, but I charged what I got there on my credit card).  With tip, that late dinner at Bebe Zito cost: $8.
• Tuesday, April 21 ... did I talk about the massage I finally got from ******a here on WAF yet?  Maybe I haven't, and maybe I won't.  Anyway, this was the day I finally got a massage from her.  Finally, after ... geez, maybe two decades, I got her to see me naked!  And she was good -- a 90-minute massage cost me: $150.
• On Monday the 20th I went to a stripper party *****y told me the day of.  I have said no to her so often that I felt like I finally needed to tell her yes.  Moreover, ****e was working, and I hadn't seen her in a long time, so I arranged them both to double-team me.  I quivered when I came -- quivered!!!  And man, that costs me a lot of money!  With cover: $320.
• Saturday, April 18: The neighbor kids were selling brownies on my way to the Loons Game.  Got a deformed one this time 'round.  Disappointing, but I figure they knew how to do business, unfortunately.  The brownie cost: $1.
• On Sunday the 12th I got wanked by ******e, who complained about Minnesota again and is planning to leave again.  HJ set me back: $120.
• I bid on this online auction for items from the now-closed institution SexWorld.  I got aced out on several things I wanted, like a few signs and a Shop-Vac.  But I won a hard hat!  It's not branded with SexWorld, rather the construction company that oversaw their renovation.  Yeah, the company just decided to, uh, leave a hard hat there, and it apparently stayed in the back all this time, and the owner made eight-plus bucks off of me so I could very tangentially own a piece of SexWorld.  Anyway, I had to go downtown on this day (and not at the SexWorld site but another place several blocks east) to pay and pick it up.  On my way back, I saw that the Rustica Bakery was open, and I figured I would stop and rest of my feet.  Purchased a chocolate croissant and a small lemonade.  They rounded down.  With tip this light snack was: $10.75.
• Finally, on Saturday, April 11, I went to the library to make copies of my tax forms, both for the state (I needed to make copies of my federal to send to the state) and for myself.  The county next to the one I live in gives everyone who either has their county's library card or has their library card from whatever county they live in linked to their system (like I do) gets five bucks' worth of copies and printouts each month.  (Up until maybe a couple months ago, it was five bucks a week.)  That saves me a lot of money, but I still had to make so many copies that I still needed to shell out money to get all the copies I needed made, even if it was only: $1.

Good through May 9.

Hooters Ain't The Only One

I swear there has been a rash of restaurant closings this year that I lament.  They don't hurt as much as Hooters, of course.  And honestly, I have been trying to come up with a list, but can't think of too many.  I've already talked about the Taco Bell that was near me.  (By the way, nothing has gone in in its place yet.  Taco Bell disappeared, furnishings and signage and all, in a day, but that place has remained empty for weeks now.  The hell?)

The one that comes to mind right now is the local Subway.  When I was in high school, the place where it was, located at a strip mall not too far away from the high school, was the place to be, sad as it might seem now.  But it was dependable and good enough, and so that's where we all went (and for me, to get those stamps you lick and stick on those cards in order to get a free sub).

What the owners of that place more than several years ago was move to an even bigger place across the street.  That's investment, and I love that.  It was clean, and I was treated well every time I went there.  Unfortunately, it was empty too much of the time.  I wanted to go there more often, but there are so many other places to eat out, both in the fast food and the fancy lanes.  I tried to support them whenever I had the urge to, but it wasn't enough.  A few weeks ago, when I drove by during the day, I didn't see their "OPEN" light on and there was no car outside.  And maybe last week, all the Subway signage was taken down.  I feel sad because it feels as though the owner took a risk based on previous success, but whether it was the bigger size of the restaurant, the new location, something else, or all of the above, it, well, backfired.

And even though it's not my responsibility because I can't eat out every single day or else I'll go broke, I worry about the places I eat out at going under.  There's that speakeasy I haven't been to since March Madness.  It's expensive to go there, but I still want it to be around when I want to go there.  And there's a mom-and-pop panaderia close by me.  Their pastries and croissants and baked goods are fantastic, and the layout looks lush and wonderful, and I barely see anyone whenever I go there.  I hate to come across it one day and see it gone.  But again, I'm not made out of money.  What can I do?

I blame Trump.  Seriously, with all the shit he's done in order to line his pockets, I think it's sensible to blame his corrupt ass.

Old Chicken Not As Good As New-ish Chicken

So yesterday/Monday I was invited to this house party that was happening later into the evening.  Normally I wouldn't go because of the last-minute notice ... and I usually haven't.  But it was at a place much more convenient to me, plus ****e was there, and it just so happened I texted her on Sunday.  Work was a bear, but I managed to get out in time so that I could go home, change, get money, and then get to the party in time to get my rocks off.

While waiting for ****e and *****y (who told me about the party) to double-team me, I sat in the cramped kitchen which was hosting this shindig with three-to-four other guys who have either gotten serviced or were waiting to be serviced by at least one of those two women.  There's always food at these stripper parties.  And even though food is the furthest thing I need when I go to these parties, there's nothing else to do there except eat.  Someone, probably one of the dancers, bought take-home chicken and fries, presumably from Cub Foods.  I ate it.  And even though it had been laying around of at least 90 minutes, it tasted good.

I planned to have Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner last/Monday night.  Well, let me go back a bit ... before I even knew there was a party going on, I was planning on going to the Ty Segall concert at First Ave.  But I checked his recent playlist.  He doesn't seem to deviate from concert to concert, and the one song for which I would have gone to see him play (his awesome, stomping cover of Hot Chocolate's "Every 1's A Winner") he has not played at all in his tour, at least not yet.  I'm not a big-enough fan of Mr. Segall that I would go see him play songs I don't know, so I decided not to go.  Maybe I should've researched his tour set earlier so I could have made this decision earlier.

Anyway, because I decided not to go to the concert, I quickly pivoted to eating KFC after the party.  I recently signed up for the fast food restaurant's application, and because I'm a first-time signee, I got this deal where, for the first seven days I signed in, I could get my first order through their app for half off.  I had planned this after looking over the menu, so I knew that I was going to order a four-piece chicken meal, which came with a side (I settled on fries), a biscuit, and a Pepsi.  That would originally go for about $14.50 (!), so seeing as I was going to get it for half-off, I figure this would be the only time I would ever get it.

When my parents were here (ish), they would make me get KFC on Tuesdays.  They still have a deal where a bucket of eight pieces of chicken sells for ten bucks.  Those were always hot.  These weren't.  Still, I thought it would taste good, so I sat down and at them and ... they weren't.  I don't know why.  I don't think it's quality control, at least beyond the warmth.  But it wasn't as good as the leftover chicken I ate at the party.  That can't be right.  The only thing I can think of is that, besides having popcorn and a Cpari-Sun-like juicebox at work, given to us by the company, I was really hungry, and that leftover chicken hit the spot.  I ate all my KFC with little difficulty, but when I started, admittedly, I wasn't hungry.

Maybe I should've saved that Kentucky Fried Chicken order for another day.  Or maybe this KFC store had a bad run of chicken and if I had gone somewhere else that night I would've gotten better chicken.  Who knows?

I Make Bad Choices

So I was at this bar last/Monday night for the WNBA Draft (the Lynx will rue that they chose Miles over Fam Thiam, book it).  I wanted to stay for the whole thing, but the wings I got weren't enough for me.  So I got these "Chicken Dunkers," and when the server asked me what else I wanted to go with it, I realized I may have gotten myself way over my head, or stomach.  And lo and behold, I got this small but bountiful basket of chicken ... well, they're smaller than tenders but bigger than nuggets, put it that way.  And there were tater tots, which I chose, interspersed with those.  I finished, but barely, and now I feel fat.  Because I am fat, and I make bad choices when it comes to eating.

I was so tired after coming home I went to bed after the news.  As I was falling asleep I realized that there's a bruise on my left knee.  Have no idea where I got it from.  I didn't bang something hard at work or at the bar.  Maybe it happened spontaneously.  Maybe my body's breaking down.

I make bad choices.

Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Thursday, April 9:

• Well, we should really start on Easter, aka Sunday, April 5, when I went out to the Heights to finally see Psycho.  Man, that shower scene is killer.  Ticket, popcorn, pop and tip: $26.
• Later that evening *****y whacked me off.  I wanted to see her on Easter because she is a regular churchgoer and I find it somewhat ironic that she goes to church and then later that day she gives me an HJ for money, specifically: $150.
• Friday, April 3: I didn't expect to spend money, but Father wanted Powerball tickets, so out I went.  And because I have to stick to my rule of spending cash or using credit cards on a least two things in a day, I decided that I wasn't going to have veggie chips and veggie dip for dinner and instead try a mom-and-pop Latin American restaurant.  There are a few places around here that are recommended.  But they were closed by the time I went out -- I stayed to listen to the end of the South Carolina-UConn women's college basketball Semifinal and in particular Geno Auriemma's meltdown at Dawn Staley -- so I went to a place that was open but fell just below 4 1/2 stars on Google Maps: Que Taco.  Not bad.  I got their birria tacos, and they are the biggest tacos I've seen around the area yet.  Wanted to use the bathroom, but they cordoned that part of the restaurant off with chairs and a mop wringer bucket.  Might go there again if only because it's open when I want to nightcrawl.  I have the receipt (ETA at 1:19 p.m. on May 24, 2026 that I may have had the receipt, but it looks like I threw it away, so either I charged this to my credit card or I just fucked up and didn't write down the amount I paid for it, in which case, uh, oh, well, I hate myself), so this EWR is for just the tip: $2.
• Now we go back to Sunday, March 29, where I laid into ****e.  She was unstable on this day, sadly.  She called me while I was still driving to her place asking me where the hell I am.  Her cock-sucking wasn't as on point as it has been in the past.  And after we got done fucking and I laid in bed all tuckered out, she took my underwear and socks and placed them in a pile next to what what was either clothes she was going to launder or trash she was going to throw away.  I was glad I was getting dressed before she did anything to it.  But when I grabbed my boxers, I saw that they were right above a wad of either wet toilet paper or paper towels either she cleaned up the bathroom with or I used to wipe up all my cum.  There was a huge wet spot on the boxers, and I needed to wear them because I was going to a brewery afterward.  I asked ****e if I could use a hair dryer, and that did the trick.  But this is the first time something like this happened.  Whatever; I'm thinking of seeing her again next weekend.  Price: $120.
• So this brewery is doing this thing where I could bring in a Minnesota United jersey and they would remove the Target logo in the front and replace it with the Rebel Loon, a symbol of the Twin Cities' resilience and defiance in the wake of this Republican government's oppression earlier in the year.  I waited and had an early dinner and beer while they were hacking my replica Loons jersey.  But for some reason I couldn't use my card to pay for this service.  Thankfully I had enough cash on me to do it: $30.
• Back further to Monday, March 23, the date of my alma mater getting their butts handed to them by South Carolina.  Our Game-watching bar charges extra when you pay by credit card, so I now pay by cash as often as I can, and I did so on this night.  With tip: $40.
• Sunday the 22nd was the last day Hotters at The Mall Of America was open.  Sad, sad day.  Glad I got there when I did; they got so busy, and they got so cleaned out, that they closed their doors at 6 even though they usually close on Sundays at 10, I think.  Oh, and when I asked if there was any food available, my Hooters girl said they still had burger patties.  Not burger buns, but patties.  And shit, I almost ordered one.  But I settled on my Big Daddy-size Bud Light and the two shirts they still had on sale.  Didn't think I wanted such memorabilia, but when one shirt was only five bucks and another server came around saying the other shirt, really a cancer-themed crop top, was only a buck, well, I had to jump at the chance.  My last total I spent at the Megamall MOA, with tip: $40.
• And on my way out I think I saw a Girl Scout Cookies stand.  That's where I bought the Lemonades.  Glad it was a Girl Scout who did the sale and not her mom; these kids are supposed to learn how to sell and do business, right?  Paid: $6.
• Back to Saturday, March 14 ... a fellow alumni's kid is in this covers rock band.  The band is really good, and I saw on Facebook that they were playing at a brewpub close to me.  I stayed there until the snowstorm everyone was dreading started to look really bad.  But before I left I left tips for the young whippersnappers: $4.
• Shit, man, now we're really going back ... to Sunday, February 22, in fact, when I went to the Heights for the first time since I think the theater got new owners.  I went to see Battleship Potemkin, a silent film classic I have wanted to see for a long time.  It was accompanied by a solo musician who played the piano.  What I wasn't expecting was her to use a snare drum and a crash cymbal.  I have seen a silent film once or twice with a full band, but never have I heard percussion used -- but it was a very, very welcomed new experience.  Paid for the ticket with my credit card, so this total is for the popcorn, pop, and tipping the concession stand: $13.
• On Saturday the 21st I got a shave from the local barber school.  The person shaving me acted like he didn't give a shit, so I didn't give much of a tip.  See, this is why I'm willing to pay five times as much to get my face shaved.  Or, maybe I should just do it myself again.  With tip: $12.
• For Valentine's Day I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) to see my ATF.  Where else would I go on February 14?  So glad she was there working; she had said she didn't know if she was going to take the day off.  Cover, tips, drinks from me and ******a and 20 table dances from her ... well, I see that I didn't write the total amount down after I left the club, so I'm just going to pull an amount out of my ass and say that I spent: $230.
• Sunday, February 8: Went to Grandpa Joe's (formerly Blue Sun Soda Shop) to get some premium ginger beer and ginger ale for the cocktails I wanted to make.  I also grabbed a bottle of RC and a bottle of root beer from some company.  Six bottles that cost: $14.33.
• I think later that day, *****y came over to wank me: $150.
• Finally, on Sunday, February 1, ******e came over to wank me: $120.

Yes, I keep saying this: I need to do these more frequently.  Done through April 9.