Zynga Poker Ain't Fun Right Now

Just got burned by Zynga Poker.  This player, or "player," beat me with a straight when I had a three-of-a-kind, then beat me even though I had a straight because he got a flush.  I've suspected for some time that I'm not playing against real people, only bots.  This is not the first time I've lost good hands to the same "person" either, so what happened just now only confirms my suspicions.

Some time ago, I played with someone I'm convinced is real.  That's because the same raw deal that just happened to me happened to him, and he was using the chat feature to vent about losing -- "See, this guy's not real, he's cheating!"  I wanted to say I agree with him, but he left before I could talk back.  I feel for the guy.  I imagine he quit Zynga Poker not too long after.

I've also noticed that people are getting "better" in Zynga Poker.  After reaching ... I think it's called Elite Level 1 (?), I've dropped two levels in the past two weeks, and I'm in danger of getting relegated again this week.  Try as I might, I am not winning pots, and the pots I am winning don't zoom me up the leaderboard like they did before.  In the meantime, lots of other "players" are winning and making big "money."  I don't know if it has to do with Zynga Poker leaving Facebook in the fall, but I don't like how everyone else seems to be doing well all of a sudden now.

I have thought about leaving Zynga Poker once I can't play it on Facebook.  What is happening now is making me think that decision is a wise one.

I was going to blog post about how I'm getting fucked by my health insurance card, but my mind is so tired right now that I don't have the mental capabilities of going through my thoughts.  What I really, really want to do right now is sleep ... which isn't something I'm getting right now because my evenings in which I would use to catch up on rest I am instead watching the World Cup.  Oh God ... the headache I'm feeling right now is a sign I need to go to sleep.  So that's what I'm going to do now, and my well thought-out blog posts I'll blog post another day.

I was going to blog post about me deciding to attend the Women's PGA Championship at Hazeltine (tl;dr in case I don't ever get back around to talking about it: I'm glad I went) or the time Friday I went downtown just to watch the World Cup and a growing party just fucking got in my way.  But before I left for Hazeltine yesterday/Sunday I juice half a lemon and got 35 mL out of it.  That meant I had to drink two cocktails, and since I got back so late I had only till 9:30 p.m. (I juiced them around 11:30 a.m. and I think you have up to ten hours before the juice starts to taste bleh) to use them, and I realized while watching Red Sox-Yankees on NBC that it was past 9, so I made and downed a lemon drop martini and then quickly followed that up with a between the sheets, and not only do I have a pounding headache, I think I may have poisoned myself.

So, to summarize, that is what I'm blog posting about ... while also providing a possible cause of death in case I don't wake up in the morning.

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.

Help Me, Bill Shatner, I'm Not Regular!

At the college baseball Games yesterday/Saturday, I had coffee before the first Game, had a cheeseburger, fries and a beer between the first and second (aside: They screwed up my order ... I ordered a cheeseburger, I overheard someone order just a hamburger [even though a hamburger isn't on the menu and I don't ever ask for modifications from ordering food at a Game], someone was about to give me a cheeseburger but then yanked it back to swap it with a hamburger ... when I told the workers I wanted cheese, someone in the back just threw a cold slice of cheddar on top of the burger ... I saw the cheeseburger they were about to give me; that cheese was melted ... lazy bums), and a hot dog and a souvenir Wild Cherry Pepsi between the second and third.  And then, once the Games were done, I stopped by Taco Bell.

You know what this should mean, right?  Colon blow, stuff like that.  Nope.  I am not regular.  It's bothering me to no end.  Maybe the spaghetti I'm about to make will do the trick, but the trick should already have been done.

Now, about relieving yourself: Have you seen that cereal commercial with William Shatner?  The one where he calls himself "Will Shat?"  I believe this ad, which aired in the Super Bowl, is a sign of the end times:

I blame Trump.  But sheepishly I admit that I really, really want to try this to regulate my gut.  It's for Kellogg's Raisin Bran, by the way.  I rarely remember what memorable commercials advertise for.

This Grocery Store Is Pissing Me Off, Man. ...

So there's a grocery store close by me that my family has gone to ever since I can remember.  For people who will never pass up a bargain, I don't know why they frequent this mom-and-pop, boutique grocery store.  Don't get me wrong -- their stuff is great, and there are some things I can get there that we would have to travel a ways to buy elsewhere.  But knowing my parents, they would not go to this grocery store.  But make no mistake; they still do.

And I do.  It's convenient.  It also makes this great chili that I see more and more as dinner.  If I want to make a steak, or if I need onions and peppers to spruce up my spaghetti sauce, I go there instead of the bigger chains around town.  Like I said, their stuff is great.  Finally, I noticed that these guys compare favorable with Aldi for cheapest prices for plastic bottles of pop, which I need almost as much as water.  I would have to pay 30, 40, even 50 cents more than I do at this place.

OK, so this is how they pissed me off yesterday/Sunday.  I wanted chili, and I wanted to buy a plastic bottle of pop.  I also wanted to see if they were still running their $1 deal for Mr. Pibb, which is a decent soda, but I really wanted one just because their bottles are a buck apiece.  So I went there for the first time in, I think, over a month.

Well, first of all, that promotional deal for Mr. Pibb is over.  Beyond that, their big change, which I saw my last visit there, was that they installed a new rewards system.  Before, I was given this paper card with our number.  We either showed the cashier our card or gave him or her our number.  After we accrued enough points, we would get five bucks off automatically.  But on my last visit, I saw these brand-spankin' new cash registers, and I was told that the old rewards program was killed off, utterly.  In its place is this system whereby, instead of issuing cards with numbers, we registered with our phone number; they track points and after a certain number, we get a discount.  It might be five bucks, I don't remember.  But the first stupid thing is that the points we accrued up till then are gone.  It's a brand new system, fuck your points.

To make up for it, I guess, we were automatically given three bucks off our next purchase after our initial visit upon which we registered.  That next purchase was yesterday/Sunday.  So once I was ready to pay, I asked the cashier where the discount was.  That's when she explained to me that no discount is automatically rung up at the cash register, like the old program did.  Instead, we were e-mailed a Quick Response (QR) code.  I guess we had to go into our phone, look for that e-mail, and scan it, or something.

I tried looking for it since there was no one behind me.  But (and maybe I should blog post about this sometime) using search functions on your email applications on your phone sucks.  They don't find shit.  And I couldn't find it, so I had to just pay full price for my chili and bottle of Pepsi and go.

I didn't think at the time I even got a QR code.  But I did.  Once I got home, I realized that as part of signing up for this new rewards program, you give them permission to e-mail you.  I did find the e-mail where the code was.  Also, and unfortunately, the cashier said that this $3 dollar new program discount lasted only for a month after registration.  And in that e-mail, conveniently, I saw the expiration date of ... four days prior.  I couldn't use that discount even if I were able to find it when I was there.

That really pisses me off, it really does.  I was used to these guys doing everything, but now more of the work, especially the part where I am responsible for keeping up on my discounts, falls on me, and I don't like that change.  So maybe I'll drive down to Cub to get my chili from now on, and maybe I'll then stop by Aldi for my pop.  Because I don't like getting screwed like this, and I did get screwed.

I totally need some relief tomorrow/Sunday, and I'll get that when I see ****e -- I think.  I thought I was going to see her a few Sundays ago, but her door was locked and I had no way to contact her asking what was up.  She texted me a few hours later that she was home, but by that time I was home.  I was perturbed, but she is the only one who'd do me like she does, so I kept my text short in case I needed her again ... and I do, tomorrow/Sunday.  God, I hope she's there.  She said so, even in the morning, when I'll be in her area.

Unstable Next Two Weekends

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

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

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

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

Addendum To: I Played Myself

As paying ten more bucks than I needed to wasn't bad enough, I saw something at the X I didn't think I would see.  There was a merchandise stand there, selling several items related to the conference (the NCHC) and the event (the Frozen Faceoff), but not as many items as I would expect for an event of that size.  Two of the items, a shirt and a pint glass, commemorate the fact that this is the last time (or so they say) the conference will have its tournament in St. Paul (and for the first few year of the NCHC, it was at Target Center in Minneapolis)/neutral ice; starting next year and for the foreseeable future, the conference tournament will be played on campus sites.

The tag line for the event was "Last Call In St. Paul," and that slogan was on a shirt and a pint glass.  I saw the shirt (but not the pint glass) while I was walking the concourse inbetween the Semifinals on Friday and thought, "Hey, that's kind of cool."  And then I saw there were a few people at the stand, so I figured that I would continue to get my steps in, buy food (a pizza slice because it was the shortest line) and, once I got done with that, go back to the stand to purchase something.  Swear to God it was maybe 25 minutes at the most.  But once I went back to the merch table, the "Last Call In St. Paul" shirt was gone.  I never thought that, what, 5,000 people would buy enough shirts to sell out, but it sounds from the merch people that they didn't have much to sell.

What did catch my eye was a scarf.  It had the NCHC logo, the year of its birth ("Est. 2014"), and the 2025 Frozen Faceoff logo.  It makes no mention of the fact that this is the last neutral site Frozen Faceoff, but shit, this is as close to marking this "end of an era" as I'll get, especially if they don't make this scarf anymore, which, in hindsight, I doubt.  But I bought it, for $30.

I went back there last/Saturday night for the Frozen Faceoff Final.  (By the way, Western Michigan came back from a 3-0 Second Period deficit to win it in Double Overtime, 4-3.  Some kid from Prior Lake potted the Game-winner, his second of the night.  I didn't see it in person; I left early because I had to catch the last light rail, at a quarter after 11 [which got pushed back to 11:25 or so -- damn, Metro Transit has to be more accurate with that stuff], to get back to where I parked my car at Midway)  No new shirts or pint glasses.  But they still had scarves.  And now they were selling them for $25 apiece.  I looked at the sign with the price; someone printed out "25," cut it into a square, and taped it right in front of the "30."  I have no fucking clue why someone suddenly discounted the scarves by five bucks, but I feel cheated, and I feel so goddamn impotent because I want to complain to someone about it, but I don't want to come off as a whiner.  But why in the hell did they knock off five bucks on the scarf?!

So now, not only did I overpay for the ticket to that Game by $10-3, it looks as though I paid five bucks too much for that goddamn scarf.  So that's $15-8 I feel like I need to make up by not spending on something I would spend money on, like coffee and breakfast before work.  Man, that shit just pisses me off.

Fuckin' Janitors Tossed My Liquids

The cleaning crew at work threw away my coffee creamers and the bottles of apple and grape juice I hadn't finished yet.  There are two refrigerators, and pretty much every other week (although not next week because of the holidays) they're supposed to clean one of them, and they will clean out and throw away anything in the fridge they're cleaning.  I think I lost bottles of creamer once, and about a half-hour after they threw away the sub I just put in a fridge this one time, I frantically asked the janitors if I could have it back.  (I found it, still completely wrapped up, IIRC.  And yes, I ate it.  I paid for it!)

This ... well, this one came as a blindside.  The janitors are supposed to put up a sign in front of the fridge that is supposed to be cleaned out Monday evening the week prior.  Because of that bad memory, I know I always am diligent to move my creamers out of the fridge that will be cleaned and put it in the other one.  But like I said, they don't alternate cleaning every week, and I fucking swear to God that I didn't see a sign last week.  Now, I took Thursday off, and Friday was that shitty day where I got hit with an avalanche of work in The Fourth Department (BTW, it still hasn't abated, and it won't for a while) and then I had to get to the Timberwolves Game, and I didn't work Monday (I blog posted about my off-on schedule here) because I was working the Vikings Game.  I was venting with my supervisor and co-workers late yesterday/Tuesday afternoon about this, and they speculated that the cleaners put up the sign later in the week, like Thursday, and that's why I missed it.  If so, goddammit, that's their fault because they need to give all of us a week's notice.  Shit!

I had three bottles of creamer.  One of them was brand new.  Didn't even open the fucking bottle yet.  And yes, I had two bottles of juice I hadn't completely drank.  But fuckin' A, they were mine.  Those two bottles of juice and three bottles of creamer cost (granted, I think one was nearly empty and one was half-empty) ... oh, $20, $25?  Again, that amount is not like a mortgage, and I drank through a lot of creamer and apple and grape juice up to Monday, and obviously I can't do anything about it now.  But I can't help but look at it in terms of money, and that's money that was fucking taken away from me.  And I think -- no, I'm not 100% certain -- that I got royally fucked because no one put up a notice when they were supposed to.

The thing is, I didn't realize this until the middle of work yesterday, when I had to break away from my desk because the avalanche of work in The Fourth Department kept rolling down on my head.  And that might allude to why I didn't move my stuff (assuming I was given ample warning, which I don't think I got): I was too distracted by other things this time around to notice.  Beyond that, I didn't have time during the rest of my day once I realized I lost my shit to lose my shit because I had work to do.  It's only when I'm dwelling on what I lost -- for example, as I'm writing this -- that I'm pissed off.  For most of the rest of the day, at least until I vented to my supervisor and colleagues, I wasn't pissed because I had other things I had to concentrate on.

And so delving into work, like I will have to do today, might be a good thing because it takes my attention away from being pissed off at the fucking janitors.  I have half a mind to confront them next Monday evening for "stealing" my stuff.  But if I plunge into my work -- and I left yesterday/Tuesday, like Friday, with a ton of work to do even after I gave myself two extra hours at work -- I won't have time to get mad, and therefore I won't do something reckless and futile.  It's the best I can do.

In the meantime, I have to go to Target after work this/Wednesday evening and buy more creamer.

I've Got A Ticket ... Right?

I'm going to toot my own horn here.  I was able to set up tickets for fellow alumni for the Game against the Gopher football team tomorrow/Saturday (shit, is it tomorrow???).  Between setting it up, getting the word out, keeping people in the loop and answering any questions people may have, we are close to 200 tickets sold, which is an absolutely mind-blowing number.  I don't get any money or anything from it.  I'm just glad that so many of us alumni (and I assume most of the 200 tickets have been bought by people from the Twin Cities area) are banding together and making a day, and maybe even a weekend, out of it.  It is the community-building that makes me the most happy.

In the swirl of the past few months setting this all up, I have been somewhat cognizant I have to practice self-care, too.  In other words, as I have been making sure everyone who wants to buy a ticket gets to buy a ticket, I have to make sure I get one for myself.  I had kind of remembered that I need to do that, but that went from the back burner of my mind to the front burner when I ran across someone I know wondering if I could sit with him.  That's when I went, Oh yeah, I need to do that.

I still don't have a ticket.  Yet.  Sort of.  I had two people reach out to me asking if I could sit with them, but around the same time the first of several people said that she had an extra ticket and wants to offload it.  Since she had already bought that ticket and those two hadn't, I waited several weeks to see if she could find someone else.  In the meantime, luckily, those two found someone to go with.

The problem is that she has not been as, uh, responsive to my admittedly more frequent e-mails to her about this extra ticket.  I think she said that she has stopped looking and that it's mine.  But she has yet to tell me how she wants me to pay for her ticket.  We haven't yet discussed how we are going to get to the Game together, or even if it's possible she transfers the ticket to me and we get into the stadium separately if her plans before the Game differ from mine.  What I think is complicating all this is that she is very, very sick.  I follow her on social media, and she has been pretty forthright and active in detailing her daily struggles and her frequent trips to the doctor.  This leads me to believe that she might be too sick to go tomorrow.  She is a huge fan, and I know she wants to see the Game.  But she continues to get blood work done and she oftentimes confesses how tired she is.  I can totally see her telling me that she can't go because she's just too beat.  And if that's the case, where I am then?

I e-mailed her asking her how to pay her back and when she wants to start walking to the stadium, and she hasn't answered.  So that's where I am.  I need to draw up a contingency plan in case this all falls through.  I don't want to not trust her, but normally, every detail over this very important event would be ironed out by now, you know?  Gosh, I'm nervous over this.

Addendum To: Being Told To Leave Work Early ... Just To Go Back And Work More

And after all that, I didn't come into work today.  Got a text from my boss while watching the Match.  He was asking for overtime help because he was anticipating someone not making it in today.  Well, she did, so OT was cancelled.

You know, I would be OK with this if I haven't been jerked around when it comes to making extra money in the past -- both this week (see previous blog post) and all the times my boss has yelled at me for racking up overtime in The Fourth Department.  Sure, I was able to get some chores done in the time I would be at work, but still, this blindside fucking sucks. 

"We Praise You For Your Sacrifice," My Ass

As I keep both thinking and emotionally processing the "decision" by Biden to quit, I think I can better articulate why I am not happy about this move at all.  But the overarching visceral reaction I still can't stand is all these people saying, "We thank President Biden for stepping aside for the good of the country.  What a sacrifice!"  Stop kissing his ass.  He wanted to be President again.  And he was the much better option.  And, I still think he would've won.  I understand that the polls Democrats trust show that he was losing ground in swing states, but I still cannot believe that America would side with a stupid, cruel fascist just because the other guy looks old.  (And here is where I have to say that even though I think The Media has been complicit in bringing down Biden, their reports of a coup from Democratic leaders were, indeed, true.)

It looks as though this change -- and by the way, even though all the delegates who voted for Biden are now backing Kamala Harris, this doesn't feel "democratic," even though I will never side with Republicans who stole the 2016 election by asking Russia to interfere with it when they accuse Democrats of doing the same thing -- has triggered an avalanche of enthusiasm, as well as money.  Well, I hope that pays off in votes in November, because all that is right now just enthusiasm and money.  I didn't see this energy when Biden was running, even though the economy is great, policies have been enacted that help the little guy, and Trump is still an unintelligible, intolerant little bitch.

And that's what galls me.  I think a lot of the electorate are ungrateful.  And they are shallow, too.  The donor class may have been blindsided by this almost-instant shift from Biden to Harris, but it looks as though one bad debate was enough for Biden to lose any trust that he could beat Trump a second time.  People, we are trying to fight Project 2025 and the end of democracy.  Does it really fucking matter who our candidate is?  And if so, why couldn't it be the one who helped save America from Trump and the Republicans four years ago?  Instead, what people are now really saying is, "Thank you for your time, Joe, and for all that you've done.  Now, get the fuck out."

A lot of people are not appreciative of what Joe Biden has done for this country.  And I am still not entirely convinced that changing nominees this late in the process will help Democrats win control of the White House, let alone Congress.  I'm hoping, don't get me wrong.  But there is no guarantee that switching things up is going to make a dent in these polls Democratic operatives relied on to tell President Biden to leave.  And yes, I am still quite bitter about this ouster ... so I don't know how or even if I am going to vote.

Addendum To: We're About To Shiv A Good Man

I really, really thought this shit was going to blow over after this weekend.  Stupid me.

When you are told repeatedly that you're not going to win, you're being bullied into leaving.  That's what happened here.  And once again, Democrats fucking did it to themselves.  Two forces "on our side" forced him to quit: Pissant chickenshits who saw one bad debate and thought he was going to be a blabbering Alzheimer's patient in a month; and rich "Democrats" who saw that debate as an opportunity to oust a guy who finally was trying to make things better for the common people.

The former say look at the polls.  Polls are bullshit, especially four months from Election Day.  Also, there are some polls that say Biden was ahead.  There was no consensus, but enough people saw what they wanted to see and made this move.  As for the latter, their undue influence is another toxic manifestation of Citizens United.  We Democrats tried to dance with the devil, and the devil fucked Biden and the 14 million people who voted for him in the primary with this undemocratic end run.

We have stabbed in the back a man who led one of the most progressive agendas intended to make life fairer for all of us.  And now, we are in unprecedented territory.  Who's going to be the nominee now?  Is it Kamala Harris, really?  Because I thought it was Joe Biden, but some people have just swooped in and said, "Uh, I don't think so."  And I can't white put my finger on it, but the money people who forced out Biden might now want to elevate a Black woman into the President's chair, either.  How is she going to get the money Biden already raised?  How are you going to convince 14 million people who voted for someone else to vote for her?  Do you really think they're all just going to march in lockstep, giddily saying, "Sure, Kamala's the one!" when they were screwed out of their vote?

There is no plan.  There is no fucking plan.  And yet the donor class and everybody else who said, "He's too old!" are going to find a way to make this alright for the rest of us to fall in line for.  They're going to come up with brand-new ideas with big cushy buzzwords that we should be dazzled with because Glint! it's so fresh and exciting!  And then Republicans are going to come in and sue the fucking beejeezus out of us because we invited them into fucking with our nomination process because we had the batshit idea of doing something new to it ourselves.

We turn on ourselves so goddamn much over nothing, all the fucking time.  Joe Biden had strengths that we have voluntarily pissed away.  And now, we are going to be ruled by a dictatorship that will finish the job of ending democracy in this country.

I can't with this party.  I really fucking can't anymore.

Fuck PWHL Minnesota

Well, there was between a smattering and an undulating river of boos when Ken Klee took to the podium -- after undermining and assuming Natalie Darwitz's role as General Manager of PWHL Minnesota.  I shouldn't talk since I had the opportunity to go there and decided to go home after watching The Fall Guy instead at the theater (by the way, it's the perfect summer movie, go watch it).  But I was hoping for a torrent of boos, and maybe someone bringing in a javelin, wrapping his or her or their PWHL Minnesota jersey around it, setting the damn thing on fire, and aiming -- not at Klee, but at the stage, somewhere near the podium, far enough from the podium that everyone could easily get away from the fiery projectile, but close enough to the podium to get everyone on there to jump.

Alas, that was not to be.  Also alas, it got worse.  In the Second Round, Klee (or Kendall Coyne Schofield, possibly the real puppetmaster) selected Britta Curl, a Forward out of the University of Wisconsin.  I did not know this until X/Twitter informed me, but apparently she has supported social media posts advocating for transphobia, promoting COVID-19 conspiracy theories, and defending police brutality against Black people.  This, mind you, coming from the Professional Women's Hockey League, a league that has many, many members of the LGBTQIA+ community playing on the ice.  And don't forget, since this is Pride Month, the PWHL itself has recast its logo in rainbow colors.

X/Twitter isn't real life.  But by God, you should see the venom coming from local fans.  Or used-to-be fans, as a lot of people are done with this team after drafting Curl.  I was done with this team after they backstabbed Darwitz.  But I am really, really done with these fuckers now.  And if we Minnesotans have any goddamn spine, the events of last/Monday night should mean everyone else is done with this shitty franchise, too.

Goddammit, she confirmed -- confirmed!! -- that she was going to wank my cock this afternoon.  And then this fucking morning she says she needs to put it off a couple hours.  She says it's because one of her regulars wants to take her and her friend (both of whom have double-teamed me once or twice) out to lunch and is willing to pay her bill.  The other stripper girlfriend is celebrating her birthday.  You know it's her birthday; you couldn't anticipate this regular coming down for the weekend and doing this, especially if he's coming down from an hour away??  Bullshit.

She never came off as a flake to me until very recently, and now it's been, like, three times she's done this shit.  I'm going to wait till the afternoon because I'm horny af, but I hate getting strung along like this, I absolutely fucking hate it.

Got Burned By SeatGeek ... In A Way

I just checked my e-mail ... finally got an answer back from SeatGeek.  He just reiterated that the promo code is a one-time use one, so that I need to find something that costs at least $151 that I can use.  Oh, and he totally ignored what the other SeatGeek rep said, that I was able to use that promo code more than once if an event I wanted to pay for cost less than $151that I was able to use that promo code more than once if an event I wanted to pay for cost less than $151.

I am upset.  I was told that I could break up the credit into more than one event, and I'm told that I can't.  I will remind this person who just e-mailed me that his co-worker told me something different -- what the hell happened?  But ... now that I think about it, maybe this won't be that much of a problem.  You see, my alma mater's football team has a huge Game to kick off their season in Las Vegas Labor Eve.  My parents have a place there.  Flights to Vegas are plentiful, and they might be reasonable, even if it is a holiday.  And tickets are more than the $151 threshold I need to use that promo code.  It might be financially feasible to take a quick jaunt out to Vegas to watch my college football team and use the promo code, especially if I can catch a break on the price of the ticket.  In that sense, getting the credit broken into two or three pieces would in fact be unwieldy because I then would've needed to find two or three events for which to use them on, and I can't guarantee I would be able to find them.

Still, I've been misled, and I have to yell at SeatGeek about that.  Unfortunately there's nothing I can do, I'm afraid.  This is the company that holds my MNUFC season-ticketholder account.

Seatgeek Might Be Lying To Me, And I Don't Know If I Can Do Anything About It

OK, so I talked about the Frozen Four ticket I didn't get.  (For some reason, I can't hyperlink, so I have to do it here.)  Well, it turned out the Seatgeek person I spoke to did see it my way and gave me a promo code, basically a credit for which I could use for other events.  The only other issue I had with the code is that initially, the code was one-time-use only, and since it was in the amount of $149, I would need to find an expensive event for which I would use it.  I would rather just use whatever I need to use, then keep the rest.  She agreed and assured me that the promo code I get would not have to be used at once.

So yesterday I finally bought a ticket to Tuesday's USWNT Match at Allianz Field, which cost way less than $149.  But Seatgeek wouldn't let me use the code at all.  I spoke with Seatgeek again, and unfortunately I got a different rep than the one who gave me the code, and he said that it was one-time-use only, and I had to use up the whole $149.  Bullshit.

I copy-and-pasted a portion of the thread where the other Seatgeek rep said that using that promo code piecemeal was just fine and sent that back to him.  I also told him that I feel misled.  Now I wait.  I don't know what to do if he stays firm.  I raised this issue with my credit card, and although they at first gave me a credit, they took it back.  I had until Sunday to appeal the decision, but I thought everything was straight with me and Seatgeek.  It's not ... now, but it's now too late to appeal.

I thought I was getting fucked by these guys, and then I thought I wasn't, and now I think I am again.  Goddamn, this is fucking exhausting.

Getting My Money Back Is Now Going To Be A Problem

I was hoping, probably beyond hope, that it'd be easy for me to get my money back for the ticket to the Frozen Four Final that never arrived.  And yeah, I think it's going to now be a struggle.

Remembering the bullshit I had to deal with in getting money back for the Rolling Stones ticket that never arrived, I have come to learn that if you dispute it with the credit card company, most likely they'll ask you to try and figure it out with the company first.  Turns out that when I went back to the company asking for my money back, they just went and gave me my money back.  But that's not happening here.  First of all, there is no phone number for me to call.  There's a chat feature instead, and I have been going back and forth with this representative (who for all I know is just a fucking AI bot) since I texted "her" at the Frozen Four Semis late Thursday afternoon.  Second, after waiting a while to get an answer about not being able to get that ticket before Saturday's title tilt (prompting me to buy a second one to make sure I can watch it), I finally received one Monday.

At first blush it was a complete capitulation -- an apology followed by an offer to make things right.  But I had to look at the wording to conclude that this company, and this "rep," wasn't conceding much, if anything.  She was going to offer a promo code I could use for anything through their company over the next year.  I was about to say yes.  But then I realized they didn't say anything about the dollar amount of the cost of the ticket that I never got.  Also, that ticket set me back $150.  If this is a one-time code, and assuming the code is for the full amount, I need to find something that will cost me $150 or else I will be forgoing money.  Fuck that!  I will take a credit in the amount of the ticket that never came.  But I'm getting the whole amount back, and I will use it completely for any event, sporting or music or otherwise, until I use it all.  If not, I want my $150 back in a refund.

So I asked this "person" whether this promo would be for the full amount of the ticket that never arrived.  I haven't heard back from "her."  I'm scared as hell that "she" took my question as an acceptance when it's not.  If this goddamn company is going to use these lowball tactics in order to make right what they did wrong, then I have no choice but to get my money back through the credit card company ... and Buddha knows if that will work.  Man, I'm not in a good place right now money-wise.  The last fucking thing I need is to get ripped off and then fucked over for $150.

I planned on going down to Bloomington to get my tires changed by a guy my parents know.  It was supposed to be this morning.  But this dude just fucking cancels on me.

This is the last free day I have for the next, oh, week and a half.  It's kind of why I took this day off.  (Well, I took this day off because my stripper girlfriend was supposed to come and clean the house, but don't tell Father.)  I have work through the weekend, then I'm in The Fourth Department all next week at work (and don't fucking get me started on that bullshit), then I have to pick up Mother from the airport, and I have this huge alumni thing the following weekend, and who knows if there will be a funeral for my uncle.  This was the fucking day.  And he fucked me.

Do my parents really know this guy?  Maybe Father can take the car down there for me.  Otherwise, I don't know why I can't just take my tires to the local shop and get them changed there next week.  I know they won't fucking cancel on me.  This is all bullshit. ...