And That Busy Week Has Gotten A Bit More Complicated

How?  First of all, I didn't think I would be so swamped with goddamn work in The Fourth Department like I did.  Don't know why or how -- and I never do -- but there was work waiting for me in the morning, then more came during the morning, and a little more in the afternoon, and I had to leave for Pizza Hut and Monday Night Football after ten hours.  I had to give myself a limit because not only was I determined to watch the football Game (which I was late for; I thought I put in the Pizza Hut order overnight, but apparently the order didn't go through, so I had to order it there and wait 15 minutes), but I was fucking pissed off at all the goddamn work that blindsided me that ten hours was my limit before I was going to go postal.  I did all the work I absolutely had to do.  But had I done all the work I usually do to wrap up my day, I might have been there another damn two hours.

So I know what I'll be working on once I get in this/Tuesday morning.  And this is why I always try to stay late to get any work done -- if I leave it till the morning, I might put myself behind the 8-ball if there is an avalanche of work that comes in the morning.  That could have a cascading effect whereby I would be leaving even more work.  I don't work tomorrow/Wednesday, so technically it won't be my problem, but it will be my co-worker's, and I can't speak for them, but I am usually pissed as hell if I had a shit ton of work that was left for me.  Saying that ... I am racking up the hours.  If this workload keeps up this week, I would be getting overtime pay ... but I'm not working tomorrow/Wednesday.  Which makes me think I should pull back my paid time off and work.  I have arranged to fuck ****e that afternoon, and I plan on seeing a movie after that, but I can reschedule those.  I don't know how big work is going to be, but I feel confident I'll be staying as late today/Tuesday as I did yesterday/Monday, so a little bit of OT for working all five days would be guaranteed, and I'm a slave to capitalism.

But then last/Tuesday night I got the word: My psychiatrist passed away.  His memorial service and funeral will be Friday afternoon.  Frankly, I don't know if a patient of a psychiatrist should attend his memorial and funeral.  It feels like an invasion of privacy, as if I'm crossing a boundary and infiltrating the sacred, vulnerable space of those closest to him.  Although I poured my heart out to him, I can't say we're friends, so I wonder if going is a bit exploitive.  On the other hand, this will be the last time I get to see him.  Also, his secretary was the one who texted me the news about his death and funeral arrangements, and I think that she wouldn't divulge the details if patients weren't invited.  Finally, it's relatively close to work, and I think I can take off half a day, and start my weekend early, to go to a funeral service, even though it looks like a total washout outside.

I really feel like this is important to go to.  But assuming I can attend the funeral service, that'll be, like, four hours of paid time off I will be giving up.  That's on top of the eight I'm using tomorrow/Wednesday.  That's a lot, and even though I need to make sure I use up enough by the end of the year to get below a threshold above which I would just be giving hours away, I don't want to use so much this year.  So if I work tomorrow/Wednesday instead, I would get myself closer to the 40-hour mark above which I will get time-and-a-half.  There's no chance to get OT pay if I take 1 1/2 days off, obviously.  So, maybe I should do it?  On the other hand, my therapist's death is a reminder that you have only so many days on this side of the dirt, so maybe I shouldn't sweat getting just below the maximum number of hours before the New Year and instead take off when I want and watch what I want and fuck who I want.

Nah.  I'll wait until I see how I feel at work today/Wednesday.  I am so wishy-washy.

Golf Or Soccer?

Tonight was where my paralysis is at its worst.  I don't know what to do between two things I want to do, and the variables are either so even or so unknowable that I am completely a waste.  Since I got home (early) from World Cup viewing I took a nap and surfed the Internet.  All because I cannot decide if I want to drive all the way to Chaska to watch the Women's PGA Championship in Hazeltine, or watch the first Round of 32 World Cup Matchup between Canada and South Africa at this new Mediterranean place close by me.

One of the main things I use to determine what I should do is figuring out the chances I'll be able to do it in the future.  While the World Cup is every four Years (and I'm just watching it on TV), who knows the next time a golf major comes to town.  Using that factor, I should be going to the Women's PGA, and it's a no-brainer.

But there are a lot of things that are making me balk.  One is the weather.  It's supposed to get very humid starting today/Sunday, with dewpoints bursting through the seventies in the afternoon.  I am not a fan of humid weather, and I don't know if I can stomach sweating through my clothes for a few hours (at least).  Compare that with when I went to Sunday Singles at the Ryder Cup, which was also held at Hazeltine.  That was held in late September, and there was no heat or the humidity to contend with then.

What may be more of an annoyance, however, is that I don't necessarily find watching golf in person all that enjoyable.  I remember I went to the 3M Classic (when it was part of the Seniors Tour, not the current 3M Open for the PGA) a few times because it was at the course close by and it was free.  That was in the dog days of summer, and my goodness, it was hot.  I was able to endure, but it kept dawning on me that I'm doing a lot of walking around and a lot of sweating, and it overpowered any joy in watching great golfers play.  Also, and this may be too obvious, but golf courses are big.  You have to walk miles if you want to watch the whole thing.  And I don't know the first thing of the layout of Hazeltine.  Sure, there will be maps of the course, but I'm bad at directions.  Also, I don't know who I want to follow.  Should I just park myself at the 18th green?  What if the tournament is decided before then?  And how about the sightlines?  Will I be able to see anything besides the backs of people's heads?

Still, it's a major.  And while I won't know exactly how it'll feel tomorrow, I kept checking the forecast and it has said, for at least the past few days, that temperatures will hit 80 in the afternoon and the sky will be cloudy.  Considering the dewpoint, if the forecast called for sun, no way would I go.  I would not be able to deal with it being that humid and having the Sun beat down on me.  But overcast?  Yeah, it'll be 80 degrees and it'll feel swampy.  But I won't feel like I'm frying from the Sun's rays.  I might have a chance to at least tough it out.

There are other determinations, too.  If I'm going to watch the soccer Match, the place is so, so close.  I could drive the minivan and give my car a rest.  And speaking of my car -- I finally had the chance to check the oil in my car inbetween Games yesterday/Saturday, and the damn stick was dry.  I poured half a quart of oil and checked later, and then I saw some oil on the dipstick.  But it kind of freaked me out, and that is making me think I should give my car a break.  Finally, I really, really do need to do chores (going through my stuff and washing dishes mostly), and I won't do it if I have a 40-minute drive back from Carver County and am too pooped to do anything once I get home.

Still, it's a major.  So I am going to sleep on it and, depending on when I wake up and what the sky looks like and how hot it feels, I'll either make the drive to watch the best female golfers in the world play in my neck of the woods or I'll just puss out and watch soccer while eating shawarma ten minutes away from me.  These are the days where I want some deity to give me a sign that definitely tells me to do this or that.  Why can't I have that?

I Chose Alcohol Over Getting Fucked

I decided, oh, last week that last/Friday night I was going to my favorite speakeasy in town after work.  It felt like the right thing to do before my sister comes home for an undetermined amount of time.  Plus, I want to maintain my status as a semi-regular, and it had been a couple months since I stopped by.  So yes, this was basically a planned thing.

However, earlier this week, one of my stripper girlfriends, ****e, who I have not seen in a long while, texted that she and another stripper girlfriend, ***i*, is doing a house party also last/Friday night.  Getting freaky with sexy ladies who are down to fuck around is my jam, and that too is something that I should do before my sister comes back to town because, well, doing such shit while she's in town seems kind of yucky.  (If she stays here for several weeks, though, I probably will change my mind and get my freak on.  I am an old man, but I do have carnal pleasures that need to be indulged, and I don't know how long I can hold out if she's going to be here for a long time.)  But ... I wanted to spend my night drinking.

I didn't spend a whole lot of angst deciding between the two.  If I were to do only one thing, it would be the speakeasy.  It's what I had my heart set on.  Also, as big as the checks that come with eating and drinking there might be, it's a lot less than what I would have spent on sexytime with one or two women.  Finally, there was the commute I had to consider: The speakeasy is in south Minneapolis, so it's not close to work, but I think I can get there faster than to north Minneapolis, where the party's at, especially during afternoon rush hour.

With all that said, I was hoping beyond hope that if I got out of work early enough, and if I went to and left the speakeasy early enough, I could get to the party at its tail end, and so I would be able to do both.  Alas, it was not to be.  I stayed about 90 minutes past what I should have at work.  (This should be its own blog post that I will probably expound upon once it becomes more of a problem: My boss is making a renewed effort to cut down on overtime by having a second person come in early a following workday in order to do all the stuff in The Third Department we should be leaving the previous workday, if that makes sense.  I maybe should have followed that yesterday/Friday so I could leave after eight hours and do everything I wanted to do, but 1) there isn't a second person coming in early on Saturdays, 2) there wasn't a second person to help me in The Third Department yesterday/Friday, and 3) I am set in my ways and decided to finish everything by myself anyway.)  Also, I need cash money to go to the stripper party, and I didn't think I had time to run to an ATM to grab some.

And yet ... when I got to the speakeasy, it looked like both ****e and ***i* called me, or at least butt-dialed me.  I texted them that I probably wouldn't make it by the time the party was over.  They said they could stay a little bit after.  But by then I was deep into my second cocktail, and I don't know if it was me being tired over the course of the day or my old age, but I got super sleepy, too tired to even attempt to get to an ATM and then to the party which may or may not have been over.  So I said no, sorry, it won't work.  I was at the speakeasy for almost two hours.  I got to my car, slept for half an hour, woke up because I needed to pee, then went to the arcade close to the speakeasy so I could use its bathroom and eat a pizza.

And now, to be honest, I wonder if I made the right decision.  I haven't seen these two women in a while, and they are both crazy as fuck.  It would have cost me a pretty penny to be jobbed by them, and the last time I got HJs from two women at the same time it wasn't all that great.  But maybe these two would've been better, and maybe they would have cost me less.  Also, I can only say no to them for so long before they stop letting me know about parties they're working.

If they had told me last week they were doing this party, maybe my plans would be different.  Dammit, man, I am paralyzed by indecision and regret.

Great, Now The Ant Is Going To Kill Me Because I Can't Kill The Ant

So I finally got around to washing my dishes when I saw a big ant trying to swim and/or not drown in the water in a dirty dish I hadn't yet cleaned.  (Mental note: Wash dishes more often.)  I stared at it as it was thrashing to and fro, deciding what to do.  It's a big ant, and I'm scared that if it doesn't die -- or if I don't kill it -- it'll summon other big ants to God knows where.

I finally decided to show it some mercy by pouring the water out of the dish.  But just as I did it, the ant curled into a ball and just stayed there.  Guess it drowned or its lungs burst from all the water (do ants have lungs?) so I used my sponge to scrape it into the garbage.

I'm trying to finish the rest of the dishes when, just to make sure, I look back into the garbage can.  And goddamn, I see that ant is alive, looking at a way to get out of the garbage.  I need to kill it, but with what?  I decided to get the broom from the pantry and shove it into the garbage can.  (For the record, I had just changed bags.  The only thing I put into it is the wrapping from a Chobani yogurt cup.)  I jam that broom hard, really hard, all over the bag ... but the ant is still alive.  I should have just put my foot through the garbage can, and the ant, but I'm too scared to kill that way.

The next step is bug spray.  I go downstairs, find one Father bought that works on fleas (we don't have fleas, he probably got it on sale), and I spray the entire plastic bag inside the garbage can with that fucking spray.  Guess what?  It's still alive.  I'm dealing with the fucking Terminator ant here.  And now the house has that sickly fragrant smell of bug spray wafting all over.  I had to open the windows and turn on the stove vent just to ventilate the smell.

At this point I don't know what to do.  I decide fuck it, I know there's nothing in it except a Chobani wrapper and the ant, but I'm chucking this into the garbage bin outside.  So I unlock the door, open the lid, and slide out the empty plastic bag into the bin.

I know that infernal fucking thing is still alive.  I threw in a garbage bag full of things that big ant can subsist on, like a banana peel.  He'll get strong from that peel, manage to climb up the side of the bin, get out, find his way back inside, come up to my room, and kill me.  He'll fucking kill me because I was too chickenshit scared to kill it.

Goddammit, what I didn't I just crush that fucking thing with my bare hands when I had the chance?!

(This Is The Blog Post I Meant To Publish Yesterday/Thursday)

This has been the toughest bracket I've wrestled with for a long time, if not ever.  On the one hand, people in the know say that this field is replete with upsets.  On the other hand, people are pointing out the advanced metrics that say Auburn, Duke, Houston and Florida are historically good, so upsets taking them out are highly improbable.

With those contrasting possibilities dancing in my head at the same time, it took me a lot of hours thinking while I went to not one but two bars to think on Wednesday.  Finally, well, I split the difference between the teams I really wanted to pick and teams I think could win, but I'm lukewarm about.  I don't know how much of my thinking will matter because some weird upset will blow one part of the bracket to hell, like it annually does to mine.  But we climb aboard this rollercoaster and see where it takes us ... even though I always crash in the end.

Addendum To: Next Weekend Will Be Hella Busy

Welp, my thinking that ABC will highlight my alma mater for one of their four weekend afternoon slots came true.  They're playing Saturday afternoon ... just as my volunteer shift is ending.  I wished it had been a couple hours earlier because then the whole Game would happen right as we are volunteering.  Instead, there is a possibility we could watch it.  We would just have to find a place really close to our volunteer site in order to catch tip-off.  And then, on top of all that, there's the Loons Match I really, really want to go to, and in order to get there before first kick, I probably need to leave late in the First Half.

Ugh, Christ.  I am asking the group for its opinion, and I'll most likely go with what the people say.  But things would be so much easier if I didn't have a choice, to be honest.

I Don't Know If I'm Gonna See My Baby For Valentine's Day ...

... and by my baby I mean my ATF at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version).  There's a snowstorm coming this/Friday afternoon.  How much will fall will determine whether I dare brave driving all those miles down there to see her or not.

I waited till the rerun of the evening news and the weather report then to tell me, but they still don't know.  The problem is when the air aloft will be injected with moisture as the, uh, disturbance passes through the state.  The sooner it is injected, the more snow we'll get.  The model I saw on the news backed off snow totals to around two inches.  That ain't great to drive around in, but I've driven through worse.  But other forecasts think it'll be closer to three inches and, at the high end, six, and those amounts make me want to go home as soon as possible and shut the door.

So dang it, I'll keep waiting to see if anything definitive is declared in the morning, or maybe I'll check weather forecasts while at work in the afternoon.  But I'll have to make a decision about who my Valentine's Date will be at some point during the day, my ATF or my hand.

Statis/Paralysis/Lazy Sunday

See, when I wonder if I should be doing more with my life, it's days like this.  I could clean my room because I have the time, but I don't want to.  I could look into finding other work -- and after going off on that asshole at work, maybe I should -- but I don't want to, at least not right now.  I could go out an exercise, but I don't know when we'll be having dinner.  And tonight I might go downtown to The Taste Of Minnesota because one of my stripper girlfriends will be there, but ... you know, my car and ... well, I don't know if I want to ruin my groove of doing nothing.

Some people think this should be a great day because I have nothing I have to do.  I don't know.

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

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

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

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

Oh, look at me.  I'm taking time off to blog post because I still don't quite know where the hell I should go for the eclipse.  I hate my job, I can't stand my boss right now, and I feel like I can't breathe when I go to work.  At the same time, I've sent my resume to a couple places and I called a couple people asking for jobs, but no one has called me back yet.  (By the way, I deleted my last blog post where I was complaining about my current job in case I don't have another job to go to.)  Meanwhile I begged off Thursday afternoon because I think I am going to the Frozen Four that afternoon, but I think I'll visit my friend for some fun first.  And now I'm scared as hell I will go to the wrong place and miss the eclipse because of clouds.  The only reason I'm taking this vacation is the eclipse.  Then again, I could also be at the job I hate right now.

I have no good choices.  Fuck my life.

This Particular Situation Should Be Answered In An Advice Column

OK, this kind of is an addendum on this blog post, but 1) that blog post really was about not going to see Fleet Foxes on the 4th of July and 2) I am going to take this situation a little farther afield, so I think this should stand on its own.

So yeah, I was kind of regretting committing to the Nickel Creek concert I had some buyer's remorse over, and I was hoping for a lifeline/miracle.  And yesterday/Sunday afternoon, I got one: He could not go because the childcare that night fell through.  He was going to sell the other ticket.

Yes, this was my chance to undo all I did -- get my money back, go to the United Match, all that.  But ... and I do mean this sincerely, there are a couple logical, non-nefarious thoughts that popped into my head that led me to ask this man to undo our arrangement.  First, I know it is quite difficult to sell single tickets, especially when compared to selling two.  I can see a couple wanting to see this concert because their Saturday night suddenly came free.  This guy wouldn't be able to do that if I still had this seat.

Second, and I hope this doesn't sound creepy: I had the expectation that I was going to see Nickel Creek with him.  I don't know the guy, and I'm not really into strangers, and I sure as hell am not looking at this like a date.  But we are in the same affinity group, so we have that to talk about as we're getting drinks or waiting for the main act during intermission.  I am definitely not looking forward to sitting next to some random person.  I know I need to reach out beyond my bubble of trust, socialize, and take a risk by talking to someone I don't know.  But I'm not into looking at the seat next to me thinking that he or she (probably he) thinks that our seats used to belong to someone and his spouse.  That's just too weird, man.  Maybe that shouldn't matter.  But considering the circumstances by which I became aware of this ticket, I think at least meeting up with the person selling it is not too much to ask.  And so if he can't go, I don't want to, either.  Does that make me an asshole?

Problem potentially is, I did not say that, or anything implying that, when I texted him that it might be best if I get my money back and he gets the ticket back because he can now attempt to sell a pair.  From his point of view, maybe my request to take this all back would come off as weird; why would I care if I don't know the person I sit next to when we're both just there for Nickel Creek?  He must think something else is going on ... like I was really looking forward to seeing the concert with him.  Oh God, he must think I'm a creep.  Not to mention that I am actually asking for money back.

Seeing as I want to un-fuck myself, and since he asked that I choose whether to keep or sell back the ticket by this/Monday afternoon, I just transferred the ticket back to him.  And I texted him (at 12:02 a.m. -- I have no boundaries) that I gave back the ticket to him, please give me back my money when he can.  I'll tell you that just before I bought the ticket from him, I suddenly had the idea that this guy could be catfishing me.  I've never seen him; he could be an elderly woman living in Alaska for all I know.  But he had enough of a Facebook trail that I believe he is who he says he is.  And assuming that we are upstanding members of this same social group, I will trust that in the morning, he will give back the money.

And yet I wonder if I'm being a dick for doing all this.  Maybe I should just go to the concert, just because I did all this and I have left a trail of destruction and, possibly, mistrust in order to un-do what I kind of think is a rash mistake.  On top of all that, I'm doing this so I can go watch Minnesota United, who I watched piss down their legs Saturday night to Austin, 4-1.  LAFC is in bad form right now, but they're in playoff position and the Loons are not.  Another ass-kicking could be in the cards, and I decided to put this poor dude through a bunch of crap so I could witness a bunch of crap?

This is like a Seinfeld episode from hell.  Miss Manners, what should I do?

Of Course Two Things Have To Happen At The Same Time

Tomorrow/Thursday night two events are happening at the same time, both of which I want to go to: A First Round NCAA Women's Hockey Tournament Game between Minnesota-Duluth and Clarkson, and a rally and concert only for Minnesota United FC season-ticketholders at First Avenue.  I want to go to both.  Alas, they're happening pretty much at the same time in the evening.

I'm still thinking about which one to go to, but right now, I'm leaning toward the First Ave. event.  I love sports, and I especially love Games between teams I am not emotionally invested in.  Tournament Games, where the stakes are at its highest?  Even better.  But that First Ave. concert/rally is intended for STHs like me, even if I will have to pay $25 to attend.  There will probably be fees, too.  And I looked at the price of a ticket for the Bulldogs-Golden Knights Game; it's five bucks, so even with fees it'll be, what, $15 less?  Less than half the price?  OK, I'm still thinking, I guess.

By the way, the tournament wasn't going to be set up with matchups and times until Sunday, and I, in fact, assumed that the First Round Game, the winner of which was going to face Minnesota on Saturday, was going to be on Friday.  Either they changed it this Year or, well, I didn't realize the NCAA changed the format so that tournament Games would be space a Day apart.  So when I saw that the Game was going to be tomorrow/Thursday and thus create a conflict, I think I muttered, "Ah, shit" to myself.

Actually, there is a third thing that was happening around the same time.  I scheduled a massage tomorrow evening.  When I reserved a spot, either I didn't know there was going to be a rally and concert that same night until I got an e-mail from MNUFC or I didn't realize it was the same evening.  That the Game was the same night was just a further annoyance.

I think I'll hope to move up the massage.  If not, I'll have to cancel.  And, also by the way, up to yesterday I didn't think I would be doing any of these events because there apparently was supposed to be a huge blizzard coming tomorrow and Friday.  But what initially was supposed to dump 7-10" was ratcheted down to 2-5".  And since the temperature is supposed to be above freezing till part of tomorrow evening, I think a lot of the snow will melt on contact.  I am going to go out and do something.  What, I don't know.  But I will do something.

Fun Times, And No Fun Times

I came home from the basement bar last/Friday night sated, drink- and especially food-wise.  But I was so happy, and buzzy, that I was on one, and so I went to Taco Bell to eat 1,000 more calories.  I could have stayed home and make a sandwich from the fridge and both saved money and probably ate less.  My problem in a nutshell, huh?

---

I had plans on watching the EPL this/Saturday morning.  But the place in downtown Minneapolis I wanted to go to is also showing Six Nations Rugby, and I can't get into that, at least not right now.  There's another bar just down Nicollet that has recently re-opened (more like resurrected itself over the past year after the pandemic) to regular hours, but it's an Arsenal bar and Arsenal is playing at 9 a.m., and I kind of want to be alone.  I could have gone to the bar in St. Paul, which was the one I went to last Saturday, but I don't want to go back there two Saturdays in a row, plus I went there last Saturday because I was going to go in to work after EPL and it was relatively close by.  We apparently got caught up from work delayed by last week's storm in the South around Wednesday, I think, so there's no overtime offered nor needed today, and so I'll just avoid the whole area today.

And yet, because of my inebriation, I went to bed relatively early and woke up a bit past 8:30.  If I really, really wanted to go watch EPL, I think I could have gotten dressed quickly and drove like a bat out of hell to a bar in time.  Maybe.  (Actually, I woke up a bit before 8:30 because I laid in bed for a good bit.)  See, if I decide not to go out to watch soccer, I want my body not to wake up until it's way too late to have the opportunity to go out to watch soccer.  By waking up around 8:30, I'm torn between bolting out of bed and peeling away to a bar or agonizing about letting a fun time pass me by.

Oh, well.  I have chores and errands -- this blog, watering Father's plants, getting the car washed, getting a shave, getting tested, visiting Grandmother's friend, paying for my storage unit, buying baking soda and mini-Pepsis, maybe shoveling and salting the driveway and back deck, and ... well, other stuff.  I don't know if I'll have time to do it all.  I guess I should figure that if I went to watch soccer, I wouldn't have been able to do some or even all of the things I just listed, and should do.

And come to think of it, it's about time I do those things.

Laugh It Up, Garbagemen

OK, so ****e* got done cleaning my house last night, and after I felt up her new titties and sucked on her nipples, I had a choice of whether I would go out and have a beer or stay home and ... do something.  I decided on the latter because I went out for a beer the previous night and I would have, at best, 45 minutes to quaff a beer or a cider, and that wasn't worth going out.  But I kind of just ... well, doomscrolled and did a whole lot of nuttin' until I got tired.

What I forgot to do was put out the trash and recycling.  When I slowly lolled around when I got up at around 7:30 yesterday/Thursday morning, I realized as much, and then decided not to dart out there and roll both bins down the driveway.  I am kind of paralyzed right now; I know I have to start packing, but I don't know where to start, plus I wanted to see Grandmother's friend (more on that in an upcoming blog post -- hopefully), plus I wanted to shave.  All the stuff made me think about whether I could do it all, and if so, in what order.  So I just laid in bed until I absolutely had to get up and go.

Once I finally decided I was going to get a shave first, I grabbed the remaining recyclables in the paper bag I store underneath the kitchen counter and went out to dump those in that bin, then bring both that bin and the trash bin down to the end of my driveway.  But just as I stepped out, I saw the garbage truck roll right across the house.  Oh, shit!  The two garbagemen saw me, and that was my signal to drop the bag, run on the ice and snow of my driveway to the garbage bin, and roll it down so they can pick it up and take my trash away.  But when I grabbed the bin and started hauling ass, the truck sped away.  You fuckers!

But then I paid attention to the side of the truck.  Whoops -- wrong garbage company.  I think we had them before, but we use a different one now.  I'm guessing they saw from their perch high on the garbage truck that my garbage bin is a different color from theirs.  Now, did they have to be so rude about skedaddling?  Probably not, but maybe they were in a rush and it didn't behoove to slow down and tell me they're not the guys picking up my trash.

I looked back at where I dropped my bag of recyclables and gloves.  And then I imagined how I looked from their point-of-view.  And they had to have laughed their asses off once they got back to the garbage dump: "So there was this guy who saw me roll right past his house, and he panics because he thought that we were going to pick up his trash.  So he drops his bag and gloves on the ground and slips over to the bin and starts bringing it down on the driveway.  But then we see it's green and not black, and so we just blew past him!  And he was just standing there with his dick in his hands, that dumbfuck!   Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!  We're so superior to him!!

Ok, that last sentence might have been my self-hate coming out.  But I'm sure they thought I looked funny when I freaked out at seeing them, not realizing they're not my garbage company.  Laugh it up, garbagemen.  You might be a necessity, but you're still fucking garbage.

To Do Something You've Never Done Before, Or To Do Something You Do Once A Year?

So I did my last blog post at Black Hart, after the second of four World Cup Matches.  I decided I was going to stay there for the first 2 1/2 Matches of the Thanksgiving quadruple-header and leave after the First Half of Portugal-Ghana.

I decided that because I thought I would be tired.  But while I said in my last blog post that I wasn't 100% alert, I thought I could go another 1 1/2 Games.  That would mean I "did the marathon" and saw all four Group Stage Matches in a day.  I've never done it before, but after I published that post I thought about doing it.  I mean, why not?  It's ... well, something I've never done before.  That might be a strange "accomplishment," and I don't think anybody will be impressed except me, but still.

And this thought crystallized in my head: "When will I ever do this again?"  That is a tremendous thought to me.  When confronted with choices, I usually go with the thing that I probably won't be able to do again.  That makes sense, right?  Not only is it a quadruple-header, it's one on Thanksgiving, and part of probably the only World Cup to ever be contested in the winter.

But ... it is Thanksgiving.  With the arguable exception of Christmas, there is no holiday as steeped in tradition as Thanksgiving.  There's turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, family (well, not me, but that's been the way it's been for a long time, and I don't mind), and football.  And I have a tradition on this day that is basically set.  I go to the local grocery store to get a turkey dinner before the first NFL Game of the day at 11:30, and then I ... just watch football.  I think.  OK, so maybe I do just one thing.  Maybe two with A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, even though that's harder now that I can only see that special through streaming.  But the holiday is sacred because you do the same thing on that day every year.  That's not just routine, nor is it boring, let alone stultifying.  It is an exercise in self-renewal, that you are the same person that you were, and that you plan on being, and that is worth revisiting annually.

So would I break that tradition, that eating that turkey dinner, just so I can watch four World Cup Matches?  Do I do something I've never done before instead of something I do every year?  The answer is ... no.  I left just before 11 like I planned.  There are two big caveats to this.  One, I think that I am going to try to do the quadruple Sunday.  I initially thought I would go to Brit's Sunday because the last Game that day, the "nightcap," is Spain-Germany, arguably the marquee matchup in the World Cup's Group Stage.  But the Timberwolves play at Target Center that afternoon, and even though that Game starts 90 Minutes after the Match begins, I'm not sure I want to go through any traffic I might face that afternoon.  I don't work Wednesday; I think I'll venture to Brit's for the Games that day, even though I have to pay for parking.  Anyway, if I am going to Black Hart for Spain-Germany, and since they are the only place in the Twin Cities that will be open for every single Match of the World Cup -- well, why not try the quad Sunday?  So that means I could leave early today.

The other caveat: After getting that dinner and eating it at home and juicing a lemon for a cocktail I'll enjoy hopefully before 10 p.m., I did fall asleep.  Probably conked off before the start of Brazil-Serbia at 1, and I woke up at 4:30.  So maybe I don't have the stamina to watch four soccer Matches.  But I think I'm going to try Sunday.  Hopefully I'll pull it off.  I've never done it before!

Anyway, my point of this blog post is that sometimes I do things because I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it again, and sometimes I do things because I always do them, and those two things seem to completely oppose each other, and so what do you do when you're confronted with being able to do only one of those things at the same time?

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: January 2022

Maybe this should have dawned on me sooner, but I've done this two or three years now, and it looks as though I will be buying Hooters calendars till the day I die.

January 2022 is good overall.  A dozen babes dot the month.  All of them are beautiful, of course, but most of them don't stand out.  I think I can mention five.

In fifth place is Nichole of Palm Bay, Fla.  She doesn't stand out -- her non-smile is off-putting -- but she's sporting a red two-piece bikini and she's full-on so I can see her big (fake) breasts.

In fourth place is The Main Girl, Gracie of Brandon, Fla.  She is wearing a one-piece bikini, which is a big demerit in my book.  But it's white, and she has long brunette hair, and she is quite stunning to look at.  She actually looks like Brittany Palmer, the UFC Ring Girl, artist and nude (on OnlyFans at least) model.  Her physical attributes overcome her relatively chaste clothing.

In third place is what appears to be Gracie's co-worker, Jordan, also of Brandon, Fla.  A long blonde who also is photographed full-on.  Wearing an orange two-piece, and she's grabbing the bottoms of her bikini bottom, which is great mostly because it's not conspicuously covering her stomach or anything like that.

Now this is where I get torn.  In second place is gorgeous, gorgeous Dakota out of Palm Bay, Fla.  She's posed on her side and her left arm is in front of her body.  But still, whoa, what a body she has.  She's tall and thin and lanky.  She's got long, light brown hair.  Her face and smile ... devastatingly beautiful.  And she's wearing what, I guess, you can call a Burberry-patterned two-piece, if you all know what I'm talking about.  My God, she's hot.

But she's not showing her ass.  Cassidy of Grand Prairie, Tex., is.  It's not a whole lot of ass.  Tough to see from the side, which is how she's posed, but you can tell she's showing, what, 30-40% of it.  On a technicality, Cassidy and her near-nudity puts her in the top spot.

But I jerked off to all these women earlier in the evening.  And Dakota ... oh, Dakota. ...

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: October

Since my folks are now gone, I can now proudly display my Hooters calendar on the wall of my bedroom, where it should properly go.  I'm looking at it while I type this, and my urge to masturbate to all these gorgeous women continues.

October is a fantastic month, really.  There are a dozen beautiful girls, and my mind has wandered and lingered over all twelve at some point.  The Main Girl, Keaton of Humble, Tex., is wearing a full-length white bodysuit unzipped down to the bottom of her breasts.  You can't see them, not even her cleavage.  But the implication of that unzipping, combined with the wet look of her long, dark brown hair and her beautiful, expressionless face, is growing on me.  Well, as I type this, because I've kind of already made my list, and honestly, Keaton's not on it.  If I did this tomorrow, I might change the list.  That's how good October 2021 is, damn!

With apologies to Keaton and five other girls, I have bifurcated the month.  The six I want to single out are, in increasing order:

• 6th: Ashley, Atlantic City, N. J.  She's wearing a blue two-piece bikini, but her top is one of those fluffy, puffy, ruffled thingies.  But it looks like that top is hiding some big titties.  That gets her on the list.
• 5th: Madeleine, San Antonio.  Her bikini top is more like a cutoff t-shirt, which is kind of white trash to me, but really works on her.  Helps that she has a fantastic smile.  But it's kind of weird that the shirt is black and her bottoms are a blue-green color.
• 4th: Lynnin, Clarksville, Tenn.  Leopard print two-piece -- that's a plus.  Closed-lip smile -- works on her.  She is leaning slightly back while her left hand rests on a counter, and that really works because it gives her abs this sexy vertical ridge.  It looks as if she works out because those look more toned than maybe they really are.  And I just noticed that she has two barrettes in her hair, and you don't see that on a Hooters waitress, or a model, anywhere.  It ain't great, however, to be named after a fabric.
• 3rd: Briana, Sunrise, Fla.  Now this is where I get tripped up when it comes to ranking these Hooters hotties.  She is fucking devastating, and her pose makes her go bang! and I am hard just looking at her so I can describe Briana to you.  Darker skin, exceedingly long black hair that's wet because Briana was possibly told by the photographer to submerge herself quickly in the pool that she might be standing in.  She's sporting a yellow two-piece bikini, and her top has that wire that follows the contour of her breasts and cleavage, like someone pushed the middle of Briana's bikini top in and that part just stayed there.  (Her boobs seem to be a good size, too.)  Finally, her hands are up on her head, and that gives the impression she's stretching out her body, and goddamn she's got a great body, vertical ab ridge and all!
• 2nd: Lily, Ocala, Fla.  Briana sits in third because the top two babes achieve the requirement of showin' ass.  Side profiles aren't my thing, but Lily turns her ass toward the camera enough to show that she is wearing a thong-ish bikini bottom (colored white, like her bikini top) and thus exposing a good part of her hiney, which is firm and good-looking.
• 1st: Jordan, Mesa, Ariz.  Jordan swings out her ass more and proves moreso that she is exposing her butt.  And it's a great butt -- you know, the onion kind.  Being dressed in an orange two-piece -- the color of Hooters, after all -- is an advantage.  As a cherry on top, she's got long blonde hair and a gorgeous face.

So congratulations to Jordan, and don't worry, I've already jerked off to this month.  But I might have to again.  I might have to re-evaluate my list again because I can't get enough of October 2021 ... especially Briana, who, over time, might be The Best Hooters Waitress/Model In Calendar History -- my fucking God. ...

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: August

Need to get this in before September goes into October and I have to review a second month.

A baker's dozen of babes.  Overall it's ... good.  I can single out seven of them, and of those seven, I will put three in "Honorable Mention": Jazzmyn (Pensacola Beach, Fla.), wearing a lavender two-piece bikini whose arms are awkwardly bent up towards her big tits; Jordan (Brandon, Fla.), who has her back mostly turned to the camera and who has on this white, see-through robe, but it's wet and so it's clinging to her ample ass, which you can see because she's wearing a thong; and Samantha (Dedham, Mass.), who is lying down but you can see her bikini bottom and, surprisingly, it appears as though it's a full cut to show no ass.

Now to the other four ... and in fourth place I'll select Joey (Albuquerque, N. M.).  She's kind of in side profile, but it shows off her hot, slim figure.  Not completely a fan of her long, blonde hair covering her left breast, but her boobs are real, and it complements her print top real well.  And I love the come hither look on her face.

You know what?  I can't pick between Erin (Newark, N. J.) and Madison (Weston, Fla.).  Erin has a small photograph and she seems tiny, but she's got some huge (fake) tits that her white two-piece can barely contain.  Madison is laying on her side, horizontally, and it's such a sexy goddamn pose because it seemingly elongates her height.  She's absolutely statuesque.  Apples and oranges -- I'll put them both as tied in second place.

But the winner of the month is the Main Girl, Jennifer, of Alcoa, Tenn.  (Alcoa?  I think I've seen that city in a previous Hooters calendar -- Jennifer's a vet!)  She looks like a spitfire, and I like her blue-and-white striped two-piece bikini.  She's shot in side profile, which isn't great, but at least we get to see her ass, and her bottom is a Brazilian (is that the right term?  Fuck if I know) cut, meaning she's showing, like, half of her real nice ass.  And like I said, if a girl is showin' ass, she won't be surpassed by someone who ain't showing hers.  There's no one else in August, so Jennifer gets the top spot!

I have already masturbated to this month, but I might do it again, just in case.

Eating Fast Food As An Act Of Rebellion

I should be forever grateful for having free food to eat for dinner, I know.  Still, for the past couple nights I have not been impressed with what I ate.  We had, as a main course, some ... well, I really don't know.  What I'm guessing is so really fatty beef, the kind with a lot of fatty skin, the top of which you could still see the short hairs on the dermis.  I could eat it, sure, but it's not my favorite.  Worse than that, for the past couple nights I have had to eat this dark green, sugary bean soup Mother makes on occasion.  I fucking hate eating/drinking it.  Just hate it.

So, anticipating I would have to eat all that crap for a third night in a row, and in a way rebelling and asserting my own independence in an effort to eat tasty food, I ate fast food before coming home.  I thought I would be coming home closer to 5 because there is a lot of work at work, but instead I was able to come home closer to 4.  But I had told Father before I left in the morning that I would be coming home by 5.  But, I then decided I was going to eat before going home ... and eating.  I wasn't coming home at 4 after all.

But where to eat?  I couldn't decide.  I first thought Dairy Queen, because the warm days aren't going to last and ice cream won't make sense by the time it's cold out (not like I haven't eaten ice cream when it's been cold out anyway).  But there was this frozen drink I haven't tried at McDonald's yet -- now, which one was it?  It didn't matter; I jerked my car over to the lane in order to turn, and I used a deal to get the blue ... uh, slushie (?) and a McChicken.  But it was still warm out, and it'd be a waste of a day to not spend at least five minutes enjoying ice cream outside.  So, I texted my parents saying that I would get home closer to 4:30, and then I used a deal for a small chocolate shake.  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah.  Oh, I got home closer to 4:45.  I think they're used to me not coming home when I said I would, but it's something I should work on.

So, I ate a McChicken, a medium blue raspberry (?) slushie, and a small chocolate shake before coming home.  Oh, and I ate a banana and a croissant, food Father forces me to take to work to eat.  And what do my folks have waiting for me?  Not that scary fatty beef fat skin.  It was spaghetti.  My favorite food.  And it tasted good.  And it would have tasted better if I had an emptier stomach.  Oh, and no sugar bean slop tonight, either.

Maybe I should have known I wouldn't eat that crap three nights in a row. ...

No Movie -- Winter Has Come

This impending blizzard (they're saying 9-to-twelve inches -- the first Minnesota snowstorm should never be this heavy or bad) could not have come at a worse time of day/night, or day of the week.  (I probably say that about the first snowstorm every winter, but I feel it now.)  Never mind it coming just at the start of The Busiest Travel Day In America; at least I'm not driving or flying anywhere to see family, because it looks as though I wouldn't be able to make it there if I had to.

Moreover, even though it appears to be starting right now, the heaviest of this storm is going to fall overnight -- while I'm sleeping and just before I have to drive to work.  That means that not only will I have to wake up early and shovel my way out of my driveway (and try to avoid a heart attack while I'm at it), chances are I won't have the opportunity to make a dent into this storm by shoveling in the evening, before I go to bed, because there may not be any snow to shovel.  The worst of both worlds.

And the uncertainty over the beginning of this blizzard fucked me up, too.  I really, really wanted to see a movie before the advent of the storm hit.  But I didn't know when it was going to hit.  If it were later in the evening, I definitely would have seen a movie.  If it started in the afternoon, my commute would have been hell, but there would have been no doubt I needed to get home.  But the forecasts finally told me it was going to start late afternoon/early evening.  On top of that, I had two films from which to choose, both of which had logistical hangups.  I could go see Parasite, but that started 90 minutes after I got out of work and I didn't want to dink around town before seeing it, or The Irishman, which is supposed to be 3 1/2 fucking hours long, and while I love Scorsese, I don't know if I could sit through a movie that long.  And both films had the complication of being done after 7, which is the time most of the forecasts I saw predicted the storm would begin, and which would force me to miss The Conners, which is a TV show I am starting to watch religiously.

Finally, I decided to skip it.  I could just imagine myself not paying attention to whichever flick I decided because I was worried I would be driving home in the driving snow.  Instead I did the following:

• Ate Happy Hour Arby's;
• Moved up my Thanksgiving Eve tradition of being a turkey footlong at Subway; I'll be digging out my house instead of going out to eat tomorrow;
• Got the lottery tickets Father wants;
• Topped off the coolant tank in the old car;
• And made sure the garage door worked -- and it didn't, so I had to open it up manually, but then it wouldn't close and the remote wouldn't work, until it did, and that took a goddamn hour.

And as it so happens I looked out the window and saw a sprinkling of the white stuff on the deck.  I made the right decision.  Staying in Minnesota for the winter?  Right now I'm thinking I made the wrong fucking decision.