Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Friday, August 28:

• We go back to Thursday, August 27, the first day of the State Fair.  Didn't have as much money as I wanted, so I relied on my credit card for the Blue Barn Sweet Squeakers (which is fast becoming an annual staple), the Frozen Blue beer, Swedish coffee, and Cherry Jumbo Limeade Float from, uh, that place (I should commit the shop's name to memory; I can see getting this year after year, too).  But I shelled out cash for the Gizmo (first time ever I've eaten at this place), the corn, and the Peachey's Amish donut.  With a tip for the Gizmo the total is: $26.
• On Tuesday the 25th I went to Caribou before work partly so I could get cash.  A medium mocha (just a mocha, not one of their signature mochas), minus trivia and plus, gets to: $7.25.
• That evening I had to go to our alumni Game-watching place to make sure it was OK for us to watch our Game, which is that Saturday, there.  We could.  With tip I spent: $37.
• All the way back to Saturday, August 15, where I went to Porchfest at the Wedge neighborhood.  Wish I could have spent some more time down there, walking through the streets and catching bands playing.  I tipped the bands, and I also got a cup of lemonade from a family selling it.  Total amount I spent for Porchfest: $5.
• Monday, August 3: ******a, oh, ******a: $150.
• We hurtle back to Tuesday, July 28, where I had to see Supergirl a second time because I missed the very start of it the first time.  Ticket, popcorn, pop, minus my $5 discount because I used points (I got food with a movie for the first time in a long time, and knowing how much it regularly costs, I won't be buying food again for a while) comes out to: $17.30.
• Sunday, July 26 ... this is the day I wanted to drive to Iowa, but I had to wait for ****e* to get here, and I finally just left because her lazy but nice ass couldn't get out of her house when she promised she would.  Not mad, just disappointed.  I got to The Day The Music Died Memorial, which is out on a private cornfield, in the early evening.  Wish I had went when it wasn't blisteringly humid, but you can't predict the weather.  Still, it was eerie and moving, and I'm glad I got to pay my respects.  And I got to pay it alone; I got to the parking lot, which is across the gravel street from the memorial site, as another person was leaving, and no one came after me.  There was an RV of someone who was tending to the gravel parking lot I parked at.  I got the feeling she and her family appointed themselves as caretakers of the memorial and the parking lot.  They had little trinkets to sell, and they asked for donations.  I appreciated that someone is dedicating themselves to keeping up the area, so I donated: $5.
• On Saturday the 25th I went out to Stillwater and got Nelson's Ice Cream.  This place is famous for heaping scoop upon scoop upon scoop of ice cream.  Their smalls are large.  I appreciate that in these days of paying more and getting less, but this was ridiculous.  With tip: $8.
• I wanted to get ice cream after I saw *****y, but her hot but finicky ass made me cum see her after ice cream.  And then she made me cum: $150.
• Thursday, July 23: I don't know if the date is right.  But I have this as the day I went to Nelson's -- not the ice cream shop in Stillwater but the deli place close to home.  Got a Hero, a medium chicken wild rice soup, and a can of RC Cola.  With tip the total was: $17.32.
• Wednesday the 22nd -- had to buy lottery tickets, both lotteries.  Total: $14.
• I then got gasoline.  Paid cash for it: $32.
• To Sunday the 19th, where I went to Grandpa Joe's for a Whistler pop.  Minus the bottle deposit I paid: $1.62.
• I then went to the Black Hart to watch some World Cup soccer.  Can of cider plus tip: $7.
• That night I went to a local theater to watch The Odyssey.  This is an historic one-screen place (although it's owned by a company that has a few historic one-screen places) that showed the film in 70mm.  This is a theater where the person running the screening is an aficionado, and he showed how better the resolution a flick is in 70mm by bringing out the reel in which the film is threaded.  I like the presentation.  I love the movie, too; it's fantastic, and the probable Oscar favorite for Best Film.  Small popcorn, small pop, and tips for concessions and the organist (I used my credit card for the ticket): $14.
• Finally, on Wednesday, July 15, I took that day and the following day off for World Cup Semifinals -- and, on this day, to take my car in for maintenance.  After the oil change and tire rotation, I took my vehicle to the car wash.  Paid for the wash, but the tip was in cash: $5.
• Because there was nothing seriously wrong with the car, I had time to go to Flameburger to take in breakfast.  Great to eat there; will return next year.  Got their meal of half an egg, hash browns and toast, and with a small apple juice and tip it cost me: $15.
• Later that afternoon I went to Brit's Pub to see Spain handcuff France, 2-0.  There went my World Cup pick.  With tip: $54.

I keep saying this because it remains true: I have to do these EWRs more often.

Good through August 28.

Another Busy Week Ahead

There's an MNUFC soccer Match I desperately want to get out of (more on that tomorrow, if I remember), and I have reserved a ticket to see the latest Spider-Man on Thursday.  (About that: When faced with the deadline to purchase an advanced ticket for five bucks, I chose Thursday ... just because.  And either I didn't think about it at the time or I decided I couldn't do it, but I now realize that I should have reserved a seat for an IMAX showing.  They don't have an IMAX screening on Thursday.  They have one tonight/Monday night ... but it's at a time where I would have to stay pretty late at work to make it make sense for me to drive to the theater instead of home.  Wish there was an earlier time that would fit a time I think I will get out of work tonight/Monday night.)  That also opens up the chance for me to see Super Troopers 3 on Wednesday, when I get out of work early.

So that's three days where I'm doing something after work, and they come back-to-back-to-back.  At my advanced age, that's a lot.  I'm tired just thinking about it.  But as long as I can frolic free without my parents even vaguely being disapproving (let alone knowing), I'll do it!

Ruined Showers; Times Before And At The Very Start Of Supergirl

So I still don't know when they're coming back.  That's good in the sense that I still have the house to myself and I still have the opportunity to go through my things (even though I probably won't).  The bad news is is that I was hoping they would come home to at least a semi-clean house, but that won't happen till they, well, come home.  In the meantime it's still hotter than hell outside so I have taken a shower in both the upstairs (Monday) and downstairs (last/Tuesday night) bathrooms, thus "ruining" their cleanliness.  They might be coming home to bathrooms as dirty as they were before ****e* came to clean it on Sunday.  And sure, she last came over in February, so everything needed a cleaning, but still.

---

So I also sated my OCD/principles and watched Supergirl again last/Tuesday night, and this time I was able to get to the theater in time to see it from the start.  I timed the beginning of the movie to the point of the movie where I came in last week -- four minutes.  I missed the first four minutes of the movie.  If only I had gotten my ass out off the toilet just four minutes earlier, I wouldn't've needed to subject myself to this again.  However, one thing is irking me.  I timed the preview time, i.e. the listed showtime to the time when Supergirl actually started.  Backdating four minutes, the preview time of the film last week was 20 or 25 minutes.  When I went last/Tuesday night, 25 minutes had passed from the listed showtime and, I swear, they were still in previews.  So does the preview time change from week to week?  I thought preview times shortened the longer a movie runs in theaters because fewer and fewer people pay for tickets to see it and therefore it doesn't make sense to show trailers of upcoming films for fewer and fewer eyeballs.  You mean to tell me that if I were running as late as I was last week to watch Supergirl this week, I would've made it to the start??  (Oh, by the way, last week I also watched Toy Story 5, and even though I was running 20-5 minutes late again, I got to my seat just as that film was about to begin.  To avoid getting bored by trailers, I will keep skirting preview times.)  

On the bright side, it wasn't a chore to see it a second time.  Knowing the general outline of what was going to happen next helped me understand the plot of the movie better.  Sure, it's not as if Supergirl is a deep film, but you know how confusing mass-market movies are these days.  And it wasn't the worst thing in the world to see.  I give it a, oh, B-/C+.

I Have To See Supergirl Again Because I Took A Shit For Too Long

I have this -- I think I've spoken about this before -- OCD thing whereby if I don't see a movie from the beginning, I will, most likely, pay another ticket to see it again so I can be sure to see it from the beginning.  Now, that is kind of a problem if I don't drop everything and make a concerted effort to get to the theater in time to make sure I see that film from the beginning.  But until last/Tuesday night, the last movie whose start I missed was Equalizer 3.

Well, I missed the start of Supergirl.  And what I really hate about myself is that I planned on getting there in plenty of time, and everything that I needed to happen so I could get there in plenty of time happened.  I was given a shift where, if I had a normal shift, I would get out at 3:30.  I never have a normal shift at work, but I only had to stay a little longer, till 3:45.  The listed showtime is 3:50, and they have so many trailers that I knew I had plenty of time to get there.  And I didn't want to get there so early that I would start looking at my watch to see how long after the listed showtime will the damn thing actually start.  I've grown to hate trailers, so, after I punched out at work, I went to the bathroom.  Nature called.

And that's where I fucked myself.  By the time I got done relieving myself, I looked at my watch and saw that it was, oh, around 4:05.  The theater is close to work, but it still took me about ten minutes.  And even though I was able to get a ticket, the guy giving me my ticket said I missed the first 5-10 minutes.

Goddammit!  I lollygagged.  I didn't look at my watch.  Seeing how much time I thought I had when I clocked out made me overestimate how much time I really had.  I was doomscrolling as I was pooping, proving once again that looking at your phone promotes brain rot.  And, sorry to get too graphic, I did have to go.  I picked up a limited time honey brown butter bacon, egg and cheese biscuit, a sausage burrito, and a coffee from McDonald's on the way to work, and that lubricated my excretory system.  It was the second time I had to void waste during my workday, and so when you need to do #2, you can't just say you're done if there's more you need to force out of your body.  Maybe I shouldn't've eaten any breakfast at all.  That would mean I wouldn't need to doo-doo, and I could've just gone to the theater instead.  But nope, I had this great plan laid out before me, and I just tossed it to the side.

And what really makes me hate myself?  Sorry, I don't think Supergirl's that good.  Now, please don't get this twisted.  There are a lot of Republicans and incels who hate this movie for culture war/rage bait reasons, which are not legitimate reasons.  I thought the movie was kind of rote and, um, boring.  But my OCD compels me to buy another ticket so I can see this mediocre flick again in its entirety.

I plan on seeing Toy Story 5 after work today/Wednesday.  I was hoping the showtimes for that movie and Supergirl would line up in such a way so that I could get to the theater super early, buy my ticket to Toy Story 5, and sneak in to see the start of Supergirl, then go see Toy Story 5 from the start.  But unless I get there in the afternoon, that can't happen.  Welp, that means I need to see Supergirl again either Tuesday or next Wednesday.  That's when the price of tickets are the cheapest at the theater I go to.  I may have OCD, but I also know a bargain when I see one.  And hell, I might change my mind and not see this C+ movie from the beginning anyway.  But I could've just avoided all this mess if I would've  taken advantage of the time I had and shit quicker.  So disappointed in myself.

Exercise Or My Stuff?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Thursday, April 9:

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

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

My God, I am so tired.  And I have been tired around this time of night (which is after midnight) for the past week or so.  What's causing this?  Spring forward got implemented a month ago, and sometimes I react negatively with changes at work, so I don't think my recent inability to stay up has anything to do with that.  But what is it?  I don't know.  All I know is I am too tired to blog post anything more than what you are seeing right now.

Still Fucking Haven't Done My Fucking Taxes Yet

One of the things I try to do in the month of March when it comes to taxes is list, in my day planner, all the numbers that I need to fill out the returns -- wages, withholding, capital gains, etc.  Well, it's down to the penultimate day and I still haven't done it.  Is it laziness?  Sure, maybe.  But I've been pulling down overtime like the dickens this month.  Also, I've been preparing for March Madness by doing research, and then ... well, yeah, I've been going out.  There are a lot of freebies I can get at restaurants, and by the time I'm done and come back home, I'm just tuckered out.

Things are going to be tight the next two days, too.  I'm seeing Project Hail Mary (in IMAX for only five bucks through my wireless carrier) tonight/Monday night.  Then, tomorrow/Tuesday is a day off for me.  Not to do my taxes, but something much funner than that, namely bringing in my parents' minivan for an oil change and tire rotation it might not need but I'm gonna do anyway because they won't tell me if it needs them.  Also, back when it was colder, I started the van and saw exhaust coming out of the passenger side.  Going to have them look at it, see if anything can be done, and how much it will cost to fix.  Oh, and anything else they see.  Hey, it's a beat-up car, but I need it to run, so if there's anything I can do to extend its life, I'll do it.  Shh, don't tell my folks.

OK, that ain't so fun.  But assuming nothing catastrophic happens when I bring it in in the morning, I'll have the rest of the day to watch the World Cup Playoffs.  There are still six spots available for the tournament taking place in the summer, and those spots are going to be determined in Matches played that day, specifically five in the afternoon and one at 10 at night.  I am going to see them all, if at all possible.  In particular, I'm going to my alumni Game-watching bar for the 10 p.m. Match.  It's for the last spot in the World Cup, and I want to enjoy seeing it.

Yeah, so with all that, how does one do their taxes?  Hell, how does one even begin to even look at their taxes??  I know, right???

Goddamn, Car Trouble Fucks Everything Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Time Is Not My Own (Again)

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

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

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

The TV Just Up And Helped Me

So the television set in my bedroom, the one that I got for free from my friend's friends, the one that My Father put in my bedroom when My Fucking Parents decided to redo my whole goddamn room ... well, it's been a challenge.  My Father replaced my TV set (and put the one I had, the one I bought, in the den that he would use once in a blue moon) probably because this one I got was bigger than the one I bought.  It has become clear since I started using it, however, that the I bought, even though it's much smaller, is more technologically advanced.  Beyond its old age, there are very small, first-world issues that make me not like this TV as much as the one I got for myself.  It takes more than ten seconds for it to come on, for example.  Also, sometimes the remote control doesn't work and I have to tap it on the back a few times; these guys really took this television through its paces over the years.  Finally, it doesn't have a "recall" or "back" button in the traditional sense.

What it does have instead is a feature whereby you can see up to the last six channels you were on (or fewer; it stores in memory the channels you were watching since you turned on the television).  You hit this TV's version of a "recall" or "back" button and six squares pop up on the bottom of the television screen.  They're all blank, and for a while there it pissed me off that I couldn't toggle between two channels.  But then I hit the remote's down arrow and voila, that's where up to the last six channels appeared in those boxes.  (You hit the down arrow again and the, I guess, "third" row are all the channels you have programmed onto the TV, and you can use the left and right arrows to scroll through them.)  So I finally understood how I could flip back and forth through channels; it's certainly not as fast as just hitting one button, but if I wanted to go through three or more, I can't really think of a faster way to do that.  So, it's a compromise.

Another thing so bothersome about this TV's interface comes from those six squares.  They always appear on the bottom.  If I'm watching a game on TV, the scorebug (the graphic that shows all the pertinent information on the game you're watching, such as score, which quarter/half/period is it, how much time is left, etc.) usually is on the bottom third of the screen.  So when a channel pops up and I want to just quickly see were in the game that game is before I go back to the other game, I can't see the score; instead, I see those stupid six boxes.  Yes, I guess I could wait the five-to-ten seconds to check the scorebug, but like I said, doing that is not in my nature.

Another graphic that popped up at the bottom of the television screen is the channel graphic.  You know, whenever you flip to a channel, you will see graphics that state what it is, like "41-2," or something.  So, if I want to use the "recall" or "back" button to toggle between channels, what happens is you select that channel from one of the on-screen boxes, the channel comes on with these six blank boxes obscuring your screen for four seconds or so, then the channel graphic obscures your screen for another four seconds or so.  Highly annoying, and not very user-friendly.

But then, maybe a few weeks ago, the damndest thing happened.  The channel box, the graphic that first appears when you get onto a channel, jumped from the bottom of the TV screen to the top.  Now, the graphics don't block my view of the score for as long as it did.  I have no idea how it happened.  I played with the settings, but I'm sure I didn't select anything unless I knew I wanted it.  It looks as though this TV, even though I'm sure it predates artificial intelligence, understood intuitively how upset I was that this graphic was blocking the scorebug, so it knew to place it on the top of the screen.  Now, why it couldn't do the same thing with the three rows of six squares, I don't know.

Still, I'll take it.  I'm glad the TV "got" me.  But is it good that it has a mind of its own, like HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey?  Honestly, with the way the country is right now, being spat out into space to die because AI was afraid it was going to be killed isn't the worst way to go.

What I'm Doing This Christmas Weekend; Christmas Song Review

It's not going to be much of a Christmas holiday for me.  I'm working today/Thursday/Christmas, and then, instead of just vegging at home, I've decided I am going to a few Hockey World Juniors Games, on Friday and Sunday.  I need to stand by my principle that I should go to things that might not come around here for a long time, and the Hockey World Juniors might not be in the Twin Cities ever again, at least not in my lifetime.  In fact, I changed my mind and bought tickets to not one but both Group Stage Games tomorrow/Friday at Mariucci.  I was going to go to Hooters at MOA after the afternoon Game, but as far as I know, Hooters will be around in 2026; the World Juniors will not.  I just need to figure out what I'm going to do inbetween Games.  Oh, and even though there are Games on Saturday, that's when I figure I'll just sleep in.  That's my time to relax for Christmas.

---

Before I delve into this Christmas' Christmas song, I have to apologize for doubling up.  I was looking through past Christmas song reviews and didn't realize that I wrote about Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree" twice, last year and in 2019.  I don't know how I forgot I did it twice.  Sorry.  I will do better and check beforehand.

My Christmas song for 2025 is a challenging one because it's not originally a Christmas song.  It's "My Favorite Things," from the musical The Sound Of Music.  I'm still trying to understand how it accreted its Christmas meaning after it was made, but let me go through the chronology as I understand it.  I'm using articles from Mental Floss, Billboard, and Wikipedia (two articles) to research this.

The Sound Of Music first appeared on Broadway in 1959, with the song showing up in Act I, completely devoid of its current meaning.  The cast album was released that year and topped the Billboard charts for 16 weeks, then stayed in the Top 10 for the next two years.  Now here's where it gets weird: Julie Andrews, who plays the main character of Maria in the film adaptation of The Sound Of Music, performed "My Favorite Things" on a variety show on CBS called The Garry Moore Show at Christmastime in 1961.  Note that Andrews has no connection with the original stage version of The Sound Of Music.  She was eventually cast as Maria for the film version, but that was made in 1964 and released in 1965.  According to Wikipedia, a man by the name of Ernest Lehman was hired to write the screenplay in December of 1962.

It looks as though the "Christmasifying" (I'm taking that word from the Mental Floss article) of "My Favorite Things" came in 1964 due to, ironically enough, the film version of The Sound Of Music.  The music publishing division of the The Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization (Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the music and lyrics for the stage musical, their last together before Hammerstein died of stomach cancer in August 1960) knew the film adaptation was going to be released in March 1965.  It was being marketed as a tentpole movie (it would go on to win five Oscars, including Best Picture), but that publishing division wanted a song from that movie to become a hit before the movie came out, otherwise they were afraid the movie wouldn't make any money.

Someone from the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization went to a music producer named Mickey Kapp to see if there was a way to get a song from The Sound Of Music into any album Kapp was producing.  He told the representative that he was currently producing a Christmas album for a singer named Jack Jones; Jones, who died in October 2024, sang the theme song to The Love Boat, by the way.  This rep thought that "My Favorite Things" would be a good song for Jones to sing and for Kapp to add to the album, which is called The Jack Jones Christmas Album.

But why "My Favorite Things" for a Christmas album?  Well, that's where you listen to the song and note all the references to winter and Christmas, or at least references that lend themselves to the season and the holiday if you imagine big enough: "Warm woolen mittens"; "Brown paper packages tied up with strings"; "Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes"; etc.  Who knows if Rodgers & Hammerstein picked up on the Christmas allusions when they wrote the song.  But Kapp, sticking to the original context of "My Favorite Things," said it wasn't a good idea to put it on a Christmas album because it wasn't a Christmas song.  To which this promoter said, "Just add sleigh bells."

Well, Kapp did add sleigh bells, and Jones sang the song, and "My Favorite Things" was put into The Jack Jones Christmas Album, and ... it looks like it didn't become a hit, nor could people directly credit that song for people buying tickets to The Sound Of Music, the movie.  But people in the music industry apparently saw "My Favorite Things" as a Christmas song then, and thought it was good, because from then on other artists did their own version of "My Favorite Things" for their Christmas albums, and it then became the standard holiday song it is now.

But I'm not going for Jack Jones's or Julie Andrews's or even the original version of "My Favorite Things."  I love, and I mean love, John Coltrane's cover of it.  It swings so effortlessly, and my Buddha, his playing after the verses lifts me up to the sky.  I shouldn't leave out McCoy Tyner; his revolutionary piano playing on the song is a heaven-sent complement to Trane's virtuosity.  Only in the past year or so have I realized I now have a song that makes me feel happy every time I hear it.

And here's the ironic part of that: The album "My Favorite Things" is on (and the album is named after the song) was released in March 1961 -- a couple years after the stage musical premiered and almost four years before Mickey Kapp and Jack Jones put it on a Christmas album.  It wasn't a Christmas song when Coltrane recorded it, and yet you hear it come Christmastime.  I can't call this "retconning," short for retroactive continuity, but maybe this phenomenon could be called, uh, retroactive meaning-making ... or something?

OK, maybe not.  But here's John Coltrane doing "My Favorite Things."  Get happy, and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays:

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Wednesday, October 15:

• Well, we have to go back to Monday, October 13, when I finally made it out to *****e's party.  Partly it's because I have been told to cut down on the OT.  Partly it was because *****e has been so damn persistent.  But mostly it's because **y was going to work the party.  I don't want to spill all the details here, but let's just say that I got what I wanted in way less than an hour.  And even though I really can't spend the money I spent (for cover and a "bed fee" as well as the service rendered), I have to say it was well spent: $235.
• We go back to Saturday, October 11, where I got my car washed.  When was the last time I got the car washed?  Anyway, I got it washed on my way to watching my alma mater defeat Michigan.  I was afraid that there would be a huge line, but there was no car at all when I pulled in.  Maybe the last hour on a weekend fall day is a slow one for car washes.  I was impressed by the customer service by these guys this day.  I was bringing a box of free stuff for the game-watching event, and one asked if I wanted to put the box back in after they finished vacuuming the interior.  No thanks, I brought it in with me as the car was going through the exterior wash, but I appreciate it.  Then, after they were all done, the guy opened the back door for me to put the box in.  I paid cash for the whole thing, so including tip, this was: $31.46.
• While watching the game I had a Pepsi, an Angry Orchard, chicken wings and a giant pretzel.  I guess I didn't get any of these things during their happy hour, but I was surprised by how much I spent.  With tip: $56.
• And to heck with it ... even though I know for a fact that my sister gave me this money the day before (Friday, October 10), I'm including it on October 11 because I was using cash all day.  I am not sure why she gave me money.  Was it for the late dinner we had after our successful run out of the escape room?  An Infusion of: $10.
• ETA on Friday, October 17 at 11:09 a.m. that I totally forgot that I went to see Bride of Frankenstein Monday, September 29.  It was a surprise sold-out show, but thankfully, I got in through the waitlist.  I can see why it was a classic, but the part that stands out to me?  Only 75 minutes long.  I hate that I don't remember jotting down how much I spent.  I know I used cash for the ticket, popcorn, pop and tips to the concessions and the organist.  I think it was a total of: $31.
• Let's go back to Saturday, September 27, where I just needed to be on my own and decided to go to the Black Hart because I haven't seen an MNUFC Match there in quite some time.  (The bar, by the way, is running a game-watching contest where they give up prizes halfway and at the end of the regular season.  The more times you watch a Game there, the more chances you can win.)  They run a special on Fulton Lonely Blonde, so I got a glass of that on this night.  With tip: $7.
• To Tuesday the 23rd ... needed to use my Hooters coupon for the month of September, so I went down there ... only to be told that they have no offer like that on their menu.  So why in the hell do I have a coupon for it?  I don't think the Hooters corporation really knows what's going on in all of their departments.  Anyway, I sat and ate anyway, so plus tip I spent: $28.
• On Tuesday the 16th I went to ******e's new place in the afternoon, where she wanked me: $120.
• And I also forgot I saw another classic movie at my local arthouse theater Monday the 15th: The Great Dictator.  It was billed according to the theater as "possibly the most important comedy of all time."  That billing isn't wrong; it stands up and sticks to our current mess, almost in haunting echoes.  I think I charged money for the popcorn and pop, so this EWR is for the ticket and the tips to concessions and the organist.  I spent in cash I think: $17.
• Back to Tuesday, September 9 -- had to visit my downtown Game-watching bar to let management know we're coming in that Saturday.  Ate and drank there.  With tip: $16.
• Friday the 5th: Went to a house party where I got double-teamed by *****y and *****a.  I have been serviced by both before -- I have even gone all the way with *****a once -- but not together.  And to be honest, I think I was hustled into spending way more money than I wanted to.  First of all, *****y just asked *****a to be part of our bed dance.  Then, even though I got all naked, they didn't do anything with my pee-pee.  We were spending too much time at the bed and I got the feeling they were just going to stop.  Finally, I think I agreed to the price I think I needed to meet for them to both wank me: $150 apiece.  I didn't even have that much cash on me; I needed to Venmo *****a the rest of the $150 I owed her.  But they finally put hands to penis, and I'm glad that two women I have seen for years did a tandem HJ on me.  But I was reminded yet again that sometimes, *****y wants to extract more money from me when I don't want to.  Other strippers don't do that, and even though they're not as gorgeous as *****y is, I don't have to deal with that bullshit.  Total: $250.
• The Powerball jackpot cleared a billion (at least), and I needed to get Powerball tickets for the family: $10.
• And Father paid me back for the Powerball tickets I got for him in previous days; I know he did not pay me back on September 5, I'm just putting it here.  An Infusion of: $10.
• Finally, back on Tuesday, September 2, I saw the reboot of The Naked Gun.  I remember laughing my ass off to the original (movie at least; I know the old The Naked Gun was based on a short-lived TV show), and I think my younger self would love the new one, even though it's still difficult to picture Oskar Schindler as a slapstick comedian.  It was a neat diversion, though, filled with zingers and one-liners that comedies just don't do these days.  The local theater has half-off tickets on Tuesdays and Wednesdays (at least for now), and I took advantage of that: $4.32.

Good through October 15.

A Lot/Too Much Coffee

So yesterday/Monday was National Coffee Day, and I decided that out of the two gas stations that offered me free coffee, I would go to the closer one because there free coffee was any size.  I got a large because ... well, I guess I didn't look for an extra large, maybe because it wouldn't fit in the cup holders in my car, but a large was plenty.  As it was brewing at the automatic coffee brewer, I stepped back and looked at the huge large cup and went, "Whoa, even for a large, that cup is, uh, large."  Seriously, even for American sizes, I think the cup I got should be an extra large.

And, of course, I didn't finish it.  A lot of it has to do with work; The Third Department was its usual bear.  But I still think I drank more coffee than I usually do; it's just that I had a very large pool of coffee to get through, and I didn't.  See, I have my own thermal bottle in which I always pour my coffee into to keep it warm.  Even after I did that, the cup from the gas station was two-thirds full.  I managed to drink everything that was in that cup, but barely anything I poured into my thermal bottle.

And that is where it stayed until just now.  Even though I'm not hungry, even though I had popcorn and Coke while watching Bride Of Frankenstein (nice movie; like the allegory of the Monster being misunderstood and even the meek in biblical terms ... oh, and the cinematography was excellent) about five hours beforehand, and even though I need to go to sleep, I drank some of the coffee still in my bottle to wash down a cookie I got working the Vikings Game that is 370 calories.  Damn, I need to watch my blood sugar.  Oh, well, I think I can contemplate how to lower that, and cut down on my weight, tonight because I will be tossing and turning in bed all night.

And I still haven't drank all of the coffee from my thermal bottle.  Most of it's still in there.  In fact, I think I have enough to tide me over through work today/Tuesday.  It'll be lukewarm, but heck, if it's going to be as busy in The Third Department today as it was yesterday, it'll be more than enough.

My Fucking Father Has No Other Hobbies

When I come home, usually something that I put somewhere in my bedroom has been moved, meaning My Fucking Father has been in there.  That's annoying enough, but it didn't happen every goddamn day like it's happening now.  In the past when that happened I figured he was just bored.  Now, I think it's a measure of control over me.

Last/Monday night, after seeing The Great Dictator (excellent; the blurb of the theater I saw it in called it, "The most important comedy film ever," and even though that sounds ironic, I think it's true) I came home.  My Fucking Father didn't touch anything except for the three pairs of slippers I use.  I strewed them around the floor; he fuckin' stacked them up, all neat and shit.  Besides hating this invasion of privacy, I want y'all to know that I did not pay for these slippers.  My Fucking Parents bought them and gave them to me.  Not all at once, but several years apart.  I don't know really know why.  One pair I use, and then out of the blue they just give me another pair.  The newest pair, which they got me a couple months ago, they said they wanted me to use because, "They were quiet."  Like I stomp around in the old slippers to the point where they get woken up.  They have bought so many slippers for me thinking they know what's best for me; wouldn't they have found the perfect, most quietest slippers for me by now?

The more I think of this, the more I fucking hate him.  Get a fucking hobby, you creepy goddamn dolt.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Labor Day, also known as Monday, September 1:

• We start at Sunday, August 31, which was my last of four days at The Minnesota State Fair.  I noticed that did not get too many of the new foods because, like I said in a previous blog post, there wasn't a consensus new food (well, besides the soft serve beer, which may not be a food) that I would wait for hours to try.  (And by the way, the lines to the soft serve beer were non-existent.  It was hyped all over the place, as I did in that same previous blog post, but did it make enough money that justified a return on investment?)  There was that ube lumpia that I waited in line for, but it was getting late and the line didn't seem to move, so I bailed.  What I did get were the Maple Cream Nitro Cold Press Coffee from the Farmers Union; Granny's Green Apple Sucker Ice Cream; the new Aegean Dream beer from Dino's; a Cider Freeze, that iced apple juice in a plastic tube considered to be the cheapest Fair food you can find for many, many years; a corn dog (not a pronto pup, a corn dog, and it's the first time I've ever had a corn dog, I think); and an Aloha Pineapple Haze that was being sold only from the eating establishments inside the Warner Coliseum.  All told, I spent: $40.50.
• And Father paid me for getting Powerball tickets for him.  It's an Infusion of: $10.
• Saturday the 30th was the start of my alma mater's football season, and I'm glad they kicked ass.  This place upcharges for credit cards, and since the State Fair was replete with vendors that also did that, plus the Powerball being where it is right now, and I have used cash like I haven't since before the pandemic.  And this is a good thing because I should want to avoid giving away money if I don't have to, right?  With tip I paid: $32.
• Friday the 29th was my third trip to the Fair.  Had the yuzu meringue Croffle Cloud; the Bama! Lemon Sweet Tea mocktail; the Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float from Tasti-Whip; the newest apple creation from the University of Minnesota, the First Kiss; a Bee-Nana Pie, one of the stalwarts of last year's rookie class of new foods; and the second time I had that Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer from West End Brews.  Total: $54.
• Tuesday, August 26 -- Father, paying me back for Powerball tickets, an Infusion of: $10.
• And I went to my game-watching bar to make sure everything was set for Saturday.  With tip I shelled out: $15.
• Monday the 25th: Father paid me back for Powerball, but I'm sure he didn't exactly pay me back on this date; I just put it here because I used cash on this day and I have a rule that if you are using one form of currency to pay for something, you need to use it again so it won't be lonely.  Anyway, this is an Infusion of: $50.
• To Sunday, August 24 ... I spent the evening going to Palmer's Bar, presumably for the last time, so I could see Cornbread Harris play as part of his longstanding Sunday night residency.  It'll end after three more Sundays because one of the owners stole from the century-old bar to pay for his drug addiction, and the other owners could not make up for that deficit, so they sold them the bar and, I assume, the land beneath it.  Fucking shame.  I tried to see Cornbread Harris play, but instead of the riser at the back of the bar, he just played on the floor at the front.  That meant there was a sea of people just standing in front of me, basically blocking my view of Mr. Harris for the whole two hours.  I was able to fight toward the band as other groups, who were talking to each other and not really there to see Cornbread, backed off.  But I got the feeling that in such a busy environment, everyone had the right to get close to the music as possible, so I cycled myself away, grabbed a second beer, sat outside and just drank through the end of the first set, intermission, and the beginning of the second set.  Not quite what I expected when my friend said we should go (she didn't join me), but I'm glad to have heard Mr. Harris and to be in that Minneapolis institution one final time.  Minneapolis Cider plus tip, tips for the band, and a mild polish sausage from a cart vendor who was just outside Palmer's: $17.
• Oh, before I took the light rail to Palmer's I dove into this, er, really clean downtown bodega called the Players Club.  I got Powerball tickets there totalling: $12.
• On Saturday the 23rd I went to The Great Minnesota Get-Together for the second time, primarily to see the Grandstand concert which was Atmosphere & Friends.  I wish I got the Somali Street Fries, but I had no idea at the time that the reviews would be nearly unanimous in their praise for it.  But I did go out on a limb and purchased the Sweet Squeakers (as well as a trusty small blueberry basil lemonade) from the Blue Barn; a frozen Blu from West End Brews (which I think is just LuLu's); and a Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float.  Total damage: $44.75
• Thursday, August 21 ... went to the opening day (actually evening) of the State Fair since I got out of work at a decent hour to put in a properly long visit.  I usually go during the first day to knock off the mainstays I want to eat; my plan, even though I didn't really follow it this year, was to devote other visits to the new foods.  So, I got a pina colada from Manny's Tortas; the cheese curds from Mouth Trap; a honey lemonade (with tip) from the honey exhibit in the Agriculture-Horticulture Building; fried pickles; that soft-serve beer for the first time; a Minnecookiedough Pie; and a lychee colada from Union Hmong Kitchen at which I believe I got fucked out of six cents due to a combination of the owner not differentiating between cash and charge prices, the owner not getting dimes or nickels or pennies for change, and a really, really shitty cashier.  They had a new food for the Fair, but I stayed the hell away from them because I was upset.  Anyway, I notice that I usually get my fill of Fair food and drink once I cross the $50 threshold.  On this first day, I blew way, way past that: $72.75.
• To Wednesday the 20th, where I had the day off and spent the afternoon going to get my car washed.  I charged the wash, so I used cash for the tip: $5.
• I then got a shave from the learning school close by.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, but I doubt he paid me back on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• On Tuesday, August 19 I fucked ***i*.  And thank Buddha inflation hasn't hit with her: $120.
• Monday the 18th ... I needed money to buy lottery tickets, so I stopped by the bank to get money.  I then walked over to Caribou to get a small mocha with oak milk, and I thought I might as well pay with cash instead of through the app.  I was shocked at how pricey it was.  Well, mochas these days are expensive, but I thought that oat milk for me was going to be free.  Turns out oat milk is free only if purchasing through the application; otherwise, it's a buck extra.  Well, shit, good to know.  But at least I got the trivia question right.  With tip: $7.03.
• Went to Hooters after work to use a calendar coupon.  Hooters also upcharges if you use your credit card, so I now primarily pay with moolah when at Hooters.  With tip: $32.
• Saturday, August 16 -- after watching the MNUFC Match I moseyed on over to the Midway Saloon.  I had a ton of beer that day, but I was thirsty, so I just bought a Coke.  With tip: $5.50.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• To Tuesday the 12th, where I went to my alumni game-watching bar to make sure 1) the bar was still standing and 2) that they would still welcome us.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• On Monday, August 11 I wanted to go to the Heights Theater to see Waiting For Guffman, which I have heard many great things about.  It's OK; it has those quotable lines ("I hate you, and your ass face!"), but otherwise it has that cringe mockumentary approach that I find somewhat condescending.  Paid money for the ticket, a small pop and popcorn, and tips for concessions and the organ player: $30.
• Back to Saturday, July 26 ... Palmfest was at Palmer's Bar.  It's a weekend-long festival of local bands just, you know, playing, which was Palmer's total reason to exist, and that reason was mover than enough.  Cover, an orange Jameson slushie, a Fulton 300, and tips for those two drinks came out to: $29.
• Wednesday the 23rd: Went to A Bar Of Their Own to watch a Women's EURO Semifinal.  It was raining cats and dogs out there, damn.  With tip I paid: $28.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, and then some.  I think he paid me on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Monday the 21st was the last week where **y said she could accommodate my, uh, carnal needs because her daughter was in class.  I hadn't been serviced by her in a long, long time.  Partly it was because of the distance, partly because she had people staying with her for an extended period.  But it was worth the wait because, like I said when I (kind of) blog posted about her, she bit my pee-pee.  Goddamn, that was glorious!  Total: $150.
• **y and I talked for a little bit, to catch up on old times.  She only went topless, but she put her bra and shirt on while I was laying on her daughter's bad, completely naked with my legs open.  But I had to leave, unfortunately.  Not only did she need to pick up her daughter, I had to go meet a friend who was only going to be in town until the next afternoon.  So I had to drive all the way from the south metro to the north to pick her up and decide to have a quick beer at this place I have never been to that's kind of close to where we both live.  She used her credit card for the both of us, so I paid her back for the drink and soup I got: $23.
• Finally, back on Saturday, July 19, after an alumni function, I made my (now annual) tradition of going to Tongue In Cheek to eat.  I was going to go for the steak, but because the guy sitting next to me did, I opted, for the second year in a row, for the ramen.  I think I was there a long time because I remember intently scrolling through my phone.  Anyway, with tip I paid a very, very expensive: $76.

And once again I say to myself I have to do these more often.  Good through September 1.

She's Back (Finally)!!!

Well, not only did the minivan get me to the movie theater and back just fine (Ballerina was ... OK -- it's as messy and interminably violent as any Len Wiseman movie), I got fantastic news when I turned on my phone after the film: ****e's finally back!  I was so lonely that I did my monthly text to her yesterday/Sunday afternoon.  Well, after many months, she texted back!  She was overseas staying with her family, and she just got back Saturday.  What timing!

I (re-)broke the ice by asking how is her family, but we both know that eventually I want to see and fuck her again, so hopefully that hasn't changed.  Damn, it's been some time since I sunk my junk in someone!

Will The Van Make It?

I am resolute in using only the minivan today because I've put my car through a lot last week and will this week.  But I have some things I want to do today, and frankly, I am letting my paranoia about the minivan breaking down scare me again.

The good thing my afternoon to-do-list is, well, halfway over.  I went to Brooklyn Park to eat at the Cousins Maine Lobster food truck (not bad), and I am writing this at the library before I go home.  Tonight I've decided I am going to use my $5 Atom ticket to watch Ballerina tonight, but that's another ten miles/15 minutes away from me.  That's about the same distance as going out to Brooklyn Park just now, but can the van survive a second such trip?  I hope so.  I am assuming so.  But honestly, who knows?

Don't Have Time ... Now I Have Time ... No, Now I Don't

Man, have I got a splitting headache.  Think I got it after sleeping in my car for almost half an hour after MNUFC got obliterated yesterday/Sunday afternoon.  Anyway ...

... I was going to see The Accountant 2 Wednesday afternoon, the second of two days I had off this week.  But I took back my paid time off for both days -- I'll say why later -- and so I obviously can't go at that time.  I had time to go to the theater I was going to see the movie after the MNUFC Loss, so I wanted to make sure it was OK for me to switch.  Now, this is not my hometown theater.  I have asked to see the movie I bought a ticket online for at a screening different than the one I paid for, and they were totally OK with it.  But the guy I spoke to said I had to talk with Atom, the application through which I bought the ticket.  Weird.

I didn't have to "talk" to Atom.  Instead, the means to cancel the ticket was right there, and I did.  I have $5 in credit to see any other movie I want to see at any time I want now.  I was planning to see The Accountant 2 this/Monday evening, well after work, though.  I was kind of bummed out about that because I told my parents I would be eating out.  But what do I do now that I can't go to a movie I planned on going to?

And then I remembered that we are seeing my niece (and her two parents) Saturday.  I have been fretting for some time when I could get my hair cut and my face shaved.  Doing that this week would be next to impossible considering I am routinely working so late, every barbershop is probably closed by the time I get done with work.  But I think I need to look presentable to my niece, so I have to find time to get my hair cut and my face shaved.  And you know, cancelling the movie means I can do it tonight!

One problem: Severe weather is forecast for the evening.  And when I say severe, I mean severe.  They have that 1-to-5 scale of predicting how bad the severe weather could be.  I usually see the Twin Cities at a 1, maybe a 2 on occasion.  Tonight/Monday night, we're at a 4.  I thought 4's were only reserved for states south of here.  This is the first time I have seen the Twin Cities at risk for moderate severe weather, and that scares the hell out of me.  If it's going to be that bad out there, I don't know if I should get groomed.  Maybe I should head for home, or maybe even camp out at work until the storm blows over.  Either way, I feel like I'm taking a massive risk going out after work just to get to get my hair cut and my face shaved so my niece doesn't think I'm a slob.  What bad timing.