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!

Random passive-aggressive lash-out: Sweat to fucking God, if that immature incel reacts to anything I say that he even remotely thinks questions his so-called superiority on the rules of football, I will say something.  Probably won't scream or completely insult him.  But I am too old for this shit, and I do not know if I can keep being stepped on by some twenty-something prick who believes he's got a ticket to move up in the industry he's wanted to work in since seeing SportsCenter for the first time without coming back on him.  Just saying that I cannot be complicit in my debasement for much longer.  Jesus, what a fucking goddamn asshole he was/is. ...

This Stripper Really Loves Me

So I made it to a stripper party last/Friday night.  I wish I could say I was more relaxed, but the stripper I was with really took things in stride.  She's a really cool chick.  I hope to get with her again soon.

I was planning on going home because I was, well, spent.  But *****y, even though she wasn't technically hosting (*****a was because it was her birthday), she wouldn't let me leave until I stayed there for a while longer.  *****a had made me a strong frozen margarita a few hours before, and *****y didn't want me to just drive off.  Now, this is not the first time *****y has asked me not to leave so soon after a house party.  Also, and make of this what you wish, I felt fine driving home.  (She has continually said to other strippers working parties I've been to that I don't drink much.  I don't know when I should tell her that, uh, isn't quite the case ... which makes me think I should cut down on the drinking, but that should is a blog post for another time.)  But like the first time she asked, I was struck by this stripper, the ethos of whom I normally associate with being a free spirit, and with acting with wild abandon, being so concerned about me, let alone anyone.

*****y gave me a bottle of water and told me to stay, so I just drank water and doomscrolled.  After an hour of this (again, I was all tapped out, so I didn't have any fun with the other strippers there), I thought I was good to go.  She let me go, but she insisted on me texting her once I got home.  Now, don't tell her, I went to Chick-Fil-A first because I had an urge for a peach milkshake.  But then I got home, and I got home in one piece.  And when my cellphone picked up my house wi-fi, there waiting was a message from *****y asking me if I got home safely.

Yes, our relationship is built on sex work.  I cannot deny that when we always "hang out," money changes hands.  But that shows me that *****y loves me.  I am absolutely convinced of that.  You do not go out of your way to prevent someone from getting into an accident, and then proactively text someone whether he got home safe, if you don't love him.  Now, I know she's not in love with me; it's not like that, and I don't think it can be like that.  But our relationship, and I can't think of a better term to call it, has become different over the many, many years I have known and, well, gotten serviced by her.  This is not meaningless.  The concern for my well-being she showed me yesterday is something by which I am deeply moved.  And I guess I am still processing all that.

Ironically, I could see My Mother doing this same thing to me (not at a house party like this, of course), to which I would probably scream at her, "You're suffocating me!!!!!!!!!!"  But I don't feel that way from *****y.  Probably because *****y isn't My Mother who has confused me whenever she hasn't psychologically tortured me all my life.  Plus, I've seen *****y naked ... and I quite love seeing her naked!

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Sunday, May 31:

• Fucked ****e.  Maybe I shouldn't have done it after getting wanked by ***e*, but I already promised ****e.  I wish I had given myself more time to recuperate.  Total: $120.
• Saturday the 30th ... said HJ from ***e*.  "Responded" perfectly fine.  Total: $120.
• In the afternoon I went to the barber school to get a shave.  Seeing some from high school whom I haven't seen since high school, and I reckon I should clean myself up a bit, even if I'll have a week's worth of stubble on my face.  With tip: $12.
• I then went to Nelson's Cheese for a chicken wrap, a medium corn bacon chowder, and a bottle of RC Cola.  I said that the corn bacon chowder was a diuretic for the ice cream I had the night before, but it was a very tasty diuretic.  It was expensive, so the I gave back all the change from the $20 I handed over, so I spent: $20.
• On Thursday the 28th I went to the Moonwater Gin Bar, specifically for the sushi pop-up.  I'm still on a high from the yellowtail tuna I had.  While I tipped through the receipt, for some reason the restaurant-within-the-restaurant also had fishbowls out asking for tips for both the itamae and the wait staff.  I kind of think it's overkill, but hey, I was totally happy with everybody and everything there, so I tossed in three bucks in both bowls, so the total comes out to: $6.
• Back to Sunday, May 24 ... I first went to Brit's Pub for EPL "Decision Day."  To celebrate the big spectacle (and big crowd), I got two dishes to go along with my Bloody Mary.  With tip: $53.
• I then went to Bebe Zito to grab ice cream.  These guys don't have pennies (I think), so they do the "nearest nickel" thing, and mind rounded up.  With tip -- and golly, that much for ice cream?!: $8.60.
• See, I went to Bebe Zito for ice cream because I wanted to try an affogato by going next door to Caffetto and ordering a double shot of espresso.  Pour the espresso over the ice cream and voila, affogato!  (This wasn't my idea; one day when I went to Caffetto, the barista told me outside food is allowed and in fact told me this hack.)  With tip: $5.
• On Saturday the 23rd I was also at Brit's Pub, this time for the English Championship play-up Game, won by Hull (on a Goal in Second Half Stoppage Time) over Middlesbrough.  I was going to get a second dish if it were going to Extra Time, so that late tally saved me money.  Still, with what I got (a bacon butty [?] and a Bloody Mary), I spent, with tip: $38 (ETA on June 30 at 1:42 a.m. that the actual amount I spent was $32.  Don't know why I said $38.)
• Later that afternoon, I went to the Loons Match.  Then, after the Tie, I went to Bang Brewing.  It's a nice, humble, easygoing place.  They have great pizza (from a different company).  And they are trying to be sustainable with everything they do, including using the grains for their beer.  I charged the pizza, but I paid cash for the Kernza.  With tip: $9.
• And then I saw that they offer products from this Patagonia Provisions line, items from the Patagonia outdoor wear company that also promote sustainability.  I'll bite; I bought crackers and, even though I swore I'd never eat them and think they're gross on pizza, a tin of anchovies.  Total for both: $11.
• Thursday, May 21 -- it was the very first day of the Kickoff To Summer At The Fair, The Minnesota State Fair.  I saw it as an opportunity to get the fair food I always wanted to get but never got around to getting, get the fair food I usually get so I could try other fair food when the actual State Fair rolls around, and eat all of that without the crazy crowds.  Well, the first thing I did was line up at Amish Annie Donut.  What am I doing?  I mean, the chocolate chip donut was great, but why am I replicating the bad part of the State Fair, and first thing?  The fairgrounds itself, a lot of it cordoned off (BTW, there was no Midway because the rides aren't there), was sparse, actually, so there was room to roam without getting bodied up creepily.  (There are limits to crowds for all four days of this pre-Fair Fair; Saturday and Sunday sold out.)  I went back and forth for both food and drinks and using cash and a credit card.  I used cash for the donut (with tip), cheese curds, a small mini donut beer (with tip), and a Minneapple Pie with cinnamon ice cream.  (For my own sake, I want to note here that I used my credit card for a blue raspberry lemonade from Little Prairie Coffee, a pickle pizza from Rick's, and a Big Fat Bacon, something I've always wanted to try.)  Cash total: $44.
• Back to Sunday the 17th, where I spent my afternoon at Art-A-Whirl, eating and drinking while walking around and looking at art.  I was going to have separate bullet points for every food and drink I bought, but I just realized that, like the Minnesota State Fair, there's nothing stopping me from aggregating all the stuff I consume into one bullet point because this was all for one occasion and one "event," albeit a big one.  So, my OCD satisfied and to spare myself a few more seconds of time, I can tell you that the elote, a special beer from Pryes Brewing just for Art-A-Whirl (with tip), and a can of Coke (also with tip) I paid for with cash to the tune of: $19.
• I will separate donations from victuals and libations.  I saw someone carrying a very light-looking safe on her shoulders.  She was getting the word out about a Narcan first aid kit.  She and the person she was with were soliciting donations, so the second time I saw them, I kicked in: $1.
• Friday, May 15: This is when Art-A-Whirl started, and I bought three pieces of art, two of them with cash, and I feel better of I separated them since they are things that, well, I still have.  In front of this art gallery I patronize was this artist selling small pieces of art.  One of them was an egg chair.  It came disassembled in a small plastic case, like a toy you would get when you put in a quarter in a vending machine, you know?  I found it whimsical enough to buy, even though I assembled it real quick and I think this is a chair only for small eggs.  Regardless, it was cheap: $1.
• I took a break from "arting" and went to Stargazer.  This place may be the hippest part of the Twin Cities for food, and I'm glad I hit Stargazer for the first time in a long time.  One drink, a Stargazer Burger (which actually is the size of a slider), pasta and tip came out to: $48.
• A small parking lot was cleared out for a couple art stalls and a couple pop-ups for food and drink.  The pizza and drink I got (both of which I charged) were great.  But I spied a freezer from this company called Chunk Chunk, and I had to get an ice cream sandwich.  Paid: $7.
• I finally bit the bullet, went back to the art gallery I've been going to for decades, and decided I had the money and the courage to buy a piece of art from the owner, another person I've been acquaintances with for decades.  It is a small framed print which I now have at my work desk.  Yeah, I buy art now.  By the way, I don't know if it's just art, but one does not pay sales tax if you can pay with money.  Cost: $35.

Good through May 31.

Making My Schedule Based On Time, Money, Car Vibes, And Semen

Fitting my schedule to accommodate chores, outings, and time with my stripper girlfriends have just overwhelmed me.  I need to budget my time, I need to make sure I have enough money to do everything I want to do, I'm getting kind of freaked out over driving everywhere because of the obscene price of gasoline, and, most important of all, I need to make sure I'm able to cum on demand.

It's the stripper girlfriends where all of this comes to a head (in a manner of speaking).  I wanted to get with ****e for the longest time, and I thought last weekend was it, but she didn't answer my texts in a timely manner.  Finally, last weekend she said that this weekend was good.  After some back-and-forth, I am supposed to see her tomorrow/Sunday.  Then, ***e* blindsided me by telling me she was in town this weekend and wants to cum visit.  Not a great time, but I slotted her in for this/Saturday morning.  I don't know if my penis can perform back-to-back, but consider ***e* is only here this weekend and I already promised ****e, I kind of have to turn back the clock.

On top of all that, I've been going back-and-forth with my ATF regarding a massage.  I thought Monday would work, but when I texted her that I would be home Monday, my goddamn cellphone auto-corrected it to I would be gone Monday.  I caught it last/Friday night and said that I could be available after the weekend, and she apparently agreed.  Phew!  (By the way, if my ATF surprises me by doing something freaky, it won't matter that I shot the day before.  I know that, even in my advanced age, surprising trysts with women for the first time will have me ejaculating left and right!)

Now, beyond having fun (which seems kind of forced right now), I have things I need to do -- stuff like getting a shave, replenishing my alcohol, and seeing my junior prom date at the cemetery.  But before all that, I have stuff around the house I need to do -- stuff like getting my irrigation system up and running and, more importantly, cleaning my outdoor condenser unit.  Summer jumped me this week, and even though I partly am backing off on turning on the air conditioner because I don't want to spend money (being the primary caretaker of a house now turns you into a miser, believe me), I think it's high time I clean the outdoor condenser.  After all, my ATF should be giving me a rubdown on Monday, and I want her to be as comfortable as possible.  Running a fan won't be enough to cool her down, and besides, I want to close the windows in case she touches me to the point where I start screaming.

But I've never done it before.  I've looked through the YouTube videos, and I know I should clean out the debris that's inside it, then use a cleaner to clean the coils from the inside out, then use a hose to rinse it from the inside out.  But, they suggest I cut the power.  And even though I have turned off both the thermostat and the AC, I have no idea how to cut off power from the circuit breaker right next to the condenser unit.  I open up the cover and all I see is a metal loop.  What the hell is that?  Oh, well.  I think I am going to try and clean everything after I just turn off the AC and thermostat.

Oh, wait ... I can't hose the unit down after I clean everything because I haven't connected the water yet.  And I can't do that until I screw the nut into the, um, thingy that was pulled out in the fall in order to winterize our irrigation system.  I tried screwing it by hand, but I can't screw it in tight, so some time this/Saturday afternoon I am going to get a wrench and twist it in.  Then, I can use the water, and then I can begin cleaning the condenser because I can then rinse it.  Will I get this all done in one afternoon?  Who knows?  I might screw up, or hesitate at a step and decide screw it, I'll just turn the whole AC on.  I'm keeping my options open.

How does driving fit into this?  Shaving involves me driving in one direction, shopping for alcohol and visiting my deceased prom date means I need to drive in the other.  I do not want to drive both directions this/Saturday afternoon, especially if I need to do this thing with the condenser and irrigation system.  Since I'm seeing a friend next week, I think I'll get my shave and do everything else next weekend.  I think.  I'm keeping my options open!

Yeah, I'm busy.  And I haven't even mentioned sleep.  I want to budget one day where I can sleep in.  But I have to get up at a certain time to make sure I go out to the bank to get money today/Saturday to pay ***e*, and then I have to wake up at a certain time tomorrow/Sunday to drive over to ****e's place because she asked me to.  I won't like being woken up by an alarm up to a dozen days in a row (through next Saturday, when I'm supposed to meet this long-lost friend for which I'm getting my face shaved).

Gosh, I'm dealing with a lot of moving pieces I need to fit over the next two weeks -- and that's just for now, who knows what else is coming down the pike.  I know it's not serious in the big picture, but right now it feels serious to me.

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:

Is BBQ Supposed To Give You So Much Regret?

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

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

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

Goddamn, My Cock's Getting A Workout

So I went to a stripper party after work on Monday.  I am going to one after work tonight/Friday night.  Another one of my stripper girlfriends is hosting one at her place next Friday.  And I just got a text from ***e* that she is in town and wants to see me for a "quickie" this weekend.  I told her I am free Sunday afternoon.

That means that over the next dozen days, I'll get wanked (and maybe moreso) four times.  I've wondered if I'm still virile enough to put out now that I'm the big 5-0.  My potency has gone down in the last decade-plus, but I can still pud out a bit.  Will that change now that I have to perform four times over the next twelve days?  We shall see!

(Aside: Not only is my dick getting a workout; my wallet is, too.  Need to mind that.)

I Make Bad Choices

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

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

I make bad choices.

Have I Still Got My Libido At 50?

So after our volunteering event we hung out at a nearby restaurant to watch our alma mater play in the tournament.  And swear to God, there were so many hot women there with bazoombas underneath tight shirts (with bras, boo) that you know were so big they would go "Blammo!" as soon as they were unleashed.  And it probably was the one-off 75-80-degree weather that day that encouraged these hotties to look their hottest.  Damn!

I think I touched myself three out of the last four days.  Probably the aftereffects of feeling hot and horny for the first time on Saturday.  But it also might be me trying to hang onto my youth by convincing myself I could still get it up and unleash my splooge by jerking off as much as I could.  That might also be the reason I am going to try and see ****e this weekend ... or, it might be that I really, truly want to fuck her.

Oh, and there was the hot young thing (but old enough to be legal, trust me!) at Culver's, where I decided to spend money yesterday/Wednesday when I planned on not spending money yesterday/Wednesday, thinking that it's probably the best way to spread out all the free food birthday offers that are about to expire.  Glad I changed my mind, because this blonde was well built, had a huge chest, and wore a tight wifebeater that still showed off her gorgeous belly.  I think I got hard.

Yep, I think I still have a libido at age 50!!!

Sign Of Inattention Or Sign Of Old Age?

I'm just so mad at myself for fucking up the Horse's Neck I made for myself.

I should back up.  I didn't plan on drinking alcohol yesterday/Thursday.  I should blog post about it soon.  Anyway, I went to Hooters because I wanted to use the March coupon before the chaos of them closing down on Sunday.  The chaos has already begun, however.  I just wanted a Coke, but they didn't have it.  Guess there's no use to order more stuff if they're closing down in three days, but I thought they would still have Coke.  (I'm going back before they close for good Sunday evening.  Let's hope they still have running water.)

Anyway, I didn't want a Sprite to go with the wings and swirl cake I purchased, and I didn't want to just have water.  So, with a bit of regret, I got an Angry Orchard, which they still have.  And since I got one alcoholic drink to drink, I might as well have another one, and I decided on a Horse's Neck because the ginger ale in the fridge has been in there for a long while.

I rely on the International Bartenders Association formula for a Horse's Neck, which is 40 mL (they're international) of cognac and 120 mL of ginger ale in a Collins glass.  That's a ratio of three parts ginger ale to one part cognac, right?  That's important for the story.

So I pour out 40 mL from the ABK6 into a small measuring cup I use instead of a jigger because The Wirecutter recommends it.  Then I pour the Boylan ginger ale to the maximum line, which on this measuring cup is 60 mL.  I add it to the Collins.  I pour to the max again.  I add it to the Collins.  Then I pour to the max a third time, because it's a 3:1 ratio, right?  I assumed I had enough ginger ale, so I was shocked that I was short by 10 mL.  I thought I should maybe use ginger beer to top it off, but fuck it, it's late in the day and I have work in the morning, I'll just have to deal with drinking a messed-up cocktail.

I don't have a huge Collins glass.  It might not be a Collins glass.  But some drinks require a long, rectangular-looking glass, and that's what I have.  And for all the cocktails I can make that require them to be stirred, they all fit into this glass.  But this one was different.  Even though I was short of the 3:1 ginger ale-to-cognac ratio, the last pour of ginger ale brought the cocktail right to the rim.  That's odd.  I'm pretty sure past Horse's Necks I've made weren't that full.

And then I realized I fucked it up.  I was fixated on the 3-to-1 ratio, but I completely forgot about dealing with the actual fucking numbers.  Forty times three is 120.  I just needed to pour the ginger ale out to the max twice, not three times, to get the formula right.  But no, I poured out the cognac once (and not even up to the top at 60 mL, just two-thirds of the way at 40 mL), so I had to pour the ginger ale thrice.  That's how my mind operated.  It's probably how it operates.  And I fucked it up.

---

Later I played Zynga Poker.  I continually make the mistake of misjudging what kind of a hand I have.  I play speed-up, so I only have, like, ten seconds to fold, call or raise, and I still make a decision without completely understanding what I actually have.  A few times I actually think I have a better hand than I do, but more often than not I think it's an OK hand when it's, like, an ace-high straight or a full house.  I didn't see I had a full house on this one hand and I could have taken the other "players" in my table to the cleaners if I had accurately seen that.

Pairing my poker blindness with blowing the Horse's Neck, I don't know if me not paying attention is symptomatic of my old age.  I have been not paying attention all my life, and yet I can't help but think that if I were younger, I would have gotten the formula right, and I would be much quicker at deducing what type of poker hand I've got.

If it's old age, I don't know what to do.

Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year!

It feels as if the older I get, the more I hew to Chinese/Lunar New Year superstitions, as cockamamie they may be.  As I have gathered on the Internet, these are things one is not supposed to do and the time periods in which you cannot do them:

• For the first three days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not sweep, clean the house, shower or wash your hair
• For the first five days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not clean the dishes or do the laundry
• For the first 15 days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not take your car in for maintenance and/or repairs or use sharp objects
• For the first 30 days of the Chinese/Lunar New Year: Do not go to the doctor or dentist

That all seems silly, I know.  But I cleaned out the garbage, did the dishes, showered and trimmed my nails before midnight.  I also avoided meat and instead ate Culver's two-piece walleye dinner, bones and all.  Then again, I just realized that I used a knife to slice open oranges so I could make myself a tequila sunrise that I am drinking right now.  Welp, I guess I just damned myself to a year of bad luck.  Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year!!!

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.

You Know, I Don't Think My Parents Are Sleeping Together Anymore

By that I mean literally sleeping together, not, um, figuratively (barf)

Like I've said, Mother isn't perfect, but she can walk good now.  I haven't seen her negotiate the stairs all that much, but while she takes it slow, she seems to not have an issue with walking up or down.  The exercises she needs to concentrate on now have to do with adjusting the body while isolating her new knee and putting stresses on her joints (not just her new knee) -- standing up from a chair, high kicks on stairs, stuff like that.

I say this to say that she shouldn't have too much trouble now going up and down the stairs, and down the stairs is where the master bedroom and bathroom are.  That's also where Father ends up after we have dinner.  We all split up: Him to his bedroom, me to my bedroom, and Mother to her bedroom ... which is not the same bedroom as Father's.  Anticipating that she would be incapacitated after knee surgery, they decided that they would turn my former bedroom back into a bedroom where Mother would sleep in as she recuperates.  It's upstairs (we have a split-level) because that's where the kitchen and her sewing machine is.  As long as she was confined to walking on one level, it had to be the one where she can eat and spend her hours at her hobbies.

So that was a few weeks ago.  I assumed it would be temporary, that once she was able to walk up and down stairs without too much pain, she would rightfully move back in with Father in the master bedroom.  No, that hasn't happened yet.  The few times I checked up on her, she is in her bed (it's my bed frame; while this may have been the reason she took my bed, her knee surgery was used by My Fucking Parents as an excuse to toss all the stuff that was important to me, and now I'm getting all pissed the fuck off again, so I'll move on), her pillows arranged how she wants, watching her videos on her streaming box.  She's happy as a clam in her own room.  Moreover, my sister, when she was here, asked if she wanted to move back downstairs once my sister thought Mother could walk down the stairs without too much difficulty.  Mother said no, at least for the time being, because she felt that she would make too much noise and wake Father up if and when she needed to get out of bed in the middle of the night and shuffle to the master bathroom to pee.  Two things about that.  Would that worry change now that she can walk instead of shuffle?  And since she can walk, why wouldn't she move back downstairs and bug Father like usual when she does get up to pee?  It's how they've been living all this time anyway, right?

So it's that second point I want to hone in on.  I'm starting to get the feeling that Mother actually likes her own bedroom.  Why wouldn't she?  She has the whole room to herself so she can do whatever she wants.  And I believe Father snores, and she likes that she doesn't have to hear him snoring.  If she does enjoy sleeping alone, that probably means Father likes sleeping alone as well.  He isn't getting woken up by Mother when she needs to pee, of course.  The only worry Mother has is that Father, who is getting up there in age, won't have someone around him if he falls, Buddha forbid.

I would like Mother to move back down, not gonna lie.  That way I can have the bathroom all to myself.  I don't have to move around the bathmat in case she trips over it.  I can also arrange my shampoo and toothbrush to where I want it.  Finally, I want the upper part of the house to myself in case I don't want to put any clothes on if I need to get up from my bed and shuffle into the bathroom to pee.  However, if this separate bedrooms thing is permanent, and if both parental units are going to be here for a while, this is a New Normal I really, really won't like.

How Long Can My Computer Hold On?

For the past ... um, I want to see the past several days, my computer has done this thing where it boots up just like normal, but then, when I try to put my password in, it won't move.  I hit the keys but the cursor just sits there, blinking a lot slower than normal.  I have to now restart it; upon its restart, I can put my password in to open up my computer.

My laptop is now old.  It runs on Windows 10.  It does not have the processor or the storage space to be upgraded to Windows 11.  Windows 10 is no longer supported as of last month, but I opted into getting updates for 10 for another year, at no charge, which makes me think then that Microsoft should have just said they won't support Windows 10 next year.  Anyway, I don't want to pay for something so expensive if I don't have nor want to.  But since it's getting older, other issues are starting to crop up.  Could something worse than this weird restart thing happen over the next year?  Possibly, and it might affect me being able to use this laptop at all.  Did I make the right decision to keep using this for another year?

Something Fun Shouldn't Be This Fucking Inconvenient

So I am doing this escape room with my brother, sister and niece tonight.  I want to look forward to it because it's, well, a fun thing to do, and I am doing something with my siblings, and I don't remember the last time I've ever done anything fun with them, let alone my niece.

Doing it tonight, however is a pain in the ass.  I work in The Fourth Position today, all by myself.  I need to get the work done because there is nobody else doing it today, and no one doing that job at all tomorrow.  For that reason, there is a chance I will be late.  I communicated my worry with my sibs.  But instead of offering a compromise, my brother just bought the goddamn tickets for tonight on his own.  I will probably have to leave stuff for one of my co-workers to do tomorrow, and that's not a good feeling to saddle someone with work to do when you had the chance to do it yourself.  I certainly wouldn't want one of them drop crap on my lap, but turnabout is fair play, and that is what I'm going to invite if I don't do all the work by myself today.

I have a Friday off coming up.  We certainly could have done the escape room then.  I can't see why we couldn't wait and do it then.  But nope, my brother said we're playing Friday.  So I have to fucking drop every goddamn thing and race to the escape room.  And I guess I shouldn't complain too much because my brother's the one buying the tickets, huh?

Moreover, my plan was to leave work early, go home, grab my sister and then go.  Going from work to home takes me in the opposite direction of the escape room, but that seemed to be the only way for all of us to play this game.  (It also necessitated me leaving work early if need be.)  This is the part that pisses me off.  While watching my alma mater's women's soccer team, I WhatsApped my sister that if I am able to get home in time, we have to immediately leave home to get to the escape room on time.  Then, she countered that she wants to go to the mall by herself.  She needs time to do that.  And, she wants to take my car.  I would then take my parents' very old van and meet her and my brother and my niece at the mall and the escape room in the evening.  Well, shit.

Being blindsided by her decision the day before fucking sucks.  I had to spend five minutes after I got home from the soccer Match taking out all the stuff I need to drive to work (sunglasses, sun visor, tire gauge to check the minivan's tires).  Also, this is the second time this week I've had to settle on the van while she gets to drive the newer car.  I sleep for lunch, and that's very hard to do in the van because the sun streams in through the windows; it gets hot and the radiation burns my skin.  It's no problem in my car because I have window shields that are fitted for my car's windows.  I obviously don't have them for the minivan, so I will probably be tired by the time we start the escape room because I haven't had my midday nap.  But worst of all is that I have to take this minivan in afternoon rush to the Mall of America.  Truthfully, I have no reason to believe it won't make it down there and back.  But it is a very old car, and I haven't driven it that far in some time, let alone driving it during afternoon rush.  There are certain aspects of this drive that will be foreign to me, and I hate needing to "learn" like this when my sister didn't have to shop by herself, and my brother didn't have to make the escape room tonight.  In other words, I think I am going to get into a car crash, or the van's engine is going to overheat, and I will fail to make it to the escape room.  It just feels like everything is getting set up this way.

Hate this.  Hate this all.  And I'm supposed to be having fun tonight, not feeling inconvenienced!

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.

Can't Type

Weird ... a couple times the past week, the laptop can't type everything I have typed.  I type as fast as I usually do, but it's as if the laptop can't keep up, and so it skips over some of the characters I type.  I think it's a matter of what else is running at the time.  If there's a really heavy website that's also up, I think that affects the typing.  But it also could be this lap's old age.

This computer runs on Windows 10, for which updates end next month.  However, Microsoft is offering an extension of ... updates (?) for another year, which I took them up on.  I wonder if that was a mistake and I should just buy a new laptop that has Windows 11 instead.  I guess I won't have any choice if this can't type problem gets to be an even worse problem.

And what the fuck is My Fucking Father doing with the shower curtains???  I have opened the shower curtains all the way.  It's what you're supposed to do to air it out and let it dry after showers.  But for some goddamn reason, for the past week or so I see the curtain tied up, or touched in a way that is obvious that My Fucking Father came into the bathroom.  Why?  I think that's his way of telling me to make sure I shower every day, like that's any of his fucking business.  If that's why he's doing that, well, I just faked taking a shower just now.  I know it's petty, and you could say I might as well shower for real if I'm going to do that, but seriously, fuck him, it ain't any of his goddamn business why I don't shower every goddamn day.  How fucking creepy is that bullshit?

Oh, every day he straightens out the bath towel I use, too.  That asshole doesn't have anything else to do in his doddering old age, does he?

Some Things Shouldn't Be Done On A Phone

I have trouble -- maybe not old man trouble, but Gen X trouble -- typing on a phone.  It's the second most-frequent thing you do on a cell (behind scrolling I reckon), but I am permanently fixing my errors because my fingers are too fat for the small keys, and autocorrect somehow takes those errors and thinks, "Hmmm, based on what you typed, when you say 'got a good time' you mean 'I love MAGAts'" or some shit.

What I am worried about is doing more and more important things on a phone.  I am not comfortable, for example, having anything to do with any bank accounts I have on my cellphone.  I have gotten over loading my credit card information onto it, but having my money that accessible is a bridge too far for me.  I could easily lose my phone, or I could easily have it hacked and emptied of all my money.  Why would anyone pay like that?  Sorry, that's just me.

The annoyance of typing on a small device has been married with my fear of losing my personal information now that I have to onboard myself to a human resources company through my phone.  I need to do that in order to work Saturday, but I was completely caught off-guard that I need to do this, and it looks as though I can only do this through my cell.  I have had to put in my name and address a few times, and now I have to upload a voided check and an image of my passport.  Really?  Through my cellphone?  That doesn't seem to be a smart thing to do, and I have to do all this important stuff while not making a keying error.

Worst of all, I somehow have a deadline.  I need to do all of this today.  And check this out: I have a Zoom meeting I need to "attend" before I can get this all done so I can work.  A Zoom to do HR stuff?  Let me guess -- it'll be some AI bot I have to talk to, right?

God, technology is going to lead humanity to ruin.