Three Things From Yesterday

All I wanted to do is wish Father and Happy Father's Day yesterday.  And sure, it's innocuous, but dammit, he reminded me that they plan on coming home some time.  When?  Who knows.  But he launched into this story where he was told by some guy who called him that there was a hailstorm here, which there was, and do you want us to check the house for any damage?  These shady, fly-by-night shakedown jobs always are on the make, promising to replace the roof quickly and for cheap.  Not to say that the roof on our house doesn't need at least a once-over.  But if it is, I'd rather go to a reputable company and not some half-ass dimwit who are just cold-calling people in the hopes of suckering them out of their money later.  Anyway, they're coming home, and that day is getting closer, and I am not ready for that.

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On a brighter note, all day yesterday/Sunday I hung out in downtown Minneapolis.  MNUFC and Brit's Pub held a joint soccer celebration where, for free, you can watch World Cup Matches.  During the last Game of the quadruple-header, Egypt-New Zealand, I looked up from where I was at the sunken Peavey Plaza.  There were strangers of all countries and background watching the Match from a huge TV screen.  Meanwhile, the setting sun managed to cast its rays on the tall buildings downtown.  And I felt happy and safe.  Downtown Minneapolis being dangerous is absolute bullshit.  What I experienced downtown yesterday?  That's the real downtown, and don't let any MAGAt make you believe otherwise.

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Even though Michael Boxall, who's MNUFC's longtime Centerback, was playing for New Zealand, Egypt fans overwhelmed Peavey Plaza.  I swear there were about four dozen Egyptians and Egypt Fans at the Game-watching party, and that is four dozen more Egyptians and Egypt fans than I believed live here.  Oh, and there are some fine-ass Egyptian chicks, I tell you what. ...

I Want To Fight Over Pennies, But Can't

Yeah, I hear that the country would be saving money if we did away with the penny.  I still don't like the idea that we no longer have a denomination of "1," you know?  I think there has to be a currency that counts off one.  Because if now the smallest amount of coin is five, why do we have the number one itself?  (I may not make any sense, or cents, but it makes sense/cents to me.)  And I will do my goddamnedest not to agree with any fucking decision this installed government makes.

But these guys have ended minting the penny, and so stores are beginning to make decisions on what to do if change requires pennies.  Some stores I've been to are going to round the total of purchases I make down to the nearest nickel, which is nice.  But just now I went to the discount food store near me for some stuff, my change was supposed to be $X.XX.X1, and she gave me all the money I was owed except for one penny.  Don't know if she rounds, or is told to round, up to the nearest nickel or round to the nearest nickel, period.  But I'm still miffed.  And before, I swear I would've pitched a fit demanding my fucking penny.  But now, considering this death of the penny, I don't know if I can fight it.  Ah, well.  This is a discount food store; I think I'm getting stuff there for dirt cheap, so maybe the thinking is I shouldn't be fighting over a single penny.  Hrmph.

Was Going To Go, But ...

Huh-huh.  I had heard about the impending blizzard we're about to have today/Sunday when I blog posted my previous blog post yesterday/Saturday afternoon, but I don't know if I quite believed it.  I don't remember any forecaster saying anything about a snowstorm.  Then again, I don't think I watched the news on Friday because I was coming home for a pair of World Juniors Games, and I don't think I watched the news Christmas night either because I came home from working the Vikings Game and tuned in to watch the Timberwolves Game.  So maybe it's me.

You know, when you buy a ticket online (firsthand, not through scalper sites), Ticketmaster asks you if you want insurance?  You pay an extortionate amount of money on top of all the bullshit fees they tack on to give you the option of refunding the cost you paid for your ticket in case you can't use it.  You're always supposed to say no because what are the odds you are going to miss a concert because, say, you got into a car accident?  Well, this would have been one of those times I should've bought insurance, because there's no goddamn way I'm going to drive all the way out to St. Paul for a World Juniors Game.  I wish I could, and I think if I were 20 or even ten years younger than I am I would do it.  But I'm older and maybe smarter now.  This blizzard is coming right as the Game starts and it's going to still be at its worst around the time it's over, so fuck it, I ain't going.

The younger me would be pissed at myself for eating $25, which is the cost of the ticket I bought.  I'm trying to sell it now and get back $4.50 for it, but it might not sell because there's a chance no one's going to this Game.  Damn vagaries of Minnesota winters.

Ironically, all that stuff I blog posted before about deciding to shop now as opposed to a later time is now moot.  I did buy a few items at the Megamall, but I won't know whether I overreacted because I won't be going to Grand Casino Arena to comparison shop and see if I paid more than I should.  (Aside: There were many items at MOA that I didn't see at Mariucci, and vice versa.)  Also, all that kvetching I did over changing my mind about staying inside and not using the car yesterday/Saturday is also moot ... well, probably.  I will need to go outside and, although I hope I don't have to, I might need to start the car and move it around so I can plow the entire driveway from the snow, dammit.

Addendum To: General (Car-Centered) Anxiety

I checked my coolant overflow tank Tuesday and I think it's below the "MAX" line.  Maybe; the tank is in a place that's surrounded by other parts, so it's hard to take a level look at the line, so I'm eyeballing it from above.  That's why I kind of think that it's been at that level, whatever that level is, for some time.  Well, I know that it was well above "MAX" once, and now it may or may not be below it, but it may have been around "MAX" for some time.  Does that make sense?

I still worry because not only will my sister put my car through its paces all around town as she's shuttling Mother to surgery and rehab for the next few weeks, I/we will be driving it places, too.  We're meeting our brother and niece tonight/Friday night for dinner and some escape room frivolity.  Then on Sunday I decided to go down and visit ****e for some sexytime (and to calm her down; the way she describes it, a donation through her phone turned into an identity theft attempt, and she had to wipe her phone, thus deleting all her contacts).  I could use this break right before Mother goes under the knife.  I just hope the car can withstand the punishment it's been getting, and not just with the coolant.

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.

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.

HOAs Suck

I should ruminate on this more, but I have to go.

Mother needed my help with some homeowners' association stuff.  In particular, she needed to register for an account online for one of my parents' properties.  This property, however, they have owned for a long time, and I know that there was a different HOA, or at least a different website, to which they registered an account online.  This may not have been the first time for this property, either.  Plus, I know that other properties they own have gone through management changes whereby, suddenly, a brand-new company announces they are the new HOA/manager.

This is, frankly, ridiculous.  There is no reason to continue to change websites or management companies or HOAs for the same property.  I don't know what it is, but it absolutely screams scam.  And unfortunately, they have dozens they have to deal with.  It is beyond annoying.

Today Might Be My Busiest Day This Year, And Maybe In Many A Year

And I'm not even working.  Instead, I am going to this volunteer event I've set up, then I had to arrange this ad hoc Game-watching event right after the volunteer shift at a bar I've never been to, and then I have to leave that watch party early because I have to go to the United FC Match, and then after that I am supposed to go by light rail to the NCHC Frozen Faceoff Final at the X.  These events are supposed to be a lot of fun.  But as I look at it, I'll be doing a lot of running around, and I will be desperately hoping to take a nap, even though there is no good time to do that.

About the ice hockey Game: I say "supposed to go" because I just bit the bullet and bought a ticket through Stubhub.  It says I need to wait till I get an e-mail saying the ticket has been "released" to me.  I think that e-mail is sent right after the confirmation of purchase e-mail is, but I haven't gotten that second one yet.  I'm hoping that's because the seller is asleep and doesn't know I bought his/her ticket.  But I remember Stubhub kind of giving me the run-around when I needed to buy a second Rolling Stones ticket because the first one never showed up in my inbox.  This might be that nightmare all over again.  Come to think of it, I've had several instances where for some reason I was not satisfied with the ticket I bought.  That ain't good.

They're Still Lacking

I was worried about upselling ... and they did.  And I fell for it.

So when I went through the garage I passed by this gate.  It had these machines on the side and this contraption on the bottom.  I thought they were studs that raise up that blows the tires of anyone backing up out of the garage, if you know what I mean.  But when I got this illustration from the customer service rep, it turned out it was something else: A machine that checks for the alignment of the car.  And, according to this machine, my car's left driver's-side ... uh, camber was off.  Or something.

The rep said looking at it and fixing it would cost $160.  And I said sure.  Why?  (sigh) I guess they're not wrong.  But damn, this still just feels like a way to nickel-and-dime me.  By the way, they seemed to have fixed it, but after I got my car back the rep said that there was something else wrong and they couldn't quite fix it, so they knocked off sixty bucks, so the extra charge (beyond the spare key fob) was only $100.  Guess it could be worse, but I'm still out $100 more than I originally planned?

Oh, by the way, although I asked, the rep didn't tell me how much oil was in my car when I gave it to them.  Instead, they checked it after they got done with it.  They said it was "full."  Sure, but what was it when I gave you my car?  The rep was nice, but I'm still not completely happy with the dealership.

Democracy Has Died; We Are A Broken Nation

So after I blog posted my previous blog post I got a push notification from my phone that Wisconsin went to That Fucking Guy.  That he won, as soon (remember that Biden took Pennsylvania and thus the presidency four days later, on Saturday) as he did overnight, makes me suspicious, frankly.  Hey, it all depends on the conspiracy theories that are true.  Fifteen million votes fewer for Harris than for Biden?  Did they all not vote for her?

I cannot believe that this fucking asshole, who was convicted of 30+ felonies, who is a rapist, who broke the law to steal the presidency back in 2016, and who is a stupid asshole who can't even get through a speech without going into a demented fugue state, "won" again.  Don't even believe he won fair and square here, either.  There were bomb threats in polling places in Georgia and Pennsylvania; they were traced to, duh-duh-duh, Russia.  That Fucking Guy had meetings with Netanyahu; I will totally believe he made a deal with Trump to not agree to a ceasefire in Gaza just to make Biden look bad.  And from 2016, the Original Sin of foreign election interference and conspiracy, the people who were brainwashed into voting for him then voted for him again.  That's still foreign election interference in my mind.

But the overriding takeaway from this election is that this country simply is not willing to make a woman its president, especially one of color.  It is not a surprise that America remains deeply sexist and racist, but the ramifications of those deep-seated prejudices on such an important event, when the other choice is that piece of shit, is still shocking, and sad.  Harris is immensely qualified, smart, diplomatic, and doesn't dance like a bobblehead for 30 minutes.  But Trump's a white guy, so he has to win.

We can't forgot the media apparatus surrounding Republicans.  There is a behemoth of a cable station, several radio networks, and now goddamn podcasts all supporting that gutless cult of a party.  It's scary to think that Joe Rogan (who has daughters, by the way) may have played kingmaker.  The guy from Fear Factor played kingmaker?

With that being said, commenters who are doing post-mortems unanimously believe Biden would have done worse.  I will not agree.  If America is so sexist and racist and selfish and hypocritical that it would reject an accomplished Senator such as Kamala Harris for a guy in his eighties who gave a blowjob to a microphone, isn't there a possibility that pushing out a White guy, Joe Biden, for Harris was a mistake?  Hey, this move backfired on us.  Maybe Biden should have stayed.  I think he could have won.

I need to end this or else I'll start throwing things.

My Boss Can't Set My Schedule Next Week Because My Parents Might Not Be Able To Pick Airplane Seats

I'll let the cat out of the bag: My parents are going on safari starting on Thursday.  That obviously entails taking them to the airport, which I will do in the morning and for which I have already asked my boss if I could come in late.

Unfortunately there is another thing that my parents, or at least My Mother, wants me to do for them: Pick out seats.  I'm guessing that the same process applies to all airlines -- you check in before your flight online and, assuming you didn't pre-pay for a seat (and I always think that's a ripoff), that is when you select your seat.  I usually don't care all that much.  Besides, in my estimation (and this is usually through Southwest, even though I just saw that the airline is doing away with open seating, which is a stupid idea), when you check in, half of the seats are already taken by people who decided to pay to cut in line and pick their seats.  But my parents care.  Don't know if this is a new way of thinking, but at least their second flight (they technically fly from here to Canada and then to two stops in Africa) is long enough whereby they want to pick their seats to prevent getting crappy ones.  They're old, you see.

Now, I just assumed they've picked seats at online check-in before.  But for some reason -- my guess is Mother is panicking, which scares me because this is no damn reason to get anxious -- they either don't know how to do it or don't trust themselves to be able to do it.  And so they want me to do it.  This particular airline (and maybe it's because it's an international flight) allows you to check in 48 hours in advance.  Assuming I correctly accounted for the time zone difference, my parents can check in as early as a quarter to 10 on Wednesday.  I would be at least a couple hours into my shift at work.  But they still want me to help them open their computer, type out the airline's URL, punch in their confirmation number, and pick the seats for them.  Forget how people younger than boomers should be able to figure this out; this might -- might -- be a ten-minute ordeal.  But I might have to orient my entire day around this, and them.

Oh, and on top of this?  They might not even be able to pick seats.  They obviously booked their safari through a tour company, so it's possible that the tour has parcelled out seats already.  Do I know for sure?  Nope.  Mother is complaining that Father should be in contact with the tour company about whether seats are assigned.  But I have no idea if he has even talked to them, let alone whether the tour company has pre-selected seats for them.  If they have, I assume my folks can take care of the check-in process (and it's possible the tour company will check them in for them), and that means I won't have to stay home to help them.  But if the tour company is leaving tourists to do it themselves, that means I have to do this shit.  And since it's at least a couple hours into my normal workday, it's possible I might have to take the whole goddamn day off.  Just to help my parents pick fucking seats.

I raised this issue with my boss, and maybe I shouldn't have.  My original line of thought was to ask to come in a couple hours late both Wednesday and Thursday.  Then, after not getting a clear signal one way or the other as to the check-in/seat-selecting process for Wednesday, I had to convey that to my boss.  He then said it might be easier if I am scheduled a couple hours later than usual both dates.  That's when I had to remind him that Wednesday's still up in the air.  And I didn't receive word from him before I left for the day yesterday/Thursday.

He fills out next week's schedule by Friday because Friday's my last workday and I need to know where I am working for Monday.  But I don't know what's going on with this bullshit with picking friggin' seats online, so my Wednesday's unclear, and so I take it that my whole week is unclear.  If my boss is frustrated that he can't schedule me yet, I can't blame him.  This is absolutely ridiculous.  I cannot see how something as trivial as picking seats is hanging up my work schedule.  But dammit, it is.

Getting My Money Back Is Now Going To Be A Problem

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

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

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

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

$200 Here, $200 There ...

Finished doing my taxes yesterday, sent them off at the airport post office today.  All told, I owe, both the federal and the state, a total of more than $200.

That's about the same amount of money I spent at the strip club my last day in St. Louis.  It's just under the amount of money I paid for tickets to the two sessions of the Frozen Four -- if you count all three tickets I've "bought," including the one for $150 for which I didn't get.

Man, $200 here, $200 there ... this is like nickel-and-diming, except that it's, you know, $200 at a time.  This continues to be money I cannot spend, dammit.

No, Vegan Dumbass, That's Not What You Just Said

I hate that rude interactions bother me so much.  But I went to Glam Doll Donuts today and corrected the guy at the cash register who was ringing up my order.  I asked for three donuts.  He was talking out loud and pressing the buttons for the donuts he believed I ordered.  He got one wrong; he said "Sweetheart" when I ordered the "Coffee Cake."

"Actually," I said, "it is the Coffee Cake, Ginger Betty and Fall On Me."

"That's what I just said," he mumbled under his breath.

Excuse me, asshole?  That just bothers the fuck out of me.  And then, once I was done, he shoved a cup of coffee in front of me even though I didn't ask for one.  Then I realized the guy behind me asked for the cup of coffee.  Hey, maybe wait till I'm fucking done and out of the way before you shove a cup of coffee in front of me, yeah?

And after I left, I think that motherfucker overcharged me.  Donuts are expensive at Glam Doll, so I didn't really think it was that obscene.  But then I thought about it and I think it's a buck or two over what it should be.  Whether that asshole was trying to rip me off or if he is as incompetent as he is rude, I don't know.

I have to remind myself that this is just him.  The person who bagged the donuts for me was real nice -- said goodbye to me as I was out the door and everything.  I don't know if I'm going back to Glam Doll anytime soon, so I won't have to see that piece of shit again for a while, if ever.  And once I take in my whole relationship to this place (which has taken somewhat of a beating on social media, which I don't quite understand), I have to remember that they have often given me free donuts in the past.  Even if this prick overcharged me in this case, I have gotten way more for free.

This dude had a "I (heart; don't know the character code for a heart_) PLANTS" black t-shirt.  Maybe if he ate some animal flesh he'd be nicer.  Or be able to do basic math.

I Should Have Gone

Thought about going to the Fleet Foxes concert tonight.  But as you see on my time stamp, I am not.  I am home.  And I regret it for a couple reasons.

I thought about going for a while.  I obviously didn't have work today, even though I (and probably everyone else) does go back to work tomorrow.  And that there is a concert on a major holiday -- "Fleet Foxes on the Fourth!" -- is a unique set of circumstances that always intrigues me.  Oh, and while I'm not a huge Fleet Foxes fan, I am familiar with a few of their songs, and I love "Mykonos":

But I balked at the price.  With fees, it was about $75.  I like Fleet Foxes, but I don't know if I like them to the tune of $75.  I had been canvassing third-party sites, but they were selling tickets that were even more expensive, which is odd considering that First Ave. still had tickets to sell at face value.

There were other reasons for me to balk.  I hate feeling this way, but I feel uneasy whenever I go out in the evening while my parents are here.  I go out too much and they'll start asking questions about me that just drain me of my will to live.  If I go out the occasional evening, they don't bitch, and I already stayed out after work yesterday/Monday to watch a special screening of Bullitt (I told them I wanted to exercise straight after work ... and by the way, this is the first movie I have seen Steve McQueen, and you know, this guy is a badass cool motherfucker) and I'll need to go out Saturday night for an MNUFC Match.  Plus I went out this afternoon to go to Hooters and to make an exchange at Target.  If I didn't feel the need to see cleavage and tight shorts this Independence Day, I could feel as though I could go out tonight.

Yeah, that is a weird, if not submissive, set of logic that keeps me at home right now.  Let me give you more.  In the days leading up to tonight, there has been a chance of storms, some severe.  I didn't know if I wanted to walk downtown in the middle of a storm, although I think the place will be dead because there's little open during the holiday, which would have been great for parking.  But after waking up from my three-hour nap at 7:30, I checked the forecast and the chances for rain, let alone storms, has just about evaporated.  I could go and not get wet.

Moreover, I just agreed to give a guy I've never met money to accompany him to the Nickle Creek concert in St. Paul next week.  We are in the same Facebook group, and he and his wife were going to go, but his wife, I think, was called to a work trip, and so he just asked if anyone wanted to buy the ticket.  I said yes even though 1) it turns out he wants about $70 for the ticket; 2) I like Nickle Creek but not as much as I like Fleet Foxes; and 3) there is a United FC Match that evening and my dumb ass didn't even check to see if there would be a conflict before I said I wanted the ticket.  Now, you can argue that I am spending the same amount for Nickel Creek as I am for Fleet Foxes, and I have hectored myself that I spend too much money.  This is all true.  And yet I can't help but think that I should go to both shows.

Ultimately, I would have gone if I could go to First Ave. and buy the ticket there, thereby saving money on all those damn "convenience" fees.  It may have saved me just five bucks for all I know, but that is worth it for me on principle.  I woke up at 7:30, checked the First Ave. website, and they said the show was sold out.  Maybe I should have woken up earlier.  Maybe they weren't really sold out and I could just go and get a ticket, but ... well, it's now a bit past 9, and Fleet Foxes took the stage at 9, and it's too late.

I should have gone.  Man, the self-hate continues.

---

Anyway, this is the Fourth Of July, so here's Soundgarden:

Food And Porn, Man, Food And Porn

I continue to have credit card bills so big they eat up nearly my entire paycheck.  I mean, like every single check I get every two weeks.  It really boils down to food and porn.  And what I did yesterday/Tuesday is illustrative, and typical, of how I fuck myself.

Because I was working The Fourth Department yesterday/Tuesday, I was set on buying a mocha and breakfast before coming in to work as a way to ease into what would be a hectic day.  (By the way, the morning was; I don't remember having to go through so much bullshit in so few hours.  But there was a blessedly light load of new work, and I was able to clock out at just about eight hours, a first on a day I work back there.)  Caribou Coffee had an offer where I can buy a large drink for the price of a medium.  But ever since the company updated its application, I have never been convinced that they were charging me the correct price after I used the discount I was offered.  In this case, I wanted to buy a large mocha, and it felt as though the price I was quoted on the app was for a large, not a medium.  Moreover, there was no text indicating that that was the price of a medium.  I want to say that Taco Bell, for example, assures me that "the discount will be taken out upon checkout," and that would be enough for me.  But I don't see a "- $x" line item anywhere on Caribou's.

That has always cheesed me off.  That has discouraged me from going there as much as I had when there was the earlier version of the app.  But I am value-conscious, and if there's a large-for-the-price-of-a-medium deal Caribou is offering, I'm going to get it.  So I didn't use the app; I drove there and ordered there, old school-style.  And guess what?  It was more expensive that it was on the app!  Fuck if I know why!  Well ... I have a theory.  Caribou is now saying that anyone who participates in its rewards program can now get milk alternatives as a substitute for free.  With the oatmeal I had intended to buy and the tip I had intended to give, I think I paid, like, 27 cents more for my breakfast in-person than I would have through my phone.  I think that the upcharge for substituting non-dairy milk is about 20 cents.  Maybe it's the cashier or the register that fucked up.  But now I have evidence that I was wrong, and that the application actually does take all the discounts I think it should take.  (And by the way, a medium mocha at Caribou now costs about $6.50.  Damn, that's expensive!)

---

So I charged my mocha and oatmeal on my credit card, and so by my OCD rules, I need to use that credit card one other time that day.  (Maybe I should reconsider that if I'm so damn worried about spending so much money.)  I was going to use it to donate to an alternative Commencement party for the New College of Florida, that university that fucking Republican fascist governor DeSantis has appointed other Republican pricks to run (into the ground).  That COVID-denying Stanford doctor asshole, Scott Atlas, is Commencement speaker, and the graduates are saying fuck that, we'll set up a GoFundMe so we'll actually have a good ceremony featuring people based in reality.  But the credit card I had planned to use for that GoFundMe was not the one I used at Caribou.  I will not use both of my credit cards on the same day.  OCD rule.

The credit card I did use at Caribou, however, is one I use for my OnlyFans account, and cha-ching, a-ruuuga-a-ruuuuga, I took that as a sign to buy porn.  And I did: Three photo sets and an introductory monthly subscription for a total of $25.  That amount is tame compared to what I have paid for in the past.  But is, oh, 2 1/2 hours' worth of take-home pay.  At least I got actual boobies and pussy; sometimes I charge my credit card on faith and get only the equivalent of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.  But is jerking off (and to a video of a woman [surreptitiously being videotaped by her husband] bending over while vacuuming her couch cushions with just a crop top on, thus showing her nice tits -- and for free, no less) worth yet adding more to my credit card bill?  While I was masturbating, the answer was yes.  As I type this, the answer is no.  And my answers are situational like that every time I do fall into this trap I set for myself.

Food and porn, man, food and porn.  They're going to put me in the poorhouse, and it'll be all my fault.

OF Craps

You know, sometimes you take a chance on OnlyFans because she's a Playmate and she's delivered for you before, so why not spend $29?  But I looked back on my spreadsheet and paying that much, or more, for the photo or video is a crapshoot.  Sometimes they come through; sometimes it's no nudity at all, and I get really fucking burned.

And then there is the technical shit like this time around.  She said she was doing these photos and video in an airplane bathroom, and I'm a sucker for shit like that.  Well, for $29 I saw her tits in two photos ... and that's it.  Yeah, I saw her boobs, so I'm happy, but for $29?  Not happy.

Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Monday, February 20:

• Actually, let's go back to Friday, February 17, when, after work, I celebrated the retirement party of a co-worker I don't know but who was important to work with because she gave me part of the work I need to work on every day.  Does that make sense?  I am usually reticent in hanging out with people at work.  I think there's something good about keeping your social spheres separate.  But I don't want to be an antisocial dick, either.  And my, uh, social club was having its monthly dinner five minutes away, and this party was relatively close to work, so it made sense to pop in for a quick gingerbread cider to huff down in half an hour.  (Gingerbread cider, by the way, is a tad sweet.)  It was good; I had a nice time with these people, and I didn't overstay my welcome.  That cider plus tip: $10.
• That monthly dinner goes to different places every month.  I will tell you that this time around they/we went to Khan's Mongolian Barbecue, a place I had not been to in at least a decade and a half.  I detailed the, uh, somewhat gross details here.  I did remember that it's customary to tip the people doing up the stir fry.  So since I had two bowls/dishes I tipped a total of: $2.
• Back on Wednesday the 15th, ********a came over.  She was in town from western Minnesota for a few days.  It was supposed to be for a bed dance, but it morphed into a massage with me totally naked -- you know, the way ******a does ... well, did, since I think she's going through a mental breakdown right now.  She said that next month, when she's back in town, she'll rub me down good and proper.  Good -- even though I don't she'll touch my pee-pee.  The price I paid for the massage is the same amount I was going to pay for her dances: $100.
• When she was done I felt the need to eat, even though I probably didn't have to.  The local Chick-Fil-A was offering me a free chicken sandwich, so I took them up on it.  Paid for a bowl of tortilla soup, and I was surprised how big the bowl was (even though it wasn't that big, it's a hell of a lot bigger than the cups of soup you usually see).  Quite filling, too.  So a bowl of chicken tortilla soup and the free grilled chicken sandwich (got that instead of the original sandwich) came out to: $8.99.
• Back to Valentine's Day: Starting my day off at Caribou for a mocha and oatmeal.  I need to eat more oatmeal.  With tip: $11.27.
• When a loser like me goes to a strip club to find love.  I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) to see my ATF again.  Yeah, I dropped 21 dances for her.  Don't think I mind it.  With cover, tips and an Angry Orchard I spent: $231.
• After the strip club I had time to dive into Pancheros, aka brokedown Chipotle.  I shouldn't say brokedown; they're cheaper, and they promote the fact that they mix up the ingredients in your burrito or bowl, which I think is a good thing.  Unfortunately, I got charged for extra guacamole when I didn't order it.  And the cashier said he couldn't take it off because he was new.  I wanted a drink to go, but he could only give me an item up to the price of the extra guac.  Hemmed in, and instead of offering a promise he'll discount me next time (I had no trust that this guy would still be working at this place next time), I got the guacamole I paid for and didn't want.  I like the food here; it's almost as good as Chipotle at a cheaper price point.  But this blown charge, man, means that I can't come back here for a while.  But I tipped anyway because I didn't want to look like the bad guy: $1.
• Assuming I had receipt stretching back till then, we go back to Friday, February 3 ... ***e* was in town, asked if she could get me off, and it just so happens that she is staying with ***u** while she was in Minnesota, so instead of just one person masturbating me, there were two.  Totally happy, I just wanted to be double-teamed when I wanted to be double-teamed.  Had to pay: $240.
• I don't know if this was the day I found a quarter and a penny on the ground, but I had to put this EWR somewhere.  An Infusion of: 26 cents.
• We go all the way back to Saturday, January 21, when I went to a party.  ***u** invited me, but at the time she still owed me money, so I tried getting any dance from her at a discount.  She finally relented, and thank God, because she is one hell of a lover.  I would stop seeing her if she kept saying she didn't owe me money when she did, but, well, she didn't.  With cover, this handjob only cost me: $100.
• Finally, on Friday the 20th ******a came over.  She was going through a mental breakdown, which I detailed here.  Suffice it to say that even though she is physically attractive and I appreciate her massaging me while naked, her paranoid bullshit had to stop.  I haven't seen her since this date, and while my muscles ache, I don't mind it.  Well, at least not right now.  Her going rate for rubdowns is: $120.

Good through February 20.

Expenses Without Receipt

OK, starting from Sunday, January 8, 2023, and hope to Buddha I'm right because it's been almost a month and a huge two-week trip happened inbetween:

• I actually need to go back ... all the way back to Thursday, December 22, 2022, when we were on The Big Island.  My brother really wanted to take a tour of Kona Brewing Co.  I didn't even think to go do a brewery tour, but it's not bad.  I'm not a huge of Kona -- I'm not a huge fan of beer in general -- but their (I think) previous commercial tag line -- "One life, right?" -- is an existential epistle that basically sums up my outlook on life and the outlook all people should take to.  We had to pay for the tour, but at the end of it, we went to its little bar/merchandise shop called The Thirsty Gecko.  Yes, I was compelled to be a tourist and buy a couple things (and charge it on my credit card).  I also "donated" to the tour guide: $5.
• Later that day we all went to the Safeway on The Big Island -- I swear I didn't think there would be a giant grocery store chain on The Big Island -- because we all wanted to buy food, some of which we didn't eat and had to throw away.  My parents paid for everything, but because I shelled out money at Kona, I threw in a donation in one of those tiny plastic jars you see at the checkout line.  I don't remember what the charity organization was.  Left: $1.
• On Monday the 19th, back when we were in Honolulu, we spent most of the day at the Polynesian Cultural Center.  Think Disney World.  It's a very interesting and entertaining place to learn about cultures of the South Pacific.  It is somewhat concerting however, to learn two facts: The vast majority of entertainers and workers there are students at nearby BYU-Hawai'i; and this place is founded and run by The Church of Jesus Christ Latter-Day Saints, aka Mormons.  Anyway, we wound up the long (and mostly rainy) day eating at the giant buffet.  Great buffet; lots of food, some of which is geographically and culturally representative of the PCC.  There was musical entertainment: A duo that waited a long time between songs so someone in the crowd could ask for a dedication for their loved one's birthday or graduation, etc.  Whenever they sang "Happy Birthday" -- and they did it more than twice -- they would go, "Happy Birthday to you/Woo!/Happy Birthday to you/Woo!"  That got annoying.  I went over to their stage; they looked old and thus probably are not students.  But I threw in some money anyway: $1.
• On Saturday the 17th we went to this famous steakhouse in Honolulu called Hy's.  The steaks are smoked in Hawaiian wood; other than that, it's a steakhouse.  They graciously took a photo of us; unfortunately, it was on their 2000's camera, we all posed terribly, and the picture they gave us consequently looked, uh, ghastly.  But there was also a musician playing music to enliven the environment.  Nice guy.  Wanted him to play something jazzy, like "'Round Midnight" or even "Skylark."  He knew "Fly Me To The Moon."  I took it, and once he was done and went on break, I went back over to his line of sight and gave him a double thumb's-up.  Oh, and I also tipped him: $1.
• Friday, December 16: I accompanied my parents to Chinatown.  Whenever they go anywhere, they go to that place's Chinatown.  It's their happy place, their oasis of familiarity in a foreign land.  (Me, I go to secret bars.)  Instead of troubling my sister and brother-in-law, they learned how to get there on the bus -- or, rather, The Bus, the actual official name of public transportation in Honolulu.  Neat name, and I hear it's one of the best systems in the country.  But it is expensive: Three bucks per ride.  Getting to Chinatown and back was thus: $6.
• Finally, very early on Wednesday the 14th I got a ride from **y, who a few days before sucked my dick with a condom on.  After our session I nonchalantly told her I was going to Hawai'i and asked if she could pay her for a ride; she had said she takes gig jobs to supplement her income.  And she said she could.  Buddha bless her, it was sleeting that overnight/early morning, but she got there early and got me to the airport well in time.  So yes, it was worth paying her: $50.
• I hopscotched from MSP to SEA to LAX to HNL.  That was not my decision; I bought a two-legged one-way trip, but my airline (which, by the way, would not give me miles for this ticket because I went Basic Economy -- oh, fuck you) added a third leg, the one from SEA to LAX.  I was running on red and getting quite tirangry, but this apparently local favorite coffeeshop called Alfred Coffee hit the spot.  They say they are known for their iced vanilla latte.  Sure, I could go for that.  I don't know if it was the best iced vanilla latte I've ever had, but it kept me both going and sane.  With tip it cost me: $10.

Assuming I'm right, I'm good through December January 8.

My New Year's Resolution: To Not Be A Pushover

You know, there are four girls that owe me money: ****e, ***e*, ******e, and ***u**.  I have given them gifts and/or money, and in exchange they were going to give me handjobs or blowjobs or rimjobs, and the value of what I have been given them would be defrayed from that sex act.

Well, none of them have.  I at first just assumed they would settle up, but they haven't.  I then made small, meeping entreaties via text -- "Hey, you remember you owe me, right?" -- and they all come up with excuses like, "Oh yeah, well, things are really tight right now ... when things get better with my housing situation and the kids, I'll pay you back, OK?"  And, that's where it ends.

I keep them around because, hey, a man has needs.  But maybe I'm getting older and wiser, or the pleasure of getting jacked off has worn away and so I don't surrender my principles to sex acts as much anymore, but it's really, really pissing me off right now that all my whore girlfriends aren't paying me back.

One of them, ****e, is probably already gone.  I haven't seen her since she, unprompted, asked me to come over.  I was going to fuck her, but her cock-sucking was so good I didn't want to put on a condom.  She moved to Las Vegas but I think she's back in Minnesota.  At any rate, it's been years since I've seen her.  I doubt we'll ever mess around, which means her promise to pay me back for the bag I got for her from Hong Kong will never be requited.

Then there's ... yeah, I know I put these women in an order, but I'll go to ***u** next.  I don't know if I explained what she did the last time I saw her in that disastrous double-team, but I'll explain it here: ***u** needed money for school supplies for her kids and asked me to advance her money.  I don't remember how much, but I gave her some money, but I extracted a promise from her that she'll pay me back sexually.  I thought this visit with her and ****e was that payback.  Instead, she said she'd pay me back in installments, like she'll pay me back half of it this time around and then the rest the next time.  And then, she asks me to PayPal her $60.  I think I gave her $120.  Half of that, her "installment" idea, is $60.  And now she wants $60?!  She hasn't fuckin' paid me back at all!  And yes, like a fucking cuck, I gave her $60.  She hasn't talked to me since, by the way.  My God, I'm a chump.

***e* has been the best at paying me back.  What she usually does is bring in another woman, usually, ******e, to double-team me.  I am all square with her, but I pay the other girl, and I think ***e* makes an arrangement to split what I give her so that she comes away with some money.  I don't mind that; it's not my business.  Anyway, like with ***u**, she hit me up for cash for school supplies for her children.  Problem is, she lives way out in Wisconsin.  (***e* came across the border once for a weekend, but I was too busy to see her.)  She makes occasional forays into Minnesota, but I haven't seen her do it in a while.  Haven't heard from her, either.

Finally, there's ******e.  She has been a tease lately, saying, "Why haven't you seen me?"  Till this past week, I guess, she lived in a hotel very close by me, so whenever I needed to be wanked, I found it so convenient to drive over there.  But I've spent a lot of damn money this holiday season, and I still remember lending her money through Walmart while she lived in Vegas.  She said she'd pay me back.  So this past week, when she texted me that she was moving out of her hotel soon, I asked her if she could finally get right with me.  And she shut me down; something about starting a new job and not having any time.  Wait, you wanted to make time to give me a HJ for money.  She also said she just checked out of her hotel.  She said she was going to check out soon.  The fuck?

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I don't make New Year's Resolutions anymore.  I never seem to keep them, so it's depressing to make them.  But giving away money without these stripper girlfriends paying me back is making me look like a fool.  I don't want to be a pushover anymore, especially since I don't have a whole lot of money in my account and I have all these bills coming in.  So my resolution is to stop being a pushover, specifically asking these bitches to finally pay me back for what they borrowed from me.  And if they don't ... well, I'm not ready to cut them off from my lives, but I think I am ready to withhold my dick from them, and reset my relationship with them.  And if they no longer want to be my friend ... well, paying for sex was fun while it lasted.