Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

There is an urban walking street festival series called Open Streets that has held a few events every year for the past several.  One street in one neighborhood is closed down -- no car traffic, just walkers only, and there are food trucks and music and local stores offering their wares.  I've been to these and they're great -- I get to walk while exploring a neighborhood I might not be familiar with.  But mostly due to conflicts, I haven't been to one in a couple years.

I only knew, or remembered, there is an Open Streets event today because someone skeeted it on Bluesky.  It's going on right now as I blog post this.  It's Hennepin Avenue, a place I've been to, though not lately.  And I want to go ... but.  First of all, I planned this to be a no-money day, and if I'm going to do Open Streets, I will buy something to eat.  Second of all, while I love South Minneapolis, I didn't plan on using my good car and drive down there.  Gas is more than four bucks a gallon!  (Thanks, you installed cheat.)  And finally, while I like it, I don't think I've gone to any Open Streets events in the fall because of football.  And the Vikings are playing right now, and they might be good.

So now the pros to going.  It's supposed to be a no-money day, but I did plan on going out -- tonight to the gym.  Is it that big of a leap to go out and enjoy myself?  Also, it's a hot day -- it's already 80 as I type this, and it'll reach the mid-80's before Open Streets ends.  It would make sense to be outside, right?

Well, I doubt I'm going, I'm afraid.  I have leftovers to eat, plus I should wash dishes and, if I have the energy, do the laundry.  I'll go out to work out -- maybe.  And Open Streets, by the way, ends at 5.  If I wanted to put in a solid day at Hennepin Ave., I probably should leave now.  Eh, I'll just watch football instead.

Sorry to answer my subject line.  I didn't think I would decide to stay when I started this blog post.  So I'm going to embed The Clash, OK?

Goddammit, I Hesitated And Lost!!! (I Think)

Late Tuesday night I was doomscrolling through Bluesky when I came across a skeet that posted a screenshot of another skeet or tweet from someone who either works for an organization that watches oil prices or is just an obsessive oil market watcher.  That person said that he predicted a huge jump in the price of gas within the next 24-48 hours.

Hmmm.  When I saw this I had half a tank.  The next morning (yesterday/Wednesday) I was going to drive a ways so I could see/have sex with ****e.  If I woke up early enough, I thought I could top off.  But that skeet/tweet said this was going to affect the Great Lakes States.  Well, Minnesota borders Lake Superior, but the skeet/tweet did list states east of us -- Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin (although not quite, according to this person ... Wisconsin has lower gas tax), and not Minnesota.  Frankly, I didn't have time, so I was going to check prices when I came back from laying pipe into her, and if I see prices shoot up, I'll go searching.

On the way down the prices were what they were Tuesday: $4.25, which is obscene, but that was the price it had been for a few days.  OK, I still have time, or so I thought.  But when I came back home, I see all these signs for $4.50.  Shit, the early afternoon was when everybody raised their prices.  I go to my go-tos which usually have the lowest prices in the area, but it was too late.

So I should've not taken any chances and just filled it up all the way on my way to seeing ****e.  My only saving grace is that I have just downloaded a new gas station application, and my reward for signing up is getting 25 cents off my next five fuel-ups (even though they expire in about three months).  Sure, that would mean I'm still paying $4.25 a gallon, but it is a discount.  That's all I got.  Seriously, though, these fucking prices are ridiculous.  There is one man to blame directly, but there are about 77 million Americans who should also share the blame for this bullshit.  Fuck you, you stupid motherfuckers.

Eggplant Emoji Or No Eggplant Emoji?

So I'm Facebook friends with this hot woman who is not a model (at least I don't think) but is a swimwear designer.  She takes many photos of herself in her creations.  She's got a great body, but it's not as if she's showing off her ass or anything, which in my opinion is nudity.  So while she's beautiful, it never gets to the point where I have the perverted urge to send her an eggplant emoji.

Yesterday/Tuesday her Reels pop up.  She's in her swimsuits again, only this time she has a younger woman with her.  She never says, but I suspect she's her daughter.  And she's modeling her (maybe) mom's swimsuits too.  She's fucking hot as well, and this time, she's showing off her ass.

Two hotties, one of whom showing her bare ass?  Yeah, that's enough for me to send an eggplant emoji -- actually two, one for each of them.  But then I paused.  Do I really want to do that?  I scroll through our Messenger to see if I sent her eggplant emojis before -- I haven't.  If I give her the double eggplant, will she be mad at me?  Worse yet, would she show her followers what I Messengered her?

I hope not, but I can't take that risk.  So despite my horniness, I decided not to respond.  It makes me sick to my stomach that I'm censoring myself.  But I'm getting older, though, and maybe more paranoid.

When I Socialize, I Eat ...

... and I had a group dinner on Friday and a friend's birthday dinner last/Saturday night.  I went to two places I haven't been to, and to celebrate, I ordered a lot of food.  And I ate it.  And I am fat, and I feel fat.  

Drank a bit, too.  Starting to feel like it's a bit much.  It certainly is wrecking my sleep schedule.  I went to bed early last/Saturday night because I was tired, and yet I woke up at 8.  And I see, as I type this, that the Gold Medal Game of the Olympic men's hockey tournament is going on now.  Everybody, and I mean everybody, is watching this Game ... and to celebrate, I think that I am going to go out to watch with other Americans, too.

I don't stop.  Even though, maybe, I should.

Living Like This

I just heard that there is an application that can pinpoint where people of color live in a given neighborhood.  All the information we have given through the Internet and our cellphones has finally been weaponized against us under this installed government.  Finally comes the surveillance state.  Meanwhile, the "small government" militias should be taking up arms now, but they're awfully quiet.  Turns out some of us knew all along: They're only small government when the people they don't like are in charge.  When people they do like are in charge, they're totally cool with that.  Shit, they might just take arms and become the hatchet men of the government.  Fucking posers.

---

I gave myself a nightmare whereby I have just shut the door on my way to my car in the morning and two of these pricks, standing against my house, jump me and try to hustle me into their SUV.  But I resist, punching and kicking and biting all the way.  Finally, I reach for some guy's gun and blast the two fuckers who were holding me down ... only to get shot by reinforcements standing a few feet away.

That might be how I go.

---

They got really close today.  These monsters were hanging out at the hospital, trying to get in.  Luckily, if I heard correctly, they weren't allowed in.  But they keep coming at us like this.

And now I hear they're vulturing around the elementary school.  What they're doing is kidnapping.  It's not lawful no matter what anyone says, it's kidnapping.  And kidnapping kids?  I don't care who they are, and I don't care what happens to them if, Lord willing, we the people finally stop them.  Disgusting.

---

I was invited to a party this weekend.  Want to, mostly because one of my ATFs is going, but I won't attend.  For one thing, it's at an area that feels as though it'll be visited.  For another, there's football, and I want to watch both Games.  But I have to tell you, the stripper organizing the house party has turned into a fucking MAGAt.  I had no idea she was so racist, but ever since he was installed a second time last year, she hasn't been shy about sharing memes on her Facebook that make my stomach turn.  And I'm very surprised it's coming from her because she's mixed.  Who does she think she is, White?

I have dropped on occasional comment on her Facebook implying what she's posting is wrong and/or Republican, but she hasn't said anything back to me on that front.  But when I told her I couldn't go to her party, she gave me a sad emoticon.  Does she understand how racist she is, and I'm not really digging that shit?  But why am I being so strident?  If this fascism dies down, I'll probably go to one of her parties again.

---

It seems as though there wasn't a whole lot of activity yesterday/Thursday, attempted invasion of the hospital aside.  I could be imagining things.  Maybe this is a lull before another surge.  Or, they might be hesitating because it turned cold yesterday/Thursday.  It'll get even colder today/Friday, and it'll be that way for the next week or so.  By God, if this gives these assholes a second thought, we just might get out of this.

My Quest To Find A New Pair Of Glasses Comes To A Surprising End

OK, so I am getting new glasses today/Sunday.  I have an updated prescription for lenses that I haven't changed in, like, four years.  Plus, I think my HSA through my employer is going to change next year.  I could be wrong.  In fact, there's a good chance I'm wrong.  But I don't have time to understand it, so I'm just going to pay for new glasses before the year's out.

The problem, for me, became formal.  Do I want new glasses?  As resistant to change that I am, and as much as my current frames fit my face and personality, I decided I could use a shake-up.  But, I ran a poll where I sent for five pairs of glasses from Warby Parker, and I have decided that I am going to go for the one that finished second in the poll.  (Two of them were far and away the most popular amongst my real and Facebook friends, and I went with the more popular, which had just a few more votes.)

The problem is that I could not find the name of the frame that finished second.  I swore up and down that I made a spreadsheet for it, but I couldn't find it.  So for the past few days I have been looking at the Warby Parker website to compare their frames with the one I wore in my picture which I posted for my friends to look at.  I was looking at every detail to see if what I was looking for was actually the one I was looking for.  I was looking at the what the bridge looked like, how thick the sides of the glasses were, etc.  I was getting a bit obsessed, to be honest.

Finally, I found that Excel spreadsheet.  I did write down the names of the frames that were the most popular on the spreadsheet.  And, it turns out, the two frames are no longer sold by Warby Parker.  That's why the one I was looking for I couldn't quite find on their website; they no longer make them.  Either of them, actually; I was wrong in thinking that the frame that won my Facebook poll is the one that I'm currently wearing.  It isn't.  Should have realized that when I was frantically looking at these photos I posted, I was asking my friends to pick out my glasses ten years ago.  I changed frames since then, maybe twice.

So never mind all that.  There are a couple of frames that I could go for, but I really just wanted to go back to selected that old frame, and since I can't, I'll just get a new pair with the same design that I'm wearing now.  If it ain't broke, don't fix it ... even though I thought about fixing it.

I Miss My Stripper Girlfriend

I don't know if you remember *****a, but she was one of the girls from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Version) with whom I had grown into a deeper relationship ... well, as deep as one can get between a john and a sex worker.  She's whip-smart, curious, and is more aligned with me politically than most of the other stripper girlfriends I've had.  If you have following WAF in the past, she's the one who once asked me, at a house party she was working, to stay because, and I quote, "I haven't seen it yet!"  And when I finally did, thank Buddha, she touched it, and me.

I have been putty in her hands since.  It was difficult to go to her place for HJs because she had this penchant for moving from place to place.  But she stood out from all my other stripper girlfriends because she was unapologetic over what she did.  She didn't air out any of her, or my, business, but she didn't shy away from her profession.  That's why I respect her.  Dammit, I will say that I love her, too.

But it's been a long time since I've been intimate with her, and she has done several things that are very uncharacteristic of her.  First of all, she has gotten quite political.  She began five years ago with George Floyd, and I thought that was really cool because I agreed with her views.  *****a has gotten quite politically active with sex work as well.  Parallel to that, she finally found a boyfriend.  I'll be honest; I wasn't too keen on it because if she is dedicating her life to someone, I cannot believe she would continue to wank me or any other guy on the side.  But I'm happy for her, if this is what she wants.

And then she ... disappeared.  I followed her on Facebook, but she apparently took that down.  I've texted her, but she hasn't replied to anything I've sent since the spring.  And I have no other way to reach her; unlike the other strippers from My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition), she was not close to any of the others, so I can't reach out to a mutual and ask how she's doing.

I had the feeling *****a was, shall we say, peripatetic, but I never got the feeling that she would ghost anyone.  She was restless when it came to where she lived, obviously, and her political activism made me feel like she could be passionate to the point of being impetuous, as many political fanatics become.  But she always seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, and I never thought she would just disappear as she has.

So maybe this has something to do with family.  I fear it has something bad to do with her boyfriend.  But dammit, I miss *****a.  I miss her touch.  I miss talking to her about her sex work advocacy.  I miss admiring someone who also gives me HJs, I really do.  I hope she's OK.  And if her being OK means not seeing me again ... that'll break my heart, but that's OK, too.

Oh, It's On TV.

So there was that epic, 15-Inning, winner-take-all Game 5 American League Division Series Friday night, where Seattle finally outlasted Detroit.  I got home from the escape room (successfully, I want to add) and eating late with my sister, and I was scrolling through when I saw that the Game, which began around 7, was still going on.  I think this was around 11 p.m, and there's nothing like extra innings in playoff baseball, so I hurriedly turned on my satellite radio to hear the rest of the Game.

Hell of a Game.  Great ending.  I think I caught the last three Innings (so, since the 12th?), and both teams had ample chances to break through and score, but the Pitching and Defense came through.  And I don't mind listening to sports on the radio, don't get me wrong.  But after the Game was over and I was scrolling through social media again (aside: I have strayed from my vow to get off social media ... and frankly, I don't know if I have the willpower to stay away), I saw a tweet or a skeet that Fox signed off at around 12:48 a.m.  Fox has TV rights for the American League side of the playoffs ... and that's when I remembered that Fox/Channel 9 was showing the Game.  I could have just turned on the TV instead of my satellite radio.

How did I get used to thinking a sports Game I want to keep up with won't be on broadcast television?  Actually, now that I think about it, most Games aren't on broadcast TV.  Oh, well.

Oh, I Need To Care About Other People's Feelings Now ...

I love my sister, and I'm glad she's home, even if it's not under the brightest of circumstances.  But it takes dim old me, who's been doing his own thing socially for a long time now, to recalibrate because, of course, your sis wants to do things with you.  And you realize that, hey, you want to do things with her, too.

The problem is that I have a bunch of days I've already planned for doing stuff, so that means that there are way fewer days for us to do stuff.  Also, I have no idea how long my sister is going to be here.  Finally, she laid out a series of things she wants to do, and I am still thinking about what to do with her and, even more importantly, when.  That is difficult.  For example, Saturday might have been a good time, but I have an eye appointment in the afternoon and I'm going to the MNUFC soccer Match that night.  I'm going to another soccer Match next week.  And I have sporting events I'm working on that'll also take up much of my time.  Meanwhile, she wants to go here, and there, and maybe even up north, and that'll take up a weekend, and I don't know if I have a weekend free.

Still, I need, and want, to take some time I would have reserved for myself and devote it to her.  Contrast that to considering the feelings of My Fucking Father, who blew a gasket and insulted me because I dragged the trash bin to a part of the driveway he deemed too close to the recycling bin.  He thinks those bins have to be as far apart from each other as possible.  Yeah, because the garbage truck and the recycling truck can't tell which bin to pick up if they're too close.  That asshole actually went out and dragged the trash bin to the other side of the end of the driveway.  That's weird.  What makes it even stupider is that he did that as my sister and I had started up my car because we were going to the library.  My Fucking Father dragged the trash bin behind where we would back down the car.  If my sister didn't negotiate around the trash bin, if she just backed down the driveway like any normal human being, we would've hit the bin.  But My Fucking Father absolutely had to move it there, and he couldn't at least fucking wait until we had left.  Childish son-of-a-bitch.

See, I don't want to care about what My Fucking Father thinks.  But I do want to care about what my sister thinks.  See the difference?

I Should Try Getting Off Of Social Media

Well, ever since the Jynx lost in Game 2 on Tuesday I was dreading the worst.  And I knew that if I came across bad news, I would do so while scrolling through Twitter or Bluesky.  So I did my best to stay off of them.  I think I've blog posted before that the urge to look was strong, so strong that I think I'm addicted to it.  But, I did.

And you know what?  I didn't feel bad.  The feeling that I was missing out on something was still there, believe me.  But that subsided since I started my self-ban.  Moreover, I was able to concentrate more on watching TV.  I have complained about missing key plays (such as Goals in soccer) because I would always take even a short lull in play to pick up my phone and start looking.  Yesterday/Sunday, knowing I wanted to say away from all things Jynx, I just curled up in my bed and watched the NFL ... well, when I wasn't passed out and taking naps.  Those are good ways to note doomscroll, too.  But all day I went without checking social media, and I felt alright.

Alas, since I do The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey, at some point I had to learn about what happened.  I was going to wait till today/Monday to hear any montage from The Common Man Progrum to tell me.  When I reached for my phone to see how charged it was, a notification from The Athletic app told me what I had feared, indeed the worst-case scenario: Minnesota indeed lost Games 3 and 4 and were summarily eliminated from the WNBA Playoffs.  My full autopsy on this abortion of a season will go up on Tuesday, but suffice it to say, this is one of the all-time chokejobs in Minnesota sports history.

With that seal broken, I declared the self-ban broken, and I went back on Twitter and Bluesky again.  This time I knew full well that not only did I want to see a reason as to how the Jynx fucked up this championship run, I wanted to see tweets and skeets reflecting my hate of this failure of a team -- "Yeah, anonymous person whom I don't even know could be a Russian bot -- insult all of those worthless players!  You dumb motherfuckers fucking SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"  And then I saw the litany of tweets and skeets about what Trump did and said, and all the ICE raids happening in the country, and all the rude and mean things Republicans said and did over the weekend ... and then I remember that whenever I go on social media, I get very upset and angry.  In fact, social media is engineered to get you upset and angry.  And then I remembered how I felt since Tuesday, when I just didn't go on social media.  Sure, the urge to see what I was missing out was there.  But I was a hell of a lot less upset and angry.  And now, come to think of it, being clued into what I'm missing out on isn't worth the rage that boils inside me whenever I scroll.

I liked how I felt when I wasn't constantly going through social media.  And maybe this will cost me being a more attuned sports fan and American citizen, but I don't know if I want to do it anymore.  Maybe these past few days of being clueless is actually beneficial to my soul ... and maybe I should stay off of it, permanently, for my health and mental well-being.

Think I'm Coming Down With Something

Starting on Sunday during work.  Felt achy that evening.  Had a huge, cycle-wrecking nap in the evening, but felt kind of the same.  And then during my real job yesterday/Monday I started getting the sniffles, and then after work the aches came back with a vengeance.  Uh-oh.

This felt like COVID.  The main thing I noticed when I got the virus is that my nose was running constantly, and that is happening now.  I just took a test, though, and it turned out negative.  Then again, it's more than two years old.

Welp, I took some NyQuil.  My nose is totally dry now.  Feel oogy, however.  And my aches and pains are still around.  But I'm tired, which might be my body's way of saying it needs me to rest while it fights off whatever it is is invading my body, even though I took another long nap this evening.

I wonder where I got it from.  If I started coming down with it on Sunday, I probably caught it Saturday, and the only social thing I did indoors with a lot of people was the game-watching event downtown.  Probably got it there, darn it.

Doing The Double (Music Version)!

I want to see Talib Kweli, and I also want to see Fitz And The Tantrums.  I didn't realize until recently that they're playing in downtown Minneapolis on the same night, tonight.

Dammit.  But maybe not dammit!  See, Talib Kweli (great follow on Bluesky, by the way) is playing at the Dakota, and he is playing two shows.  His first show starts at 6:30; his second is at 9.  Meanwhile, Fitz And The Tantrums doesn't get onstage till 9, even though the show and the opening act starts playing at 8.  I don't think Kweli is going 2 1/2 hours.  If he ends his set at 8:30, that means I can get out of the Dakota, walk up Hennepin, get to First Ave., and maybe even grab a cider before they go on at 9.  And hey, maybe they're going to do the rock star thing and get onstage at 9:15 or something, so I'll have plenty of time!

When I first thought up this diabolical plan, I actually was impressed with myself, and I am no longer impressed with myself unless I do stuff with strippers (and even then that's debatable).  Festivals aside (and they probably don't count because multiple acts play in one albeit huge venue), I have never seen two concerts on the same night, let alone the same day, in two different places.  I didn't think that was possible; I mean, concerts happen at night, right?  Well, thank Buddha for jazz clubs and early shows, because (assuming there are tickets and the ticket prices are reasonable), I think I can pull this off!

Outdoor Baseball? Mmm, Sorry

I was invited out to a Saints Game that took place last/Thursday night by alumni groups that we are trying to build relationships with.  As much as I wanted to go, I didn't think I could because work would probably make me late for First Pitch, and as a general rule, I don't want to go to a Game when I know I can't get to its very beginning.

I had other reasons I didn't want to go.  Another of my principles is that I will not pay for parking if I can help it, and St. Paul extends their street parking well into the evening.  That meant that I would have to park out of the downtown zone and then ride the light rail in, and that means I would have to figure out, build in, and get out of work at a fairly early time (as it is nowadays) to factor in public transportation and to make First Pitch.  Also, yesterday was a humid day, and I was not feeling hanging out in outdoor stands getting sweaty (and possibly with the sun beating down on me) trying to get to know people in order to organize more alumni events.

So I decided on Wednesday that I probably couldn't attend, and I let the lead organizer know.  And then the damndest thing happened.  I don't know what was up at work, but the heavy workload that I anticipated, and that has reliably been overwhelming ... wasn't there.  As many forms came into the building as it usually has, but apparently nearly all of them had the complete and correct information.

So, did I decide to go to the Game then?  Nope.  I realized that while I couldn't make it to the Saints Game if I got out of work too late, I didn't want to go to the Saints Game if I got out of work too early.  I had no interest yesterday to think of something to do for 90 minutes to two hours before I made my way to St. Paul.  And there was still the weather, which, admittedly, was not as sweat-inducing as I thought it would be, but was in no way comfortable for me to hang out for a 2 1/2-hour baseball Game.

So I went home.  And ate dinner (alone; I thought that since I got home at a not-insane time, my parents and I would eat dinner together, but alas).  And then I fell asleep for about an hour.

I hope these organizations have another shindig I can get to.  I really do want to try and attend one.

The Correct-Minded Beaches In Los Angeles

I lived in Los Angeles for college, and while I miss living there, it has been apparent that large parts of the area are infested with MAGAts.

As Trump was leaving, I saw tweets about Hunting Beach, Calif., having massive protests against him leaving.  It saddened me.  I always wanted to go to Huntington Beach because it looked beautiful, but apparently the people there and their politics were decisively ugly.

So, I asked through Twitter just now if there were any beaches in the L. A. area that were more progressive in their outlook.  I got two responses.  And I decided I will type them in here, for posterity.

The first is Venice Beach.  Went there once.  A street busker was racist toward me, so eh.  The second has been deleted when I looked, but I think, and I hope, it's Santa Monica.  There was one weird dude there, but besides that, I loved going there when I had a chance to go there.

So, Venice and Santa Monica Beaches -- the correct-minded beaches in Los Angeles.

I Don't Know Why I Let Her Hurt Me So

So I'm social media friends with this porn star.  We have a mutual friend.  I find her to be engaging and smart.  I also see, from the way she shoots down incels, that she doesn't suffer fools lightly, and as a fool, I was afraid that she would turn her verbal knives on me, and for something that I completely didn't intend.

With that being said, I did have the option of choosing my words carefully, even deciding not to comment on something she said.  And yet, on Facebook, I went over the breach when she posted a screenshot of a text exchange with, er, someone.  This guy started off the conversation (or at least the the first part of the conversation she showed) with something along the lines of, "Well, I'll probably get shot down, but YOLO -- would you go out with me?" to which she replied, "Well, since you started off being so insecure, you definitely will get shot down."  See, I see a lot of myself in this guy.  He needs to put up his walls even if he tries to do something positive because he is afraid, and he knows, that he will get hurt.  I think that's totally understandable.

Therefore, I ventured into her comments section and said something to the effect of, "I think he was only being humble."  For some reason I thought she wouldn't respond.  She is busy working on a film, or something.  Instead, she immediately goes, "WHAT?!"  Ah, whoops.

Just then I imagined myself at a fork in the road -- like, literally standing on the spot where one road splits into two.  I could just not respond, and so she would either let it go or think that I was being a dick who couldn't back up what I said.  On the other hand, I could respond, and either she could be understanding (or, better yet, laugh at my comment) ... or she could totally ridicule me.  Either way, there remains the possibility that she would block me.

With what I thought was a binary choice, I think I actually found a middle path that may have made things even worse.  I replied, quickly, and I thought I had something to say, something like, "So you're telling me this dude, who I assume you've never met, actually had a chance to meet or go out with or even have sex with you, but you shot him down because he expressed self-doubt that someone who is both gorgeous and in adult films would say yes?"  But I thought that I would be saying too much.  Also, I thought time was of the essence; if I didn't say something, she would cut me off at the knees.  So, as a stupid compromise, I went "I just ..." and then I threw up a shrug emoji.  And she replied, "ok weirdo."

Well, I guess I blew my chance to meet or go out with or even have sex with her, too.  But ever since it happened last night, she's been on my mind, and my brain continues to ask why that is.  I have seen her naked.  I have seen her "work."  She's bleepin' gorgeous and can go all night like an incinerator.  But I've never met her.  We have interacted through social media a few times, but I have never met her.  So why is her comment affecting me so much?  Better I put it this way: Why am I letting someone I've never met affect me so much?  It's because she's a porn star, or that she's hot, or that she was nice to me a few times before.  But still, I have to be honest: We've never met.  We are not friends.  So why does her comment to me make me so sad?  I can't be like that.  Otherwise, my day will be ruined whenever someone isn't nice to me.  Well, that actually happens now, but that's something that I shouldn't let happen to me, you know?

I'll try and get over it.  But there is one saving grace to all this.  I would think that if she snaps at someone like she did to me, she would block that person.  It's the Internet, after all, and if she didn't like what I said, it stands to reason that she would block me, for safety's sake or because she's annoyed.  But she hasn't, at least not yet.  Maybe she recognizes my name and thinks, "Whatever, he's harmless."  That probably is the best I can shoot for, and maybe, just maybe, I can think of something more clever to say to her in order to get back in her good graces.  (Gosh, look at me caring what she thinks of me again.)

I Miss Soccer Goals

So a pretty important Liga MX playoff Semifinal was on last/Sunday night between two of the big clubs in that league, Club America and Cruz Azul.  I came home in time to catch most of the Second Half.  When I tuned in, Cruz Azul was up 1-0.  That's important because, for this league at this stage of their postseason, they have the two squads play a home-and-home.  The most Goals scored in aggregate wins the series.  (When I started watching, that 1-0 scoreline was also the aggregate score; the two XI's finished scoreless in their first Match mid-week.)  If the two teams score the same number of Goals, the team that finished higher in the regular season (who is always the team that hosts the second Game of this two-Leg series) advances.

Hell of a Match, by the way.  Cruz Azul scores again to go up, on the road, 2-0 and 2-0 on aggregate.  But America was awarded a Penalty Kick, which they slotted.  Then, a header to a header went top shelf.  Club America tied it, but they went ahead because they got more Points than sworn rival Cruz Azul during the regular season.  That's how the Match ended, and that is how America advanced to the two-legged Final this Week against Toluca.

Oh, did I mention that I missed that Game-tying/series-winning Goal?  I like soccer, I really do.  If I didn't, I wouldn't be a season-ticketholder for MNUFC.  Hell, yesterday/Sunday afternoon I went to see a Match with the Loons' reserve squad, MNUFC2, for the first time ever.  They lost, but the 2's play about ten minutes north of me, and everything is obviously cheaper because this is minor league soccer, so I should go to a few Games over the summer.  Anyway, I like it.  But sometimes, the sport gets a little, you know, boring.

I should blog post at some point about me being addicted to social media and my phone.  Anyway, during a slow spot in the Match, I naturally picked up my cell and went through my Facebook.  I saw that a Playboy Playmate I am Facebook friends with put up a video of her son graduating from college.  I then wanted to know what last name he took.  He has the same last name as his mother, which is the name she used when she posed, which (and I hope my logic is sound here) she never married the person with whom she has her child, and in fact neither she nor the son have much contact with the son's biological father.  I find that intently interesting, and no, I am under no illusions I will ever meet her.

So while I was thinking about all that, America scored that Match-tying/series-winning Goal.  It is not the first time I was looking at my phone when I missed a Goal, let alone an important one such as that.  But I hate it.  And I keep telling myself I will watch a Match straight through, without distracting myself, and I keep failing.  But dammit, I will not look at my cell for both Legs of the Final (if Thursday's First Leg is not broadcast on Univision, then definitely Sunday night's Second Leg).  If I hate missing soccer Goals, I have to stop doing the things that make me miss soccer Goals, you know?

Lost A Facebook Friend Over Chappell Fucking Roan

You know, I need to get off of Facebook, or at least ratchet it down the way I'm only dipping my toe in Twitter these days.  I don't think Mark Zuckerberg is insinuating himself into the day-to-day destruction of the American government like Elon Musk is, but like the Muskrat, he owns a social media platform that, as a direct result of Trump being reinstalled as President, he has turned into an unsafe, unfair, Republican forum of lies, rudeness and disinformation.  But I still get stuck in it because I'm addicted to wishing my Facebook friends Happy Birthday and giving condolences when one of their family members passes away.

And I need to emphasize "Facebook friends."  They're not "real" friends, I guess, because I've never met them.  But the vast majority of friends I have on Facebook I have never met.  Those people are mostly women, nearly all of them strikingly hot.  I was suggested by the Facebook algorithm to friend them, scrolled through a few pictures of them in bikinis or other revealing clothing, I extended a request, and they accepted.  And that's how we became friends, or "Facebook friends."

Well, I lost one Sunday, and it was over politics, or it was tangentially over politics.  It was ostensibly over supernova pop singer Chappell Roan.  I'm not completely familiar with her work because, frankly, I don't want to.  I heard of her persona away from the stage before I listened to "Pink Pony Club," and I didn't like it.  She waded into politics before November's election -- particularly how she stood up for Palestinians in Gaza and bashed both Joe Biden and Kamala Harris for siding with Israel.

Do you know, however, that the Missourian Roan has a Republican uncle?  Darin Chappell is a member of the Missouri House of Representatives representing a district in the southwestern part of the state.  Back in the fall, Chappell co-sponsored a bill banning public funds going to abortion facilities in Missouri.  I have seen no article that shows he has any progressive, liberal, moderate, or, dare I say, sane views.  He's a MAGAt, plain and simple, and even though you can't choose family, if you call yourself an advocate for drag queens and other liberal causes with the ferocity you bashed Democrats over Gaza, I think it stands to reason that your silence in the face of a family member's Republican bona fides makes you somewhat of a hypocrite.

The post that started this mess on Facebook gave me another reason to think Roan is a fraud.  According to this article -- and yes, I should be fact-checking what I see more often -- Roan seemingly took back the political stances she has espoused on stage and interviews in the past, saying she "doesn't have time to educate herself on politics" because she's just a pop singer.  That's pretty damn laughable on its face because she's stuck her nose in politics ever since she became popular.  Again, if you want to wade into politics, that's your right.  If you don't, and want to be a cypher like Sabrina Carpenter, that's OK, too.  But you have got to pick a lane, stay in your lane, and defend your lane.  Roan clearly has not, and the person who posted this article about Roan not wanting to get into politics pointed that out and called Roan a fake for this flip-flop.

Now, I didn't see this link to this article to which this person said Roan's a fraud directly.  I don't know the person who gave this opinion (although I followed her after I read it).  I saw the link to the article from my former Facebook friend, who I think (I'm not quite sure) was defending Roan.  Apparently, she's a fan.  And this being social media, there was a part of me that, after I read this opinion, fell in love with it, and wanted to engage with my Facebook friend, said, "Be careful.  You might lose this friend if you say what you want to say."  And I heard that part of me ... and I went ahead and disagreed with her.  Tastefully, of course.

Specifically, I said that Roan always smelled like a two-face and right on to this person putting Roan on blast.  To which my Facebook friend gave me a screenshot of a Variety article that said Roan was going to vote for Harris after all.  But it looked to get a little more personal than that: She accused me of not looking up evidence that proved I was right, and that she had already given proof that she was right, and that she had already proved to me that Roan was going to vote "correctly," and why did I think she had to prove it to me again.  I thought the Variety article made Roan out not to be the diehard Harris supporter my Facebook friend said she was; it sounded as Roan was being dragged, kicking and screaming, into the voting booth to vote for the lesser of two evils.

I was going to tell my Facebook friend this, but she defriended me.

I have to admit: This hurts.  I've been thinking about her off and on all day at work since she did that.  We are on the same side politically.  I had this big rant I posted on Facebook Inauguration Eve and she commented in a way that made me believe she was an ally.  I also found her to be very sweet when not talking about politics.  And yes, she's hot as hell.  So it pains me to see that she is no longer my Facebook friend, and all because of Chappell Fucking Roan.

But should I be that torn up?  This is the paradox of social media.  I have never met her, and chances were low that I ever would, but I think I know her.  She has been honest about some very low lows, and so there is a level of intimacy you can achieve with people you will never see face-to-face.  And that is why I feel so bad about this.  Then again, this is social media, a liminal state where people come and go.  I've cut off people I've been Facebook friends with for some time because of politics, and I haven't given it a second thought.  Doesn't she have the right to do the same?  And besides, is my real life truly, truly being affected if she isn't my Facebook friend anymore?

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I slid into her DMs and said that, while I apologize, I did not take back what I said about Roan.  I also was sorry that she got upset that (according to her) I made her look up proof when she already said what she said.  And, well, that's it.

I do believe in inner peace.  Cut people off if they say something you don't like, absolutely.  And yet, when it happens to you, you just wonder why people get set off so easily.  Yes, that's hypocritical.  But dammit, she's no longer Facebook friends with me because of Chappell Fucking Roan.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Monday, March 31:

• Welp, I'll have to leap all the way back to my birthday, when I gave myself a birthday gift of an HJ from ******e at her place in south Minneapolis.  Glad to see I can pud out when coaxed.  And she didn't overcharge me this time either: $120.
• After getting drained I walked over to Matt's Bar.  The Jucy Lucy has such a worldwide reputation that a group of people from outside the country asked for a table -- "four guys from France," they confessed.  Well, bonjour!  Jucy Lucy, half order of fries, Coke and tip: $22.
• On Tuesday the 11th I may have had the worst shave of my life at the school there.  The guy kind of didn't give a shit about me.  He cut me up in a couple of places on my face.  I think he stopped during my shave to give himself a shave.  And he finished off the session by squirting alcohol all over my eyes as well as my cheeks.  I'm trying not to think this was due to malevolence, but to make sure, I am staying away from this place -- and instead paying a lot more money for a shave -- for the next half-year, just to make sure he's moved on before I come back there.  I don't remember the last time I only tipped two bucks, but hey, he deserved it.  Total cost: $11.
• This was the day ****e* went to my house to clean.  I offered to get her dinner.  She wanted Potbelly.  She was going to subtract the cost of the sandwich from her cleaning job, but I spent, with tip: $7.48.
• Meanwhile, as she was about to start, we were talking in the bathroom.  And like it was no big deal, she started to take her clothes off in front of me.  She usually changes into her cleaning clothes, so it's not quite like that.  But I don't know if she was doing it in front of me absentmindedly or if she felt that, because she has been naked for me when she was a stripper, she just felt comfortable changing clothes in front of me.  Still, she has never let me see her change clothes, so I instinctively started touching myself.  I should've pulled down my pants and started masturbating in front of her, but I really needed her to clean the house.  Anyway, she once again did a fantastic job, and I'm glad she was able to take care of the house after more than a year away.  Cost: $240.
• Friday, March 7 ... went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) for one last fling before my parents came home.  Cover, twenty dances with my ATF, drinks for her and for me, and tips, and it all came out to: $240.
• Tuesday, March 4: Saw my first movie in a while, the latest in the MCU, Captain America: Brave New World.  It's ... fine, but the entire series is lacking direction since Endgame.  But I still try and catch every film because I am story-committed.  Price of the ticket: $5.42.
• And now, back to Wednesday, February 26, when I got lottery tickets for Father: $20.
• Later that evening I participated in a volunteer effort spearheaded by, of all people, my financial advisor.  I have never met him, but this was a meal-packing event that was only ten minutes away from home, so I figure that after other e-mails from him inviting me to other volunteer opportunities, I should finally introduce myself.  It was nice, and afterward we went to a nearby restaurant to eat -- all on his company's dime!  I should've bought more food and took some home.  Anyway, I donated to the organization we volunteered at: $5.

Good through March 31.

Social Media Truly Is A Shithole

I have really cut down on Twitter (fuck calling it X), and my big regret is that I didn't quit it sooner.  I waited until the results of the election, which was a mistake, because I had heard and seen that the new owner of Twitter was turning it into a white supremacist cesspool.  It wasn't the free-wheeling Twitter of even 2016, when it was used to peddle Republican disinformation.

You know, come to think of it, I should've quit Twitter of the 2016 election.  And I knew how destructive that platform was leading up to November, but I stayed on because the algorithm successfully engaged my rage.  But now that I saw how successful it was in brainwashing The Enemies Among Us, I had to leave ... and the owner and his fascists followers have the last laugh.

Now, I'm not deleting my account or anything.  In fact, I still go there from time to time.  I think I hear that the worst thing you can do is just keep your account dormant, because then hackers can get into your account and post as yourself, and I don't need anyone acting as an impostor.

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What I have done with Twitter I should do with Facebook.  It has also gone downhill lately, namely around the time Zuck went to suck Trump's dick.  I see a lot more ads than status updates from friends, especially when I'm scrolling through the app on my phone.  There isn't much disinformation I'm seeing, but there are a hell of a lot more ads, and I am kind of over being sold stuff that doesn't interest me.  Also, all these tech bros kissing the ass is anti-democratic.  Every time I get on Facebook and interact is more money I'm giving Zuck.  So I'm trying to cut down, but goddammit, it's so goddamn addictive!

And Now The Black Cloud Descends On Our Nation

I do feel a palpable dread from the correct-minded people of this nation now.  It has animated my anxiety and a lot of my short temper since November, but now that it's finally "here," I feel my sadness, anger an bitterness runneth over.

The thing I am still trying to reconcile is that, if I recall correctly, I felt things were going to be just as bad eight years ago.  Why is everything worse now?  Well, we correct-minded people really thought that our fellow Americans would remember the facts that he was convicted of multiple felonies, was called a rapist by a judge, acted like a petty asshole who talks like someone who has Alzheimer's and thought, "Yeah, I want more of that good shit," or didn't care enough to vote.  Our fellow Americans seem to be OK with liars and grifters and people who break the law.  And all of us who hated what we went through cannot deal with how we'll have to deal with all that bullshit again.

I see a meme on social media likening the second TFG's administration to watching the second plane hit the other Twin Tower.  That's totally apt.  The first time we were so confused as to what's going on.  Now?  We now know what's about to happen.  And we're terrified.

I hope that I have the courage and the resilience to resist more than I did the last time.  It'll be very, very hard doing so with the knowledge that there are Enemies Among Us who prefer dictatorship over democracy, and want to kiss the ass of a con man.  But soldier on I must.