I'm gonna do it; despite not having the money, I will go this house party and potentially have some "dances" from the stripper who invited me.  I'm feeling pretty perverted these days, so maybe this will lead to something.  Will update later.

It is possible that Grandmother is starting to lose it -- starting to forget more things, doing things that she shouldn't do, repeating things she should know I've already done, etc.

My Fucking Father wants to put her in a home.  It may very well get to that point.  But how did it get to that point?  Is it because she's losing it?  Or is because My Fucking Father keeps telling her she's losing it?

Well, it's been four days, which is what the rental car people said it would take for them to make a decision.  I believe they said they would call me, but I haven't received anything yet.  Which would mean they won't file a claim.  Right?

I'd be out of the woods, but I haven't checked my credit card statement yet.  Will do so after work tonight.  I don't want a surprise to ruin my day.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Swarm (Two Weeks Ago: -1). A home-and-home sweep of Colorado have put the local lacrosse team back at .500 after a 1-3 start. They have won three in a row. And most importantly, they go back-to-back on the WMNSS! Their home win of the Mammoth was by a franchise record 10 points. And in the following week's road win, they came back from a 12-11 deficit with two minutes left to go to score the tying and winning goals. Sadly, they play in the much stronger Western Conference and holding on to the fourth playoff spot. They are off for the week -- which means they won't be on top here three times in a row.

#-2: Wrestling (Two Weeks Ago: -5). One game, a victory over Penn St., but the Nittany Lions were 10th in the country, and the Gophers maintained their grip on 5th in the polls. They finish conference play 7-1, but they still are firmly second behind behemoth Iowa for this week's Big Ten Tournament.

#-3: Wild (Two Weeks Ago: -3). The Olympic Break meant the team just got back into the swing of things this week. Good for them; they've only played one game this time period, and it's a 4-0 ass-kicking of the Bastard Atlanta Flames (on the road!) and their shellshocked Goalie, Mikka Kipprusoff, who was made Team USA's bitch in Vancouver. They're still on the outside of the playoff picture, however. In the NHL you're never really out of it, and the Wild are currently about five points away from the eighth and final playoff spot in the Western Conference. But there are about four teams standing between them and it, and so the club will have to go through a monster run to surge past the records of all the other teams to claim it. Doubt it'll happen ... and that may be why they traded away Eric Belanger to Washington for a second-round draft pick.

I was looking at the rest of the Wild's schedule while taking a piss. Did you know that for the month of March all the games they play on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday are home games and all the games on Thursday, Friday and Saturday are on the road? The X is very busy hosting high school sports tournaments (though they also have a men's college hockey regional this year, too). They visit Edmonton and Detroit between home games versus the Flames and Florida this week.

#-4: Gopher women's hockey (Two Weeks Ago: -4). Are they turning their season around? They lost at Ridder to Wisconsin, but since them have ripped off three in a row, culminating in a triple-overtime victory against MSU-Mankato to complete a sweep in the first round of the WCHA Tournament. Unfortunately, that 0-4-1 spell a month ago means that they host the Final Faceoff this week only as the second seed; UMD is first. What happens if they lose to the Bulldogs in the final Sunday afternoon? They'll make the NCAA, they just won't win. Oh, by the way, Defenseman Anne Schleper was named conference Defensive Player Of The Year. Think she'll be able to stop Ohio St. all by herself Saturday?

#-5: Gopher men's hockey (Two Weeks Ago: -8). Their 3-1 last four is a minor uptick in their season, an equivalent to a dead-cat bounce. Sure, they swept eighth-ranked Colorado College and beat #11 UMD 3-2 last Friday in Duluth. But they then seemingly exhausted themselves in the rematch Saturday, losing 3-0. They finish Big Ten play hosting Wisconsin for two. However, only the second game will be played in Mariucci, and it's being contested Sunday afternoon instead of its usual time of Saturday night. Why? From what I've heard, Mariucci officials mistakenly booked a synchronized skating (no, not pairs skating, and no, not synchronized swimming ... synchronized skating) this weekend without knowing or remembering that the Gophs were scheduled there. I'm guessing the hockey team decided they could move because they wanted to see if they could bring in more people for a game at the larger Target Center, where they'll be playing tonight (Friday night). I'm also guessing that the crowd will be at least half Badger fans. Just a hunch.

#-6: Gopher men's basketball (Two Weeks Ago: -2). A frustrating 2-2 stretch that should leave them out of the Big Dance this year. The blew out Indiana at home, which they had to do. But then they sqandered a prime chance at a statement win, pissing away the lead in the clutch and losing at the Barn to Purdue by a point when their best player, Robbie Hummel, twisted his ankle in the middle of the game. Losing that game provided the juice they needed to start off face and hold off Illinois by two in their statement win ... which suddenly wasn't after their 28-point pooch-screwing at Michigan, giving the Wolverines the season sweep. This is like the NIT-bound Gophers I grew up with. They finish conference play hosting Iowa Sunday evening, then playing a first-round game in the Big Ten Tournament Thursday.

#-7: Gopher baseball (Re-Entry!). The Gopher Nine are back! And they're as schizophrenic as ever!! Coach John Anderson is stressing that the club is young, and they are, but I still can't get over a sweep at the hands of three Big East teams. C'mon, the Big East! They're just as overmatched like a mid-major in baseball as we are! But St. John's, UConn and Louisville all defeated the Gophers in the Big East/Big Ten Challenge in Florida last weekend (though, to be completely fair, all but the loss to the Huskies were by 5-4 margins). And with their 13-6 loss to Wisconsin-Milwaukee Wednesday, their losing streak is four, and memories of winning two out of three against Akron to start the season now feels like a figment of your imagination. This weekend marks the return of the Dairy Queen Classic. I was hoping to see the Gophers take on Oklahoma St. Saturday night (I love it when I see college teams and their fans playing games and meets on the campus at the U.), but I'll settle for wins against the Cowboys, Loyola Marymount and Northwestern -- hey, what's a Big Ten school doing here???

#-8: Timberwolves (Two Weeks Ago: -7). Oh, sure, Al Jefferson's DWI wasn't the smartest thing to do. Neither is Corey Brewer "accidentally" hitting and breaking the jaw of Jet Terry, the guard for Dallas. I'd give both of them brakes because, well, they play for the Woofie Dogs. They finished a brutal 1-6 stretch, their only win a thriller coming against Miami, by three, at Miami. This team has officially hit the mental snooze button. By the way, does anyone think Brian Cardinal can still play some good minutes? And how will Wolves fans react to Jefferson when he comes back from his suspension? They play four in a row, three of them at home this week: Houston (without Jefferson), Dallas and Denver. Make it 1-9.

#-Infinity: Gopher women's basketball (Two Weeks Ago: -6). Though their won-lost record won't indicate this, the Gophs are now in last place in the Big Ten for the first time since the Dark Days of Cheryl Littlejohn. A nine-point win at Indiana doesn't eliminate the stench coming from their three-game losing streak: A non-competitive effort at home against Michigan, a 20-point shellacking against Michigan St., and a first-round defeat in the Big Ten Tournament last (Thursday) night to Penn St., a squad they swept during the regular season. That they lost to those same Nittany Lions by 11 points (11!) in a tournament game makes you wonder how much of the blame can be attributed to the competence of the coach or the lethargy of the players. That's it -- season's over. With their 13-17 record, they will not be playing in a postseason for the first time since Littlejohn's last year, 2000-1. Wow, we very well could be settling back down to the bottom of the barrel.

I say hire Lindsay Whalen as new Head Coach. At this point it couldn't hurt.

Today In Family Dysfunction

Shit continues to hit the fan in the household, and for no good goddamn reason.

My Fucking Father continues to be a cruel asshole to Grandmother.  He came home early today because he was switching freezers and just railed at her for ... something stupid.

Then he fucking drops some forms in my lap because he needs a rebate.  Should've called and asked questions some other day instead of during "work."  (Came in late again, by the way -- would've been on time but that asshole being at home freaked me the shit out and I had to leave early, and too early so I decided to have lunch and things kind of went over time.  No, that's not an excuse, that's an explanation, and one that should suffice.  Please don't fire me for being a half-hour late.)

Later during dinner, while My Fucking Father continued to yell at Grandmother ("Why are you doing this?!" "Don't do that!!!"), My Fucking Mother yelled at me because My Fucking Father was pissed at me last night for being "noisy" out in the living room.  Oh, me working on my laptop in the dining room last night because my workspace (which was my sister's room) is now packed with all the shit that was in my bedroom which My Fucking Father moved there, is that what you mean?  Hey, I remember you beating the shit out of me for no good reason when I was young.  But ever since I saw you get pushed around by My Fucking Father you've been nothing but a timid little bitch cowering to every mood he gives off, and I learned that pussy behavior from you.  Why can't you be a cunt again?  You'd be a cunt, but at least you'd be consistent.

And as My Fucking Mother is berating me, Grandmother does this thing that always pisses me off where she just utters this nonsensical bullshit.  She's either repeating what My Fucking Mother is saying or pithy comments about not angering the man of the house.  Hey, My Fucking Father no longer talks to you unless he's verbally abusing you, and now you're sticking up for him??  What the fuck???  Maybe you are senile, goddammit.

Fuck My Life.

Another Sucky Thing From My Trip

Someone scuffed my rental!  Not a ding, there's no damage, but on the driver's side-rear bumper there's a series of horizontal scratches.  I tried to see if I could rub it off, but no -- it's there.  Some fucker must've clipped it driving around it my last night in the Loo.

After I discovered it I had a choice to make: Either bring it to the attention of the rental place or ignore it.  I decided that there was no way this scratch could be missed, and I could then be accused of trying to hide it.  So I declared it as soon as the person checking me in asked me how I was doing.

"Look, I'm not going to be responsible for this," and I emphatically pointed out the scratches to her.  I was hoping she was going to say, "Nah, no big deal, we have a lot of cars that look like that."  But no, she told me I needed to report to their roadside incident number.  Oh shit.

I had the option of calling it in when I came back home, but I decided to just nip this shit in the bud and do it now.  I thought I could just report it to someone at the rental place, but I actually had to call it in, and so I used one of their phones.

At this point, I was hoping that they'd just say something to the effect of, "We'll take care of it."  And the woman on the other end of the phone did hint that the scratches may have been there before I even took the car.  But, she told me that they'll investigate, including calling the person who rented that car before me, and four days or so later they'll call me back and report the findings.

Which means: I'm fucked.  They'll think I did it.  The guy before me will say he didn't notice any marks on the car, which means I had possession of it when it happened, and even though I didn't do a goddamn thing and the car is in perfect working order, they'll make me pay inflated prices for buffing out seven scratches on a car, even though people are just going to drive it anyway and not even notice a single fucking difference.

Why does this shit have to happen to me?  And just when I was ignoring all my money troubles on this trip.

Actually, I had a few good times on my vacation.  Depending on what fucking happens with this rental car verdict, I will either feel good enough to tell you this weekend or some other time when I don't feel like putting a bullet to my head.

Just researched online.  I know I'll be dinged for this "damage."  Fucking rental car companies. ...

Now I Really Really Really Want To Fucking Kill My Fucking Father

You know, and I thought everything was going so well with us just before I left for my vacay. I was tipped by my Grandmother that My Fucking Father basically went into my room and rearranged everything. And sure enough, as soon as I went home and saw bags of my stuff there, I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

And I was right. My room was basically cleaned out of everything that I wanted in there, and My Fucking Father took the liberty of moving my bed, my desk, my TV, my radio, and all the other big stuff in a new place. The closet doors, which I keep open because I fucking want to, was cleared of my stuff. Half of my shirts were gone. Half of all my clothing wasn't in plain sight, which I want it to be. Later I looked in my chest, which has nine drawers; all clothing was in there, instead of the stashes of Entertainment Weeklys I kept there.

I want to murder My Fucking Father. Really, I do. He took advantage of my absence to invade my privacy and make things fall into an order that he likes. My feelings, nor the fact that I had absolutely everything the way I want it to be, be damned. And I certainly resent the fact that he used me and my things to indulge his weird goddamn habit of cleaning things. Now I don't know where in the hell my stuff is. And no, I shouldn't have to look for it because he moved it. Goddamn you, Father, I didn't fucking ask you to do this!!!

But what can I do? It goes beyond "his house, his rules." I really can't murder My Fucking Father, even though he deserves it, because I have no balls. And I hate the fact that he put some thought into the rearrangement: He filled the drawers up by category (pants, underwear, hats), not willy-nilly, and he even put nails in the wall to put up some my hat rack and a couple of fitness awards I got in high school. Does that make up for going through my shit? Fuck and no, and I'm going make damn sure he knows that. But what can I do under these circumstances, especially when, as I fear, he hasn't thrown away anything?

I have to get back at him the family way: passive-aggressiveness and emotional manipulation. I have to let him know I hate him for what he's done to me by not exactly telling him. I think I'll just leave all the papers and books and sentimental objects where he put them, because that's where he put them. I'll be missing more dinners. I won't help out with setting up the table. I'll sleep in late and not turn my phone on. Whenever he asks me to do something, I'll half-ass it, do it late, or not do it at all. I'll make noise late at night -- oh, he hates that. And I'll fucking ask him for money for school, then blow it on strippers and handjobs. Those are equivalents of pea-shooters, but they're the only weapons in my arsenal.

I really don't know why he can't just fucking let things be. I don't do drugs, I don't get into trouble, and I make no one pregnant. Why gives him the goddamn right to do this? And why the fuck does he think he needs to do this? Leave it alone. Leave me alone.

Revenge has to be mine. Really, man, stay out of my room!

I Go Dark

I will be on vacation till Monday.  Should be able to find a public library while I'm away, but I'm not certain.  At any rate, there will be no WMNSS till the following Friday.

OK, I'll admit the truth: I'm going to St. Louis.  Southwest began direct flight to there last month with an introductory $49 each-way sale.  I'm going down there for just over $100.  At the time I figured, when the hell's the next time I'll be able to fly that cheap anywhere?  Alas, my money woes have made me second-guess that decision.  A lot of my credit card bill this month is because of hotel and car; without those charges, I won't be in such bad shape.  That, of course, would mean I'd stay home.  Which kind of makes sense.

You know, I love STL, but I honestly have no idea why I'm going.  I shouldn't be going.  I have no money.  And I won't be able to enjoy myself because I have no money.

This is going to be a fucking disaster.

See y'all Monday.

Follow-Up To Yesterday's Gas Problem

The verdict: I was wrong!  Tooling around yesterday I saw that the gas stations near my home actually raised the price of gas by more than a dime.  So I hauled ass to the station where I had a coupon and filled up my tank before they changed their price, thank Buddha.

All this hemming and hawing for nothing. ...

To Gas Up Or Not To Gas Up

Taking off from my previous blog post, another thing that has brought me face-to-face with my lavish lifestyle was my drive to see the North Star Roller Girls at the Minneapolis Convention Center Saturday night.

I knew my ticket was in my day planner, and because I didn't want to bring my bookbag to the coffeehouse that afternoon, I put my day planner in my laptop bag.  But after I woke up from my early evening nap, I bolted out of the house with just my bookbag.  I realized my ticket was all the way back at home just before I thought I found a parking spot a few blocks from the bout.

I actually got out of the car and checked the bookbag in my trunk just to be sure.  I actually should've done that before I left the driveway.  So I was faced with a choice: Just fuckin' find a spot, go in there and buy a ticket for two bucks more than I paid for the advance ticket, or drive all the way back home to get it.  Paying a ticket at the box office is $12, and I was going to roller derby, so this was one of the few times where I didn't really agonize over my choice: I started driving back home.

And I was pissed off, at myself.  Fortunately, that's all it went to.  That's why I like being alone: My failures are my own, not further burdened by the shame and disappointment in letting down others.  If I was with My Fucking Father, Buddha help me recover from the verbal and non-verbal onslaught that son-of-a-bitch would come at me with for forgetting a ticket.

Anyway, the obvious downside to that is that I had to use up gas -- 20 more miles' worth, in fact.  I had been at about 1/4 tank, but I thought I could make it to Monday at least.  With my fuck-up, however, I felt sure that I'd need to do it the next day, Sunday.

But actually, I didn't.  Driving back home late Saturday for good, the low fuel light came on.  Damn, did I drive that much?  I always think with a quarter tank I'd be able to do a day's worth of driving, but always I'm surprised at how much gas I go through, at least according to the tank.

And this is where I get stubborn.  I'm approaching $500 on my Visa bill, and I don't want to go over that.  I know I'll be at that point once I fill up all the way, but I don't want it to be so soon because I think -- maybe unrealistic -- that I'll have to just fill up my car again before I leave for vacation.  But I don't want to get stuck on the side of the highway because I have absolutely no gas left.  Moreover, creeping back into my mind is the thought of my fuel pump.  I hear that you should always keep your gas tank at least a 1/4 full (some say 1/2 to be sure) because it starts the pump starts to overheat if there isn't enough fuel coarsing through it.  I regularly flout that rule.  Because I'm a lazy badass like that.

I didn't feel that badass driving around my neck of the woods Sunday, however -- I felt pig-headed.  I found this coupon for getting gas at this place I usually go to, but I suspected that even with the discount, the gas I was going to pay there was more expensive than elsewhere.  In fact, while running an errand for My Mother, I ran across an area close to my place that seemed to have a collection of gas stations quoting prices several cents lower than the ones closest to my house.  And these were places close enough to make the hike worth it -- at least I think.

The last time I gassed up I actually went to one of those places because I couldn't find a coupon for the place I usually patronize.  Just to check I went back to that gas station, whose coupons usually get me five cents off per gallon.  Their price at the time was five cents more than the place I actually got my gas,  It didn't really matter where I got my gas -- then.

Even armed with a coupon I decided to go to this new place, then drive back to my old place.  I wanted to be fuckin' done with it, but ... something else just compelled me not to charge my credit card Sunday, not yet.  My excuse was something that my brain kind of conjured up just to prevent me from filling up my tank: What happens if the price of gas drops Monday or Tuesday?  It's been at around $2.60 for some time now -- isn't that an indication that prices are going to go down?  Hey, didn't I hear that the benchmark price for crude has been going down?  That means the price of gas is going down too, right?

Sunday, my gas station has a price that's only, like, three cents more than the other place, so if I used the coupon, I'd save two cents.  But because I psyched myself out, I decide that I'm going to time the market and save money when the price of gas falls.  But I do need some gas, so I make this even more elaborate by going to a third gas station, probably the one closest to my house, to put exactly six bucks in my tank because I know that lately this gas station has had the lowest prices.  I need to maximize the bang for my buck!

Except that I didn't.  After Sunday Dinner I went to the gym, then downtown to see this group whose lead singer is an ex-stripper whose pussy I've seen.  I have a crush.  Anyway, the low fuel light went back on again as I was finding a spot downtown on the way to the club.  I did the same kind of trip tonight and I measured the total at about 35 miles.  So you mean to tell me that six bucks won't get me 35 miles??  I thought it did.

Anyhoo, today I put in seven bucks.  I fear that the price won't go down, that in fact it'll go up, but I just can't get my Visa above $500 yet, please, not yet.  And guess what?  It still wasn't enough to get me to where I was going today!  So after work and coffee, I went to the third gas station, the one with the lowest prices (by, like, two cents, in case you need to know) and wanted to put in eight bucks, but I stopped the pump at $8.03, so what the hell, I rounded it up to $9, then went home.  That should keep my car alright for tomorrow -- right?

Man, I've just fried my fuel pump by not refueling the past several days, haven't I?