Just two things about tonight's Lost episode.

1. That chick was hot.

2. Being buried alive would suck.

This is just a short story about Saturday night. I'm only writing it because I'm waiting for Lost to get tivoed.

Anyway, I was driving from Louisville over to Rich O's. I was on I-265, going maybe 60 or so, and a black Trans Am flew by me. He must have been going at least 90.

He also had a taillight out.

So, to quickly review: He was going at least 90, on a Saturday night, in a Trans Am, with a taillight out.

Brilliant, right? I mean, except for the burned-out taillight, which wasn't brilliant at all.

At the exit for Grant Line road, TransAmDude and I both got stuck at the light. I was in the right turn lane, he was in the other lane.

I looked over at his car. The window was down. It was a warm night.

So I rolled down my own window, and I hollered over at him, "Hey! You've got a taillight out!"

'Cause I'm a good Samaritan and shit.

The guy looked over at me and kinda shook his head or something, like maybe he couldn't hear me.

So I hollered even louder, "YOU'VE GOT A TAILLIGHT OUT!"

The light turned green, and TransAmDude gave me the finger and yelled, "Fuck off!" and drove away.

Wouldn't giving someone the finger and telling them to fuck off, wouldn't that be redundant?

Just trying to get this out of the way so I can get some fucking sleep.

LaKisha: She was very wavery. Is that a word? It should be, because that's what she was. (65 points)

Chris S: A decent job, but he didn't sound like the Chris I'm used to hearing: (60 points)

Gina: Great song. Great performance. Take the title from LaKisha's wavery grasp and give it to Gina. Do it now! (100 points)

Sanjaya: I didn't listen because he sucks. I did, however, take off eighteen billion points for the stupid hairstyle. (negative 18,000,000,000 points)

Haley: Stupid song. Performance was way too timid. Nice voice, but I didn't care. Her hair looked great though. (70 points)

Phil: Wow, pretty damn good. I get the feeling that he's been singing this song for years. His best performance, by far. (90 points)

Melinda: Some song I never heard of. Fantastic job. She chose to sing this week instead of growl. Good choice. (95 points)

Blake: A good, but boring, performance. Very safe. The judges all want to fellate him. (70 points)

Jordin: Stupid song. Awkward performance. Yuck. (40 points)

Chris R: Great song. Performance was very good at times, and dreadfully flat at others, disappointing overall. (45 points)

I'm easily amused. Found this at kottke.org.

This is the type of fame for which Nugget is destined. I'm sure of it.

Brown. Her eyes are brown.

That wouldn't have been my guess.

I'd have guessed hazel.

This first one was a week ago Friday. I was with NotHideousGirl and I tried on her glasses. So this blurry images is probably what she saw when she looked at me. Both because she'd been drinking and because I had her glasses on.

This one we took this past Friday night. I then sent it to HatGirl, hoping that it would inspire her to show up and give me someone who didn't hate all men to talk to. My plan didn't work.

Friday, I was in the best mood. I'd had the most amazing dream.

It was some kind of lavish party at the home of one of the PBDs. People were scattered around in their little cliques. I found myself wandering from group to group. Never really fitting in. Always trying to join conversations too late. I'd just arrived at the party, and I was already looking for an escape.

There were some guys out in the field. I didn't recognize them. They were towing people around behind a motorcycle. Not for anyone else's enjoyment, but for their own sick fun. The people who'd already been towed were in a bloody group off to the side, shaking and sobbing.

The motorcycle guys asked me if I wanted to be towed. They laughed amongst themselves. I shook my head and I flipped them off and I moved away.

Then I saw her.

I froze.

She was talking to some people I didn't know. She'd just arrived herself. I overheard her say that she was going to go see what the motorcycle guys were up to, and I saw her turn in their direction. In my direction.

She saw me, and she smiled.

I grabbed her arm, and I told her what the motorcycle guys were doing. I asked her to stay away from them, to stay with me.

She smiled again, and she took my hand, and we went back into the house and got some beer.

We sat together on the floor in the corner of the basement. For hours and hours we touched and we whispered and we leaned against each other as we watched all of the PBDs making drunken fools out of themselves. We were the way we used to be, only better. We were the way we might have been, if only.

If only.

As the night wore on the injured people had been making their ways from the field to the house. She thanked me for saving her from a terrible night, and I thanked her for saving me from a meaningless life.

I never really knew what had happened, or even how I found out about it. The dream started too late for those details to be revealed.

There were hundreds of people there. Mostly strangers to me. People from her new life, I figured. Except for some of her friends from Rich O's, I didn't know anyone.

But they all knew me. Or they knew about me. When I opened the door, they went completely silent.

I'd arrived late, like I always do in my dreams. But the crowd moved aside for me. They turned their back on me. Not from disrespect, but to give me the privacy that they knew I needed. Like prisoners turning their backs while their cellmates take a shit. Or so I've heard.

I couldn't believe it. I stood in the doorway, and I estimated the distance. About twenty yards. Maybe thirty paces. Thirty paces, and it would all be over.

So I dropped to my hands and knees, and I crawled. I needed it to hurt, and I needed to make it last as long as possible. Delay the inevitable as long as I could.

Plus, down on the floor like that, I couldn't see. Just the carpet in front of me, and the backs of the people around me. And, when I was stupid and forgetful, when I raised my eyes, a wooden box on a platform draped in red.

When I reached the coffin, I tried to make myself wake up. I tried very hard to make myself wake up. But it didn't work. So I lied down on the floor, and I wept and I waited for the dream to end on its own.

My sister came up behind me, and stroked my hair, and said soothing words. And, when I was ready, she helped me get to my feet. I stood up, and I looked into the coffin.

She was as beautiful as ever. So peaceful. I envied her.

I completely forgot!

But then I just now remembered!

Friday, I was sitting in the HR Block office waiting for my tax appointment, and SassyGirl called!

Yay!

She and JauntyGirl are doing fine. They're somewhere down South. Maybe Georgia? And they're walking The Appalachian Trail.

Also SassyGirl told me that she'd shaved her head and that, since her nickname was born because of her hair, that I should come up with a new nickname for her.

I told her that I'd think about it.

It was good to hear from her.

I hate how I've been putting off my beer reports lately. I've been putting them off for so long that I never get around to writing them. And then if I do decide to write them, they end up being a gazillion lines long.

Like this one will probably be. Oh well, can't be helped. I need these things to keep track of my own comings and goings. Like I don't have a fucking clue what I did last Saturday night.

Let's see. Friday night I went to this stupid Mac's place again to listen to NotHideousGirl sing karaoke. I had a couple Newcastles (3944) and a couple Blue Moons (448). All were good, but they were about the only things good about the night. I couldn't hear NotHideousGirl sing at all. I don't know if it was her, or if it was the noise in the place, or if it was the karaoke sound system being messed-up. I could hear the other singers, the ones who sucked, just fine though. So it was probably that NotHideousGirl sang too softly.

Then the entire night started to take on a sour note because women are weird and often mean. Plus, WeirdGirl started drunk-dialing me. The calls started out angry and, over the course of about a half-dozen calls, ended up being sad. Since the situation at Mac's had been rapidly deteriorating for an hour or so anyway, I left there and went to talk to WeirdGirl. I think we're okay now. She'd been hearing rumors and making assumptions. I straightened her out. The truth didn't exactly make her happy, but it wasn't nearly as bad as what she'd been thinking.

Anyway.

Saturday evening my friend Eric called to see what I was doing. It was his birthday, and he figured he'd be out later. So that was cool. It promised to distract me from the panic attack I was having, wondering if MixedSignalGirl was going to call about her CD.

I left home at about 6:00, and went over to Louisville. I went to The Pub and had a Newcastle (3964) and some cold fries and nuclear-hot chicken tenders. The place was really packed, and I got claustrophobic, so I didn't stay. I stopped by Hard Rock and talked to CoolHairGirl for a few seconds, but that place was packed with kids, so I went to Rich O's at 8:00 or so.

I was in a pretty shitty mood until I got to Rich O's. My mood got a lot better when I saw that TeamHotness was sitting out front. They always make a big deal out of seeing me because I'm so awesome.

Rich O's proper was full of mostly strangers, but the throne was open so I sat there and ordered an Urthel Samaranth Quadrium (56). I love that beer. Tried to talk to some of the weird people around me, but I didn't really have any luck until this one hot girl came in and sat on the arm of the loveseat. Our proximity pretty much required that we talk, so we did. I'll call her BBCGirl. She's nice.

At about the time I started my third Quadrium (76) things started happening at a rapid pace. OddlyFamiliarGirl came in and I talked to her for a bit. I also, as promised, put in a good word for Roger to her. I think my exact words were, "Roger says to put in a good word for him if I see you so, Yay Roger!"

I made sure to raise my hands in the air to add emphasis.

OddlyFamiliarGirl confessed to reading my journal, so that was weird. Hi, OddlyFamiliarGirl!

Then TeamHotness came into Rich O's proper and crammed in next to me and, for half of the team, on top of me. I really like those two, and I wish they'd come in more often.

Then, surprise!

HatGirl!

Yay!

She was a little grouchy because of the crowd I guess, but grouchy HatGirl is still a zillion times better than no HatGirl. LuckyFucker was with her of course, and this time he seemed to be the one in a decent mood. Wonders never cease. We three stood in the middle of the room for a bit, but when a couple of strangers finally left the sofa we moved back to that area. Then TeamHotness came in again and reminded me that I'm awesome.

Then my friend Eric showed up, and I made everyone sing Happy Birthday to him. I don't think he cried, but I'm sure he thought it was a nice thing to do.

There were no more seats available in the living room area, so Eric and I went up and sat at the island. HatGirl joined us there, and we just talked about various fluff for the next hour or so. Once HatGirl and LuckyFucker left, WomanRepellant joined us for a while.

I ended up drinking the rest of HatGirl's Quadrium (82). I think it was too strong for her. But, Yay for free beer!

Eventually, WomanRepellant left. Everyone left actually. Eric and I stayed and talked until the bartender kicked us out. Then I went to White Castle and then came home.

When I got home, I was still excited that I'd got to see HatGirl, so that's what the previous entry was for. Just letting off some extra steam.