I think if you die and then come back as a zombie you should probably just take Halloween off, because nobody would take you seriously, and if people weren't running away from you it would be no fun at all.

The same advice would apply if you got turned into a vampire somehow.

The jungle envelopes him, claws at him. He doesn't know where he's going anymore. There is no sense of direction. There is - nothing at all except the sound of the twigs snapping under his feet and the rustling as his trail heals itself behind him. Even the sound of the ocean has become lost in the past.

He runs, as well as he can through the thick brush. Something is following him, some thing has been following him since he left the beach. And it's gaining on him.

I found out today that, for some unknown reason, I've never rated Delirium Tremens at ratebeer.com. I just corrected this injustice:

Delirium Tremens

(draft) My desert island beer. I only wish I could drink more than a couple without going into a coma. The ultimate Belgian as far as I'm concerned.

Another thing about this beer - when I tell the bartender at Rich O's that I'd like a Tremens, he invariably asks, "Delirium Tremens?"

Like there's any other.

I didn't plan to do anything last night except just have the game on in the basement while I shot some pool.

That way I could say I'd watched the stupid thing without being a complete liar.

At one point, however, I went to the store to gas up my truck (so I wouldn't have to do it this morning) and when I left the gas station I just reflexively headed to Rich O's.

Actually Rich O's was closed, it being Sunday and all, but its sister-business Sportstime Pizza was open so I went there.

Football really pisses me off. It preempts my regularly scheduled programming. It always runs late. It's boring.

And it makes otherwise normal people into obnoxious drunken idiots.

I ended up sitting at Sportstime with NotGeorge while I had a Gulden Draak and a Tunnel Vision. Every time somebody on TV would do something people would start jumping up and high-fiving (fiveing?) each other like they were the ones that had just done whatever it was.

Only NotGeorge, red-blooded male that he is, was able to pull his attention away from the TV long enough to pay proper homage to SmolderingHotGirl who was sitting a few tables away. She was with people we were assuming were her parents and her daughter, but now I realize that it could have been her parents and her sister, in which case NotGeorge and I might both be going to hell.

I bet it's all Bud and Miller there.

I guess the theme of tonight - at least the theme of the conversations we had tonight - was what the fuck does/did she see in him?

Not very original, I know. This question has been pondered since the dawn of time, and will continue to be pondered at least until the Sun expands 93,000,000 miles and turns our little planet into charcoal.

Original or not, there it was. The Big Question.

What the fuck does ExtremelyHotGirl see in ShavedHeadFatFucker? What the fuck does KindaCuteGirl see in ClearlyGayGuy?

What the fuck did you-know-who see in FullOfHimselfDude, or in NaiveAndCluelessGuy?

These questions will probably never be answered.

Tonight was a fairly typical night at Rich O's, highlighted only by a little paranoia on my part that proved to be unfounded.

To drink, I had a Rogue Smoke, a Delirium Tremens, and an NABC Tunnel Vision. Nothing new for me, thanks anyway. All are excellent beers. The Tremens, in particular, is just fantastic.

The first half of the night I spent talking with MusicalHippyDude and the guy who I think is the singer in their band. The second half of the night I spent talking with one of LaptopGirl's ex-boyfriends. The cool one, for those keeping score at home.

ElPresidente is turning 40 this Monday. This revelation only served to remind me of my own impending birthday, just two weeks away. I'm not depressed about this milestone at all, but I am irritated by it. There was a lot of stuff that was supposed to have happened by now that, I fear, will never happen as I slide down the other side of this hill I'm about to crest.

I have more to say, but I'm going to hold off. It's this new "restraint" thing I've been working on.

(PS, 020805: I fucking hate typos. I just corrected one in this entry that had sat for nearly three days. If you hate typos as much as I do, please point them out to me so I can correct them as soon as possible.)

"Watch this, CoffeeDude. I bet I can get that girl to come sit with us."

CoffeeDude took a look at the girl at the bar, then took a look at me, then took another look at the girl at the bar, and then gave a little chuckle. "Go for it." CoffeeDude was skeptical.

He was more skeptical when I began flailing my arms and calling out "Hey you!" trying to get her attention.

He was the skepticism king of the universe when, having failed to lure her gaze with my flailing and hey-youing, I wadded up a napkin and threw it at her head.

Hey, girls like that stuff, right?

Right?

Well my aerial bombardment did indeed get her attention, as I'd known it would, and I patted the couch and told her that a seat was available. She got up and made her way over.

We couldn't very well turn CoffeeDude loose upon the world, thinking he'd discovered a new secret of chick-magnetism, throwing stuff at all the women he encountered, so after enjoying a couple of seconds of being CoffeeDude's hero, I introduced him to my sister Dina.

Dina's fiancé was out enjoying a boys night out so she came to Rich O's to have a couple of beers with her older brother. Awwww.

Other than this little bit of rarity, it was a pretty tame night. We all sat in the living room area and talked. I had a Gulden Draak and a Delirium Tremens. I introduced Dina to NABC Tunnel Vision, and she seemed to like it.

Also, I guess the place where my uncle and cousin have been doing karaoke has decided to stop for a while, so unless they get another gig somewhere I'll be going straight home from Rich O's.

That's what I did last night.

Somebody actually typed this into Google and got led to my site:

Can a Monkey come out the wood to surprised a human person to be seen standing in front of a human person then he will take the human person in his Monkey jungle to force the human person to change the human person to a Monkey animal?

Well I certainly hope they get their question answered somewhere. Then, I hope they take a class on grammar and punctuation.

It's sitting there now, in the middle of the room. I'd convinced myself that I'd driven it away, but as soon as I let my attention wander, as soon as I let my mind drift from all these trivial distractions, there it was. As hairy and smelly and ugly as ever.

I'm going to have to deal with this brute eventually. The other night I got right in its face and ordered it the fuck out of my house. Showed it the door. Gave it its walking papers.

It just sneered at me.

I wasn't going to get rid of it that easily.

The cats have been following me around the house all night.

I've been trying to figure out what they want.

Litterbox Clean: Check.

Food and Fresh Water: Check.

All Inside Doors Open: Check.

That's about all I can think of.

As I type this, Happy is laying on the floor right behind my chair, Buddy is on the bookshelf, and Nugget has stationed himself at the door to my office. All three are watching me type, like they're waiting for something.

Or plotting something.

I suppose they could be sensing my mood, the way Happy did, years ago, when I learned of my grandmother's death and he jumped into my lap before I could even hang the phone up, but neither of my other cats have ever behaved this way before, so I don't know what's going on.

It's actually creeping me out a little. Maybe we're going to have an earthquake or something. Maybe I'm about to drop dead.

Maybe I'm just paranoid.