I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

Like right now.

The brain doesn't control the heart. Far too often, it's the other way around.

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Today I'm a little bit irritated with what I'll call foul-weather friends.

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Tomorrow is payday! Woohoo!

I think I want to get out of town again.

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Sunday I'm pretend-marrying HatGirl and LuckyFucker.

This guy at work thinks I should get myself ordained on the internet and then be really marrying them when they think I'm only pretending.

I think that would be both a very funny and a very mean thing to do.

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I'm not mean.

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I'd planned on taking lunch today, but I couldn't get away from this stupid system restore in time. Crap!

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Entries like this, composed of nothing but little snippets - they're a lot like Twitter, aren't they?

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I totally forgot, but I've got two bottles of the new Vertical Epic 08.08.08 in my fridge. I need to have one of them so I can review it.

Kinda one of those nights where all the stuff I want to write keeps getting censored before it gets even halfway out of my brain, way before it gets to my fingers.

It's very frustrating, having so many thoughts but having to somehow keep them straight in my head because I'm not allowed to write them here except in watered-down form.

One of the things I was thinking earlier today was that I'm not stupid. That I know exactly what this means to me, to us. I see what's happening, right now, in the unblinking LED of my phone. I know what's happening, it's just that I choose to pretend otherwise in an effort to protect what's left of myself.

I'm a great fucking pretender.

Just some stupid things to change the subject.

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Today is Wednesday, formerly also known as AlliDay. But now it's AlliLessDay.

AlliLessDay sucks.

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Today I've spent most of my time striving to shift my anger back to where it belongs - to myself. I'm the one who did the stupid things for the stupid reason.

Who cares that I didn't know it was stupid at the time?

It's certainly not her fault. It's all mine.

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I had Skyline for lunch today. I think they must have laced it with sleeping pills. I can't remember ever being so tired, except maybe last night at 8:00 or so.

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HatGirl wants me to pretend to be a preacher and pretend to marry her and LuckyFucker. That might be fun.

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Seriously, Miss. Don't come to the thing. Come and see me, that's fine. But if you're coming to the thing, then I won't be there. Please realize what a monumentally stupid idea you coming to the thing is.

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I guess that's it for now.

Opening that bottle of The Reverend now.

Looks like my email is down for a while, and the website itself seems kinda fucked.

Anyway, If you need to get in touch with me, you'd better call or text.

I'll update this when my email is fixed.

But don't hold your breath, because I don't even know what's wrong yet.

UPDATE 8:07: Seems to be working now. At least for the important people.

I think I'll go ahead and write this now, Monday evening. So I can still use the present tense. Using the past tense is going to suck. There's still a chance that this entry will go to waste. I would love to waste this entry. He will think it's hilarious, that I put all this effort into fiction.

My friend WomanRepellant is in the hospital. That's why he didn't call me Saturday morning like we'd arranged. He was in the hospital then, and he's in the hospital now, And he will never leave the hospital, except in a bag.

Because, you see, he is dying.

He. Is. Dying.

Present tense. That's important.

Don't even bother asking me why he's in the hospital. I won't tell you. It's probably none of your business, and I want to respect what privacy he has left regarding all this.

I went there today, to the hospital. I wasn't going to go, but LaptopGirl talked me into it. She was right, of course, but I still shouldn't have gone. Not as far as I went. Not all the way into that room.

I stood outside that room for what seemed like hours. I could see, through the window, some old man on the bed, his face turned away from the hallway in which I stood. Unconscious, thankfully. I wish I would have been.

It wasn't until I actually steeled myself enough to go into the room, and I saw his face, it wasn't until then that I was able to recognize that the old man dying in that bed was my friend. Up until that point, I could kinda pretend to myself that it was all some horrible mistake.

Is my friend. Fuck.

And now that is going to be the last image I have of him. Not sitting at the bar at Sluttopia a couple of weeks ago, laughing about something or other. Not any of the countless times we sat together at Rich O's and made fun of weirdoes and leered at pretty girls. Nope, as my last image of my friend I get to have him on his death bed.

So, I wanted to tell a little story. The story of how he got his nickname.

See, before the nickname WomanRepellant was chosen, I'd been having a very tough time coming up with a good nickname for him. I mean, he was rapidly becoming one of my best friends, but nothing I tried seemed right for him. I tried stupid nicknames like WhiteHairDude and a few others, but none of them worked. None of them fit.

Then, one day in August 2005, I was sitting at Rich O's talking with HatGirl. I'd only known HatGirl for a couple of weeks at that time. I didn't even know she had a boyfriend. I had already developed a major crush on her, and being able to sit and talk with her that day after work was a very pleasant surprise.

I wrote this, back then.

I was really having a hard time keeping from jumping into HatGirl's eyes and swimming around, but after a while this dude showed up and sat with us and HatGirl left pretty much immediately. Just a coincidence I'm sure. Not.

He thinks it's a very funny nickname. Much better than the ones I've given other people.

Present tense.

Had a quick meal with HatGirl this evening, after I left the hospital. We talked about our friend. She remembers that day as well. Funny how that one brief moment has forever tied the three of us together.

Also on the way home I bought a bottle of Avery The Reverend. It's one of his favorite beers, and one of mine as well. I'll save it. I'll save it until the present tense is no longer appropriate and then I'll pour two glasses, and then my friend WomanRepellant and I will drink it together. And raise a few toasts to the pretty girls.

Future tense. Even better.

Yesterday was the memorial for my nephew and his friends. Today was the anniversary of the accident. I guess I don't have a lot to say about that. Maybe it's all been said, or maybe I just don't have it in me.

But I'm so proud of my sister. Both of my sisters.

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Today I stood in a horrible place, outside a horrible room, and I talked to a beautiful girl. And she was almost enough to make me forget where I was, and why I was there.

NormalGirl and I may have fizzled before we had a chance to catch fire, and we may never spark again. But, damn, it was nice to see her. To be distracted for a little while.

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I've spent dozens, maybe hundreds of hours sitting on my swing and glaring at my phone. Trying to will it to ring. Tonight, I sat on my swing and willed my phone to stay silent.

The Cock & Bull was even more crowded that it had been earlier. I remembered that I'd never been in the place on a weekend, and I began to fear that they might have a stupid live band. That would have sucked.

I sat at the bar, ordered a bottle of OTR (72), and was almost immediately molested by some girl sitting next to me. I have never been pawed like that in my life - at least not while remaining fully-clothed. So, that was weird.

The emails and the text messages and the phone calls continued, and I continued to be amazed that my battery was lasting as well as it was. I guess I ended up spending about 1/2 of my time inside sitting at the bar getting molested, and the rest of the time I was outside talking on the phone.

WeirdGirl called just to say she misses me. Awww.

Here's a bit of advice to you women out there. If you ever find yourself needing to break through any resistance I might have, just lick my ear. Works every time.

Anyway, I ended up having three more OTRs (108). The bartender who looks like AlliGirl told me that they sometimes get OTR on tap. So I gave her my number so she could call me the next time that happens. I will definitely make the drive up there again.

I also had a glass of yummy Delirium Tremens (1404) so I could raise a toast to a friend of mine who's having a tough time these days.

At midnight or so, I somehow found some vestige of resolve, and I left GropingGirl with her friends. I walked down to the conveniently located White Castle, had some cheeseburgers, then went back to the hotel.

Then Sunday morning I drove home. It was nice to get away, if only for one night.

You know what's worse than screams?

He stays down there almost all of the time lately. Down in the dungeon of my mind. The doors are not locked. He's free to come and go as he pleases. But he seems to prefer it down there. Or, at least, he prefers the darkness to the light.

His screams were so loud. They cut straight through me.

I feel for him. I really do. After all, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. Faced with that which neither of us could survive alone, the two of us together somehow pulled through. An unbeatable team bound, for a while at least, by parallel goals.

To endure. To live. To persevere. To exist.

To wait.

His screams were so piercing, but at least they showed strength. A will to keep trying, to keep fighting. His screams reminded me of those long-ago days and nights when we screamed together in horrible harmony.

You know what's worse than screams?

All I hear now is soft sobbing. And it keeps getting softer.

The Cock & Bull was pretty crowded. Much more than it had been in April. I guess warm weather will do that to bars. Except Rich O's, for some reason.

My plan had been to just sit at the bar and drown my sorrows all night. I got a decent start, with a couple bottles of yummy Moerlein OTR (60), but by the time those were gone it was only 6:00 or so, and I recognized that I should probably go to some other places.

The first other place I went to was the Hofbrauhaus. I was there for about 1.7 seconds. There was extremely LOUD POLKA MUSIC and there was also not a single empty seat in the house - not even at the bar.

So I walked down the hill, and over the floodwall, to the Beer Sellar barge. While I was walking there, the stupid Sun came out from the clouds, and the weather went from very pleasant to unbearably fucking hot and humid. Plus, the stupid Beer Sellar didn't seem to have any air conditioning. Just a big fan that did nothing but stir the humid air around, so it felt like I was going swimming.

I was sweating like the proverbial whore in church.

I had myself a Paulaner Hefeweissbier (567) and then some Diet Cokes while I tried to acclimate myself to the humidity. Seriously, the place made me long for the old days I spent in New Orleans. This place was New Orleans with twice the humidity but thankfully none of the smell.

After my third Diet Coke or so, I realized that it was stupid to be there, so I drove back to the hotel, and then I walked back to the Cock & Bull.

My phone keeps ringing. I'll finish this later.