Why in Bog's name am I still awake?

Jumpin' Jehosephat, Lost is a great show. It's like crack, or rather, being a straight arrow/lame kid from the suburbs, it's like I would imagine crack being. In addition to everything else, it had Daniel Dae Kim, and Bog knows American television as a whole is Daniel Dae Kim deficient.

Hello, Kitty/Pug Uglies
I had about seven different dreams last night. In one of them, Sam was a pug, Tyson's size but colored like Patrick. Before anyone reads into this any lessening of my hatred for all dogs who aren't Tyson or Patrick, note that puggy Sam bit me and in so doing drew blood. The real Sam hasn't drawn my blood with a bite since the 1980s. And besides, Tyson and Patrick aren't really dogs, anyway, they are dog-monsters.

I watched Empire of Dreams tonight. I love George Lucas. I could never get away with naming a son George Lucas Wilson, could I? Of course not; George Wilson is the Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace.

"Sailing, sailing, sailing the ocean blue..."

I'm enjoying Stephen Glass's The Fabulist so much I think I shall write my first "Book Report" about it. I like it, and there are some things I think need to be said about it.

I've resolved a minor but irritating problem in In Search of the Perfect Lesbian. Parker Peppard's girlfriend. Should Parker have a girlfriend? (Probably, since neither Pete nor Scipio do and it seems at least one of the boys should.) Who is this girl? A Canadian named Rachel? A Swiss miss named Sussi? No, my friends, to conquer the heart of Parker Ferdinand Peppard, only one sort of girl will do. Brandy McQuarters, a belle of Texas, tall and blonde and sweet, and smart enough to know she can't compete with Parker's affection for Mary Cannibal.

Prussia or Russia? Preview or review? Prevenge or revenge? Psalm or... salm?