Bring some change up to the bridge, bring some alcoholThere we'll make our final wish, just before the fall

I wasn't going to write anything today.

Tough day.

Yet, here I am.

Eating some chicken.

Listening to the Foo Fighters, Still, on a loop.

It is from their last album, In Your Honor. They did one disc acoustic and one disc rock.

Still is on the acoustic side.

It is a fantastic, haunting song. There are a few real gems on that album.

Dude highly recommends it.

(Want a copy? Email me. joemilitello33@yahoo.com I owe some music karma. Stacey, one of my favorite bloggers, just sent me a few discs.)

There was this guy at the gym today.

He was unbelievably buffed.

Of course, he had cut the sleeves and so much material from his shirt that it was a shirt in name only.

He spent a lot of time checking himself out.

When he went to do situps, he dragged the sit-up bench in front of the mirror, so that with each crunch, he could check his bad self out.

He started with his arms folded across his chest, but that was obscuring his view.

So he put his arms behind his head, the better to check out his flexed biceps and flared lats.

I had a hard time not laughing.

It even inspired me to make a up a new phrase...

That guy was worshipping at the Altar of Me.

-

I had a horrible nightmare the other night.

It really freaked me out.

Bells, Quagmire and I were somewhere in Montana.

Bells knew of this spot, a lake.

It was surrounded by huge, 200 foot cliffs.

Supposedly, it was a prime site for cliff diving.

We were standing at the top.

I don't know if you have ever dived (dove? both feel wrong... any grammar nuts pleas comment and let me know) off of a large cliff, be it a quarry or an ocean, but it is always scary... I don't give a shit who you are.

I have done it in Maine, off of a 35 foot cliff (about 3 stories).

I also did it outside of the Dam at Miller's Quarry. Some of you may know that spot.

Additionally, I have gone off olympic high dives at USC, and a couple other places.

I always do a swan dive, and a couple times a one-and-a-half, but, trust me, I am always scared.

So, Bells, Quagmire and I are standing on this cliff.

We are probably 100 feet up, like 8 stories.

Bells, who in the dream had been there before, dove first.

Contrary to what happens in real life cliff-diving situations, Bells dove out a little too far, too close to some rocks that were out in the lake.

I commented to Quagmire, "Dude, he almost dove too far. That is dangerous as hell. Be careful."

Quagmire said OK and then dove.

But, unlike Bells, he didn't go far enough.

He swan dived out, gracefully, and dropped like 40 feet, then clipped an outcropping.

Hard.

He rag-dolled down and slammed into the rocks, arms, legs and other things clearly broken and flopping unnaturally as he cartwheeled out of my sight for a moment, coming to rest on some rocks below.

I started to panic.

I know CPR, and I knew he was probably dead, but I couldn't just stand there.

I thought about climbing down to him, but this was a sheer cliff.

There was no way I could get down to him.

I had to dive, then climb back up.

Of course, I was out of my mind.

I have known Bells and Quagmire since I was about 13 years old.

These are my closest friends in the world.

One of them is very, very, very badly injured, and we are in the middle of nowhere.

No cell phone coverage, and anyway, no chopper in the world could get here in time.

So, I dove, freaking about my own safety.

I woke up when I hit the water.

It was 4:47 a.m.

My sheets were soaked and my heart was beating about 160 bpm.

I didn't go back to sleep.

Craig?

This Christmas?

We're both wearing helmets, and I am not taking you anywhere crazy, dude.

I need you alive so you can write me Ambien scripts so I don't have dreams like these.