We had a very exciting celebrity sighting this weekend -- exciting for me, anyway, as the person in question has enflamed my loins for lo these few television seasons, particularly this one.

Saturday night, we hit Club Lingerie for a show by a band called Soft Supply -- basically, they cover power ballads by groups like Journey and Chicago, and they do it in costume and with real comedic earnestness. It's a very entertaining show, in large part because fans come dressed in era-appropriate gear. Sort of like a giant Halloween party without needing it to be October 31.

Anyway, as Lauren and two of our pals hung out near the front, I went in search of Doug, who had disappeared and apparently taken up residence in a booth while nursing his umpteenth beer. But as I sat next to him and watched the show from the back, my gaze drifted toward the bar, and I saw someone I recognized. After gulping for a second, I basically sprinted like a complete dork to the front of the bar. The conversation with Lauren went something like this:

We trotted back to the booth, threw ourselves into it, and stared at David Anders -- Evil, Sexy Sark from Alias -- as he ordered a drink. We suspect he saw us, largely because he turned his bright blue eyes onto us briefly, and later he threw us another gaze that we think was aimed at determining whether the psychos in the back booth were still undressing him with their eyes. (We were.)

In fact, I do believe last season I made a statement akin to, "Honestly, as awesome as it would be to see, like, Matt Damon around town, I think I'd really freak the fuck out if I saw Sark." Luckily, the fuck didn't completely freak out of me as a result of seeing him ordering a beer, but I was staring at him quite a bit, because... well, damn. He looked good.

I've long said that, as cool as it would be to see one of the Friends or big-name movie stars out and about in Los Angeles, some of the less universally recognizable celebrities would be way more exciting or amusing for me. For instance, I got way more jazzed when I saw Joe E. Tata -- He's Nat! He's from the Peach Pit! -- coming out of the supermarket than I was when Julia Roberts and Danny Moder-Roberts were standing in line in front of me at the post office. I flipped my shit when Victor Garber walked past me at the same supermarket, dressed in a suit and looking so classy and great, and I almost started drooling when Luke from Gilmore Girls smiled at in our direction the day my sister and I hung out on the Warner Bros. lot and watched them tape some Stars Hollow scenes, but when we saw Eric McCormack out to dinner with his wife and parents, Lauren and I were like, "Oh, that's nice. Where's our wine?"

Tiffani Thiessen in our Coffee Bean? Great! Hi, Tiffani. Oh, there's my chai latte, gotta run. But if I ever so much as spied a glimpse of the actress who played crazy, snobby, bitchy Felice Martin, I would call Jessica or Lauren or Carrie or my sister and scream into the phone as if she were the second coming of Shannen Doherty. And who among us wouldn't rather see crazy Dr. Kimberly Shaw or Dr. Michael Mancini from Melrose Place than insipid, now-stuck-in-a-successful-but-completely-crap sitcom Courtney Thorne-Smith?

Anyway. This wasn't supposed to be a laundry list of people I've seen in Hollywood, so I'll stop. I just wanted to make the following points: 1) I'm a dork for the C-list, 2) I am hot, hot, hot for Sark, especially with his new buzz cut, and 3) Felice Martin, if you're reading this, start frequenting the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on Beverly at Robertson.

Oh, and 4) Sark, if you're reading this, you're hot. Don't ever change. Except, get rid of the crappy breasted stick you were with, okay? She didn't look like a before-you-were-famous kind of girlfriend, but more like the kind of skank who figured out you were getting paid to act on a hit network show and made a beeline for your penis. That's crap. I mean, okay, sure, I didn't know who you were pre-Alias, either, but... come on, dump the skinny blond bitch -- I've already decided she's a bimbo ho, if that's okay with you -- and come douse the flames in my pants. Thanks.

As I haven't been updating regularly enough, I wanted to wait until the spirit moved me and inspiration struck and the greatest entry in the world flowed from my fingertips.

It hasn't happened. Obviously.

So, for the foreseeable future, I'm just going to write whatever comes to mind, in the hope of getting into the habit of updating at a respectable rate. Bear with me if that results in a few more entries that ramble.

Someone got here by searching for: helmet for slamball Hoping: To book a ticket home for Christmas sometime in the next week or two. Watching: Finding Nemo on DVD.