The Island Isn't Done With You Yet

Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.

This weekend, the Lost auction will take place somewhere in California

Going through the catalogue is like taking a stroll down memory lane. Besides including basically every costume (some are helpfully labeled as "heavily distressed"), you can bid on pretty much every single thing you have ever seen on the show.

And I kind of want everything. So many things I want, and yet I can afford none of them. It's like being in a Zegna store.

For instance, you can buy the squirrel baby. THE SQUIRREL BABY. That's right. This means no more foraging for pelts, trying to find a way to make a homemade squirrel baby. That's at least an extra hour of sleep a night for me.

Some of these things also look like bargains. I mean, an estimated $600-$800 for a Rolex? Sold. And how about Virgin Mary statutes full of, um, "horse?" And even if you don't like "horse," you can turn around and sell the horse at a horse market, which is pretty easy to do. So I hear. In a magazine. That a friend read. Anyway, you can also buy the hatch, which is pretty awesome.

Or how about stuff to put in the apartment? Like Jeremy Bentham's coffin. At the very least, you have a hell of a conversation starter. True, any woman you have up for a drink is likely to immediately remember a morning meeting upon walking in and seeing a coffin in the living room, even after you explain that the dead bald guy is not in there anymore.

But what if she stays? What if she stays? Then you ask her if she wants some wine, and of course she'll say yes, and then you'll pull out Jacob's metaphoric wine bottle, and if you can't close with that, then maybe you shouldn't really be attempting to reproduce. And at that point you might as well go for broke and casually break out the handcuffs that chained together Kate and Juliet when they were wrestling in the mud and man, are you going to have a story for the guys tomorrow.

Yes, I'm single, why do you ask?