"Hit the B Square" took me a while to figure out- I remember thinking it was probably a not-as-fun version of Four Square. My favorite is courtesy of an old friend: A warm weekend day, our late teens, rural Wisconsin roads, on a joyride that made me feel I was experiencing the epitome of Dean Moriarty's laughably selfishness at the focus in going up from it all, all he could grab, and knowing that his- and only his- rush back down with whatever he used to get up there was worthy of the landing he was gonna claim as his next forgotten triumph, cos, fuck it- he's on top right now, riding everything else down for sake of the glory in the explicit rush while the pieces take the blunt idea and tepid elasticity some Scotsmen call frozen sheep shit like he was counting on you to stick well enough to not bring him down complaining about the impact, and so he knew you'd be a good return on his toting your impeachable limp grasp of idealseeking due to idealseeping-- hence your inability to be weaned from your disgusting hesitation to vanquish your wonder and laugh--laugh like some needs-to-be-fabled child would laugh- with her own fear facing a buzzsaw that was lacking discernment- and fall on enough of her sword to smite only the necessary infrastructure for standing firm ground, yet doubly exacting by leaving enough of your sentience to marinade in your pathetic new-found memory, and taste that for as long as it didn't even really fucking matter anymore-- for Dino had the truth-- or at least that feeling of having it, that's all that mattered in the end... just those Dane County Hwys, loud music from good speakers- worthy of a memory only because of Christopher's emphatic: "I wish that I was Jessie's Girl!" TL/you didn't miss anything.