Owen Wilson just flew by me down Second Avenue on his trusty bicycle, his adorable dirty hair feathered back, his shirttails flapping, his nose not as freakishly prominent as it sometimes becomes in the proximity of Wes Anderson. The bazillions of stalker sightings we've gotten in the last week of Owen, always on his bike, suggest that perhaps he is on some bizarre biking marathon around New York? (Yesterday: "Owen Wilson almost ran me over on his baby blue beach cruiser"; the day before: "I saw Owen Wilson riding his bike west on Prince St crossing through the intersection of Broadway.") Perhaps someone is holding his brother Luke hostage and demanding that his bike not slow below 20 mph, like some Us Weekly version of "Speed 4"? In any event: SOMEONE PLEASE BUY OWEN WILSON A HELMET. I've always wanted to see inside his crazy head but not literally and his lack of respect for cabs during lane changes is stunning.