It was so cold in Los Angeles, people were shaking like Lakers season ticket holders.

It was so cold, the Los Angeles Dodgers overpaid for a heater by $5 million.

It was so cold today teenage girls actually needed to wear Ugg boots.

It was so cold hipsters in coffee shops wore wool hats to keep their head warm.

It was so cold at Cal Tech the computer nerds were shaking like they were talking to a girl.

Complaining about the weather in Southern California is like sleeping with Megan Fox and complaining about her small thumbs.

The University of Arizona is offering a minor in hip hop. That will be great during the job interview. “I see that you minored in hip hop. So what did you major in? Unemployment?”

That is the educational equivalent of a neck tattoo.

The hip hop minor is also offered online so you can take the class in your parent’s basement where you’ll be living for the rest of your life.

Although it has been unseasonably cold here in California, you should see the local news coverage. They interrupted regularly scheduled programs to issue change-out-of-cargo-shorts-into-sweat-pants warnings.

Prostitutes in Brazil are learning English for the upcoming soccer World Cup. They are learning important phrases like “Welcome White House Secret Service,” and; “Should I put this on your tab, Mr. Charlie Sheen?” and “Welcome back President Clinton.”  

 Since you asked:

Did I ever tell you about one of my super powers? 

It is uncanny how I can come up with an obscure topic that will seriously upset and offend somebody. We’re not talking about obviously offensive topics, I mean obscure. It borders on the ESP-side of offending people.

One day, we’re having dinner with a good friend’s older brother and his girlfriend, whom I have never met before. In a lame attempt to make a clever joke I ask;

“I wonder if people with Tourette Syndrome and Dyslexia shout out Fother Mucker?”

Turns out this woman’s brother has Tourette’s and Dyslexia. Not only that, but she does charity work for both. This is the first and last time I ever said anything about Dyslexia and Tourette.

The other day I am chatting with the friendly grocery store clerk, Heather, who told me she is pregnant. While chatting about names, I commented on the recent trend of pain-in-the-ass parents who pick whacky names just to be original and then insist that the hard-to-pronounce name be pronounced correctly. 

Sure enough, the women in back of me goes off;

“Our heritage is Celtic (she pronounces it with the K, of course) and we picked Gaelic names for our children, Aoibhegréine and Uallachán (when she said them it sounded like she was clearing her throat) and anyone who mispronounces our children’s name is being rude and disrespectful to our family as well as our culture.” 

Did I mention a lot of people here in Carmel Valley are a pain-in-the-ass?