Oh, the sweet, delicious taste of irony.  Of course, we all know that there are three types of irony:  verbal, dramatic, and situational.  I guess that (because I described irony as tasting delicious) I'll add a fourth type of irony:  cupcake.  Oh, and a fifth:  Alanis Morrisette.

Today, we get a little lesson in situational irony.  There was sadness and shock in Anderson, Indiana today when a dog named "Lassie" saved her octogenarian owners by waking them up when their house was on fire.  The dog, sadly enough, died in the fire--evidently going back into the house to save her dog treats or something.  Oh, and in case you were wondering:  YES, Lassie was a collie--which brings up my point.

If you have adopted a collie and you feel the need to name her Lassie, you simply must be expecting that the dog will one day save you from something.  If it didn't, then you would be disappointed by the dog not living up to the high standards of its fictional namesake (whose eponymous TV show ironically enough appears in my "Favorite TV shows" as a show I don't want to watch....).  Of course, if you lived your life without accidentally falling into a well or without running yourself over with a tractor, then maybe you don't have a need for a collie named "Lassie," anyway.

Did the real-world Lassie steal the idea of running into a burning building to save her owners?  I mean, I don't think that's a Lassie-specific instinct that would have been hard-coded into her collie DNA.  That wasn't Lassie's gig (unless she saved some horses from a barn fire, once upon a time).  I think the "dog in the burning building" bit was really perfected by Benji.

Benji.....man, was that a good dog!

It's like 10,000 spoons on your cigarette break....

Top 5 fictional dogs:
1) Ralph the Dog
2) Triumph the Insult Comic Dog
3) Benji
4) Spud MacKenzie
5) Dalmation #72

How many are in a set?  No really....I want to know.

While there are people who contemplate the meaning of life, the existence of God, the value of money, the quantifiability of Matt Rees' gayness, etc., I have spent most of my formative years contemplating how many are in a set.

Last week, I was out with a friend for lunch.  On our way out of the restaurant, I grabbed 4 Starlight mints (which are delicious), and offered her 2.  But she only wanted 1.  I was left in a quandry because I choose to consume candy, chips, pretzels, and most other forms of snack food in even quantities.  By her choosing to take only one mint, I was forced to have 3 in my posession.  And so I brought up my eternal question.

She replied, "4." 

To wit:
A television set, consists of just 1 television.
A set of dishes is usually service for 8.
A set in tennis is the first player to 6 games (7 on tie-breakers).
A chess set consists of two groups of 16 pieces.
The mathematical "empty set" consists of the null solution, which is the zero solution.  It has no elements.
A set of real numbers is infinitely dense.

Yawn.....

I had a crazy dream, and it shook me from my yearly winter slumber.  I learned a valuable lesson today:  When you come out of hibernation, make sure it's warmer than it was when you took all that Vicodin and passed out on a pile of tequila bottles.

According to my super-awesome (and soon to be trendy) inside/outside thermometer (digital, of course), it's a brisk 14.6 degrees Fahrenheit at the present moment.  Outside....that is.

Oh yeah, back to my dream.  So, there I was--all hopped up on tryptophan after Thanksgiving dinner--when I made my annual decision to skip winter while still observing Christmas.  "All the presents; half the scarves."  But I guess it wasn't meant to be this year.  Mild winter interfered with my system and woke me up early.  And I'm another lucky recipient of the less-than-pleasant arctic blast running through the area.

I'd blame Canada, but I can't blame them for wanting to send the weather somewhere else.

And to think....the real reason I'm yawning is because of the Super Bowl.

By the way, when did Prince become a cover band?  (Which reminds me....I have a bunch of concerts to write about.)

Next time, we'll try to be more coherent.

Okay, let me get right to the punchline:  I'm not a big fan of vanity license plates.  Frankly, I think they're kind of stupid.  Unless you're a law-abiding driver who never switches lanes or speeds, it seems to me that you're better off accepting license plates with random letters and numbers.

I've considered getting vanity plates in the past.  When I bought my TT, I thought about plates that said "TT" or "MY TT," but I realized that my friends would make fun of me for at least 20 years and that the car already said TT on the back anyway.  Also, I planned on speeding.

Maybe, there is the rare occurrence when it's okay to get a vanity plate:  like, for example, if you have a really expensive sportscar, and you get vanity plates with the model of your car (i.e. "911" or "DB9" or "MODENA").  But even that is sort of a double-dose of ego, and maybe a little bit of overkill.

The other day, I was driving behind a car with "XSWMSWF" on its license plate.  At first, I thought it was a strange combination of letters for the state to issue.  Then, I realized that it was on purpose.  Evidently, the plate has something to do with crossing a single white male with a single white female.  But what could it mean?

a) Is it a reference to the person's match-making business?
b) Is it a reference to how the car's owner met his/her spouse?
c) Is it a referendum in favor of single-race couples?
d) Is it a referendum against bi-racial children?
e) Is it an ad for the upcoming movie "Single White Female 2: The Boys Next Door?"

I guess the most important thing, if you're so moved to spell out vanity tags, is that other drivers have to be able to "get" it, and it's helpful if there's humor involved.  In the end, if you really have something important to say, you can probably do so more effectively with a bumper sticker.  It offers you more space to spell words correctly and to get across your pro/anti Jesus viewpoint and your kid's status as a member/non-member of the Honor Roll.

Okay.....for the 3 of you who read my blog (2 by accident), I give you "The Blog Entry that No One Will Even Care About."

Today, FC Toronto, the newest addition to Major League Soccer, will choose 10 players from the league's other 12 teams.  They can choose only one player from each team, and each team was allowed to protect 11 current roster players.

Anyway, approximately 19 people NOT employed by MLS actually care about this draft.  I am not even one of them--for the most part, at least.  Anyway, I'm going to guess the 10 players Toronto chooses.  If I get even one pick correct, I should be hired by an MLS team.  If I get more than 4 picks correct, an MLS team needs to hire me to work in the front office--regardless of how poorly these players play, if they play at all.

FC Toronto's 2006 MLS Expansion Draft:
Nate Jacqua, Chicago Fire
Jovan Kirovski, Colorado Rapids
Chris Gbandi, FC Dallas
Nick Rimando, DC United
Adrian Serioux, Houston Dynamo
Matt Groenwald, Kansas City Wizards
Kyle Martino, Los Angeles Galaxy
Avery John, New England Revolution
Danny O'Rourke, New York Red Bulls
Andy Williams, Real Salt Lake

And when I look at my picks, I realize:  this isn't a bad MLS team.

I'm on a bit of a Formula 50 kick this week.  (I think I've had 4.)  That's some good drinkin'.  First of all, it's delicious.  Secondly, nutritious.  Thirdly, the bottle is hilarious.

It got me thinking:  What are my favorite (manufactured) beverages (i.e. not orange juice, which grows on trees)?

Current favorites:
Coke
Snapple's Mango Madness
Honest Tea's Peach Oo-la-Long
Vitamin Water's Formula 50
Ginger Ale

Oh yeah, and Jaegermeister.  But I drink that only on Sundays.

From the Formula 50 bottle:
"50 cent's new album as bound to go platinum, so formula 50 decided to go platinum too.  not to be outdone, we are happy to announce the release of our own album 'hydrate or die tryin'.'  all we need is one little shout out at the MTV video awards and bam!, sukkaz be movin' out the way at them beverage conferences.  plus, our drink has the nutrients you need to fuel you through your day.  that's just how we roll here in queens."

After sitting through 9 hours of driving and four quarters of football, I'd like to comment on Penn State vs. Temple University.

1) "Wow! It's, like, convertible weather in November!"  Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were beautiful in the Washington, DC area.  When Poda and I set out from my apartment at 10:30, I wished I had caved in and bought a Boxster last month.  Karma is a bitch, though.  The closer we got to State College the more ominous the scene looked.  The first rain shower--which lasted for the time it took us to drive from the western side of State College to the eastern side of State College--dropped the temperature 10 degrees.  It then rained for most of the game.

2) "Prohibited items are not allowed inside the stadium."  I'm an idiot for not hiding my umbrella inside my jacket sleeve.  Anyway, they wouldn't let me bring it into the stadium--as if I was going to open it during the game.  So, I placed my favorite umbrella by a column outside the stadium.  And either the asshole usher threw it out or another enterprising fan took it.  Either way, I'll find you, dick.  That umbrella has the name of my employer on it.  And they don't employ anyone in the commonwealth of Pennsyvania.

3) Temple sucks at football.  Sure, temple is a great place to spend Rosh Hashana.  But breaking down the walls of Jericho doesn't necessarily translate to football.  (Editor's note:  We know that Joshua fighting the Battle of Jericho has nothing to do with Rosh Hashana.)  Please stop inflating a mediocre Penn State team's ego by losing 47-0, in a game that was never even that close.

4) "We parked in the field, by the motor home."  The last time I went to Penn State, I had 3 trees and a barn as my land markers for where I had parked.  This time, I was even less fortunate.  Using a motor home, which is movable and commonplace, as a marker is kind of sad.  Remembering which field we're parked in is kind of hard otherwise.

5) "My sports car goes almost 47 miles per hour!"  It took over 2 hours go go the first 20 miles.  Once I was able to escape bumper-to-bumper traffic, I took off.  We stopped for 10 minutes for some gas and something to eat.  The remainder of the trip (counting sandwich break) was 190 miles in 2.5 hours, or 76 miles per hour.  I would like to challenge all of you to drive across PA route 322 in the rain at night going 80 miles per hour.  Actually, don't.

6) "Nothing lasts forever--even cold November Rain."  DC was dry when I got back.  It's raining now.  But that's immaterial--I'm not in the car anymore.

In 1999 or 2000, at the height of the boy band craze, SPIN magazine put out an issue with a cover article entitled "What the world needs now is Axl Rose."  At the time, I thought it was the most poignant piece of music journalism to come out since Robert Spuhler predicted that Tribe Called Quest would join the pantheon of hip-hop royalty.  I think I had the SPIN cover hanging on my wall for two years.  I probably still have it somewhere....

Anyway, today, on ABCnews.com, a World News webcast article claims that Axl Rose might possibly be the voice of an entire generation.

http://abcnews.go.com/WNT/print?id=2622568

I hope that this article isn't attempting to turn "Sweet Child of Mine" into a 1980's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light."  However, I tend to agree with the general point this journalist is putting forward, and I had never given considerable thought to whether or not I could answer the question, "Where do we go?"

I think it's worth noting that Appetite for Destruction--a brilliant album that functions almost as a concept album--ends with the following (from Rocket Queen):

"Don't ever leave me.
Say you'll always be there.
All I ever wanted
Was for you
To know that I care."

Since I didn't go trick-or-treating, I didn't get any Halloween candy.  I did request that several people bring me some candy.  In this endeavor, I have achieved mixed results.  Luckily, some of my co-workers brought in candy. 

And I'd like to file a complaint:

Almond Joy is terrible.  Please replace your Almond Joy stash with Snickers or Milky Ways.  They're way better.  I think my Halloween is officially ruined.

-----

A little Halloween party redux:

Bonus points to people who came in coordinated costumes:  Thing 1 & Thing 2; Ron Burgundy & Veronica Corningstone; Jessica & Ashley Simpson. 

Special shout-out goes to the girl who dressed as Ashley Simpson becaue she's waaaay better looking than the real Ashley Simpson--even the new, improved fixed-nose-and-all Ashley Simpson.

Second special shout-out goes to Roller-Girl.  Few girls would dress up as a porn character.  Even fewer would/could wear skates the whole night.  With Roller-Girl, "the skates never come off."  Plus, I could crack a walnut with her amazing legs--probably from all those years of skating.

Third special shout-out goes to my friend who dressed up like a gay cowboy stripper--in an attempt to get the attention of the girl who dressed up as Roller-Girl.  He attracted interest from Ashley Simpson and from Roller-Girl.  I'm glad I brought my own girls to the party.

Fourth (and final) special shout-out goes to me for owning an in-the-package angel costume, which came in handy when one girl showed up at my apartment without a costume.  I'm going to have to stock sluttier costumes in the future.