Two obsessions Southern Californians have that I really don’t understand:

1. Vanity plates.  I have no idea why people feel the need to advertise who they are or what they do or what kind of car they drive—the latter being the most asinine.  I’m looking at the mini-SUV thing and seeing the license plate that says “BMW X5.” Well, duh.  And do I really need to know that the person in front of me in traffic is a “TAX LWYR”?  Does that really make my life any more enriched?  What I’d really love to see is some guy cruising around in a giant Escalade all tricked out with the license plate “SML PNIS”.

2. Ranch dressing.  Ranch dressing goes on salad, that’s all.  Ranch dressing does not go with buffalo wings, blue cheese dressing does.  Ranch dressing does not go with French fries—oops, I’m sorry, freedom fries—ketchup or barbeque sauce does.  Ranch dressing does not go with bedroom antics, pudding does.