Okay, yes, I actually did say out loud in public on Friday night, “You know how some people are scared of things that are supposed to be happy and pleasant, like clowns?  Well, I’m scared of golf pants.”

Then again, later that night, I answered my phone as I usually do at night ("bonus nachos”—get it?  Buenos noches?  Bonus nachos?… I’m priceless) and exercised my power of suggestion over one of my friends, who said about two minutes later, “Damn, when we get to the bar, I want a pitcher of beer and some nachos.”

And now, the rant:  Putting on your turn signal does not guarantee you entry into someone’s lane.  I was in the right lane on the 101 freeway today and a car pulled up next to me about 1/3 of a car-length in front of me, and the driver put on her turn signal to get into my lane.  Great, there was a small space in front of me and about 3 car-lengths of open space behind me.  So I hit the gas, passed her to let her get in behind me, then got off at the next exit.  The woman actually got off the freeway, then pulled up next to me at the stoplight and rolled down her window to ask me if I’d seen her turn signal!  I swear, this is one of those days when I need a rocket launcher mounted on the roof of my car.