Earlier today I was driving behind a truck with one of those "How's my driving?" stickers posted on it. Underneath the sticker, of course, was a phone number so that people can call. I decided that I'd like one of these stickers so that people in cars behind mine can initiate conversations about my driving. That's because I'm an idiot and I think that most of the cars on the road have good drivers inside them...

Speaking of idiots, I've been tempted to call one of those dandelion-elimination companies I keep seeing commercials for on television. You know, the ones that sell some high-powered product that actually kills -- yes, kills -- all the dandelions on a lawn. My question is, are dandelions really that hard to kill without one of these products? I'm no powerhouse, but give me a few minutes to rip one out of the grass and I will do it like a real champion. In fact, rather than paying a company to do it, or buying a product, I think I might open my own solo business where I will come to people's houses and start ripping out dandelions like there was no tomorrow...

And if there is a tomorrow, then I'm really in luck because that means that I can keep ripping out dandelions and charging people money for it...

Eventually, I wonder if there will ever come a time when it is officially noted that tomorrow doesn't exist. At first that would be scary: most people would run all over trying to do things one final time, and saying goodbye to everyone before it is too late. I, on the other hand, would take at least an hour to make as many dinner reservations for tomorrow as possible. What's the worst that could happen? There is a tomorrow after all and I have to end up eating a lot of meals. I can deal with that...

I think we'll truly know there is no tomorrow when pop radio stations stop turning rock songs into dance tracks. This usually happens on the weekends, where I can't surf the airwaves without hearing a great song butchered by an added drumbeat and a changed tempo. The worst is that there is no safe song, it seems -- anything can be turned into dance. Until now. Here is a song I'd like to record for the sole reason of knowing it will never turn into a dance track or be played at proms:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, so this song stinks.

But it will never be a dance song.

Seriously, if you are listening to this and it's dance,

You will instantly die.

This is no joke.

This better not be a dance song right now,

Or you will die.

And so will everyone else.

It's a little sad, but the message is clear. That's the same statement I made about writing a book with ice cubes...

But I digress.