But when it does, Conan O’Brien shows a pretty close approximation of what happens next:

Hat tip: LAist.

I rode my bike roughly 86 miles between Wednesday’s 46 mile ride and Saturday’s 40 mile ride. Saturday also featured some ridiculously high surf. Click the link to See my ever-so-fun iPhone video of it (still trying to figure out a way to do embeddable flash without sticking it on YouTube Edit: Aha! Flickr does short videos):

I think it came out well, although it does motivate me to try and acquire a copy of the iMovie version with the image stabilizer software…

Southern California has ben beset by wild temperature swings in the last week. Last Monday I was in my poorly-insulated apartment, battling a nighttime low in the high 40′s while bundled under layers of blankets with Chaplin curled up next to me for warmth.

Seven days later, it’s 11am, and my little weather program is telling me that it’s currently 93 degrees in Santa Monica, a temperature I generally do not see until late August, if at all.

I at least have the option of wandering around the apartment in a tank top and shorts, jumping in the pool if necessary. Chaplin is a bit more miserable, and is in the process of going back and forth between a) sleeping in the coolest places he can find and b) attempting to shed his entire coat.

I’d take this opportunity to at least be able to kill the pilot light on my heater, except the low for sunday is forecast to be 53 degrees. Whee!

What the fuck is going on with the weather out West? First it snows six inches in Antelope Valley (just north of Los Angeles) this morning, then I see this:

That’s the big fake Pharoah at the Luxor. In fucking LAS VEGAS. Yes, that’s right, folks, Las Vegas got six inches of snow today, too.

I first heard about this when Joel told me his trip had been cancelled because his co-workers got stranded in a snowstorm in Vegas. The Vegas airport owns neither a snowplow nor a de-icer, so they called him at O’Hare to say, “Yeah, don’t get on the plane.”

Seriously, this is just ridiculous. I’ve had one big shoot that keeps getting cancelled because of weather, and at the rate things are going with both that shoot and the overall weather, the next cancellation is going to be because it’s raining blood.

Today’s forecast was partly cloudy, 0% chance of rain, as it normally is between mid-March and late October in Southern California.

I thought it was weird enough when I looked out the window around noon, and there was a freak rainstorm downtown with raindrops so large that I thought it was hailing.

But out in the Inland Empire (L.A.’s multitudinous eastern suburbs), it got a little hairier:

That’s a fairly unusual sight for SoCal, and it seems a slightly ominous portent. I’m just hoping I don’t look out tomorrow and see locusts.

I think because I’m so tired I’m finding everything funny…

Earlier tonight, a tornado went right over the headquarters of the National Weather Service, which, among many many other things, tracks tornadoes and tries to predict where they’re going to go.

That must have been a fun realization: “Steve, how’s that twister you’re tracking?”

“Uh…RUN!”

I wonder if the NWS is like the White House, where there’s an entire underground bunker that allows the place to continue to function in the event of an emergency.

That’d kind of suck if they were unable to track the tornado that was coming for your quiet Arkansas town since they were too busy…well, running for their lives.

Again, I have no idea why this entire scenario I’ve constructed in my head makes me giggle, but it does. I need sleep.