Can you name all of the minor league / semi-pro sports teams in Bakersfield? Check out this Podcast by The Californian's sports department for a lively debate on how much Bakersfield can handle. And take this quiz:

Match the team with the sport:

1) Blaze
2) Blitz
3) Brigade
4) Jam
5) Condors
6) Bakersfield Rollergirls
7) Dusters

A) Hockey
B) Basketball
C) Soccer
D) Arena football
E) Roller derby
F) Baseball
G) My dream for a female tackle football team

Answers: 1) F, 2) D, 3) C, 4) B, 5) A, 6) E, 7) G

So I saw a billboard on SB 99 yesterday on the way to the Cal Spas store that made me go, "huh?" I didn't get it.

It was a picture of a road through the front windshield of a car. The text reads "Are you driving without a license because you don't pay child support?" There was no other text; no fine print saying who is sponsoring the sign. Why would someone post that question? What does it mean?

Is it supposed to make child support shirkers change their minds? Is it an angry ex-wife aiming this question to one particular man? How does not having a drivers license help someone not pay child support?

I Googled "child support driver's license" and it seems that in many states people who don't pay mandated child support get their licenses suspended or revoked. Do we have that here in California?

I guess that could work; but more so I see people just driving without their licenses. I guess that's what the billboard is aimed at: to make those people think twice before skipping on paying child support, or about driving without their licenses.

Check out this voicemail from my friend. She really is in love with this car!

So my mom wants to sell her '69 Fastback Ford Mustang. I offered to try to sell it here in Bakersfield for her, since I figured this would be a good market. Bakersfield likes its muscle cars, right? But now that the car is at my house, I can't stop looking at it! I drove it up the driveway and even that was fun! I'm having fantasies of driving it to the lake and making out with my sweetie. And taking it for ice cream. And going cruising up Chester (by myself, since no one does that anymore).

But, alas, I don't have the $$ to buy it from my mother. So I will have to part with it at some point. She bought the shell of the car many years ago when she wanted to recapture her youth. When she was a teenager, she had a '69 Mach 1. It was orange with a black racing strip up the middle. Over the years, she has sunk a lot of money into getting this car restored. She finally showed it in the Kool April Nights car show in Redding two years ago.

She's selling it now because she is unloading her life and starting anew. She sold her house, much of her belongings, and now she is traveling the West Coast looking for a new place to land. I'm excited for her. What freedom she has!

But I'm also sad she's selling this car.

Here's the info in case anyone knows anyone who wants to give this car a good, loving home:

1969 Mustang Fastback, 351 Windsor, new rear air shocks, glasspacks (exhaust), radiator, Crager mags, black upholstery/dash/headliner, CD player with two box speakers, trunk liner.  $18,000.

I've heard in the news that the post-Atkins nation is experiencing a meat glut. So what does Burger King do? Invent the BK Quad Stacker. Yep, FOUR patties of meat and four slices of cheese. This has to be American gluttony at its worst (or best). Where's PETA when you need them? Or, better yet, where's the Little People of America complaining about the derogation of their commercial actors. "GET THIS MEAT OFF ME!" The short statured foreman yells when a giant patty lands on his legs. It's like watching a sick nightmare.

I just don't get it. This burger is disgusting on so many fronts.

OK, so maybe I'm behind the times with this one. But since I just returned from the San Juan Islands off of Washington, where I witnessed a group of about 30 orcas swimming right in front of our bed and breakfast, I figured this is worth sharing.

They are beautiful animals -- even when they are landing on you.

http://www.youtube.com/watc...

This is hilarious! But if you're watching at work, wear your headphones and cover your mouth to mask your guffaws.

http://www.dashes.com/anil/...

I'm back from Seattle, and what a wonderful trip. I fell in love with the city. It's very much like my other favorite city, San Francisco, except it's clean, has far fewer homeless people and doesn't smell like urine on every corner.

Among the many adventures were daily trips to Starbucks.

Day One: Emerged from the hotel and walked to a Starbucks just blocks from the Space Needle. With the famous structure in the background, I ordered a grande cafe au lait (coffee with steamed milk). Yum! Then we went to the Experience Music Project museum, an international beer fest in the park and a Mariner's game that night.

Day Two: Drove to the city's central shopping district and ordered a grande cafe au lait (I love coffee with milk) before buying a super cute bathing suit at Macy's. Then we headed north to Bellingham, where we caught a ferry nearby to Lummi Island.

Day Three through Six: Forget Starbucks, give me the French roast with milk at the Willows Inn bed and breakfast on the island!!! Plus, yummy breakfasts of scrambled eggs, toast topped with egg and ham, spinach frittata, potatoes with dahl, sliced fruit and the best scones I've ever had in my life.

Day Seven: Back to reality, back to Starbucks. And here's where reality hits: Already cranky from waking up at 5 a.m. to get to the airport, I decided to order a cold drink near our gate. The cold version of my cafe au lait is called an iced cafe con leche. So I order a grande cafe con leche. (That's pronounced cah-FAY cone LAY-chay.) "A what?" the so-called barista asked. "A grande cafe con leche," I said again. "A cafe con leechee?" he said. "No, con leche, it's Spanish for milk. It's right there on your menu."

He turned around along with his two co-workers. For a moment the three of them stood there scratching their heads and squinting at the huge menu right in front of them. "It's there on the bottom, under 'Coffee,'" I said. One girl got it. Good for her. She started my drink while the other two looked back at me quizically.

The first barista goes to ring me up. "So, should I just charge you for two shots and milk?" he asked. "No," by this point I am laughing at his stupidity and so are the other people waiting in the lengthening line. "It's $2.10. It's right there on your menu. Ca-FAY cone LAY-chay," I say really slowly.

He turns to the look at the menu, points to the bottom of it and says "This?" "Yes!" "Oh, how did that get up there? I didn't even know that was there."

So even in Seattle, the birthplace of Starbucks, all is not heavenly.

Back in Bakersfield, I went to Dagny's yesterday morning for coffee. Being so recently burned, I asked for a grande coffee with half of the cup filled with warm milk. "Oh, you want a cafe au lait?" the barista asked. "Yes! That's exactly what I want. Thank you."

Even though I loved Seattle, I'm glad to be home.