Rest in Peace Summer, you won't be missed
Now don't get me wrong, I love summer. Summer means skimpy outfits and outdoor beer gardens and explosives disguised as "patriotic devices," but I'm so very happy that it, like Madonna's career, has officially begun its slow march of death.
Bring on Fall, take summer out back and finish it off like Barbaro.
Hurrah for Fall, when the temperature finally loosens its grip after four long months of bending us over and sticking that sweat rod called humidity in our fudge-icicle maker.
As a fat guy, there is nothing worse than the summer, because you sweat when you do anything.
And I mean anything.
Take out the trash – and it smells better than you.
Peel an orange with your hands – it tastes like salty butt.
Walk to the bank at the end of the block – die of dehydration.
I walked 1.5 blocks to pick up a pizza the other night (because I'm cheap and wasn't payin' no dollar fiddy for delivery) and when I got there, the pizza guy asked me if I had just come from the gym.
Seriously.
What makes it worse is that I possess an above-average amount of body hair.
Not like "oh mommy, why is that man working out in a sweater," but somewhere along the lines of a chia pet after week one.
So after working up a good sweat, say getting the mail, I come home and take off my shirt only to see a wet dog in the mirror.
Kate is a lucky woman, I tell you what.
Fall brings cooler temperatures and I spend less on deodorant. Hurrah!
Bring on Fall!
Fall also means an end to hurricane season, which I care about only because the Society to get Politically Diverse Names that Weinerize a Destructive Force has really jumped the shark this year.
Look, this is not that hard. Give hurricanes names that inspire fear, they do after all bring death and destruction, not lollipops and thinking-of-you cards.
Ok, if your boat is in your house, your house is in your neighbor's yard and the only thing you can find from your car is that damn "Coexist" sticker with the freakin' symbols on it … you can take solace in the fact that at least the thing that did this was named Spike or Jawbreaker or Tex.
"Well, we dun lost evri-thang, that hurricane Bitch-Slap really bin livin' up to id's name, thad's fer sure."
But no, we get Ike, Hanna and Gustav.
At least Katrina had that hard edge to it, like a Russian assassin "cuminkg to keel you."
I am just waiting for the day when they start letting celebrity baby names influence this decision.
Coming up after the break, hurricane Coco strikes land with tropical storms Anais and Starshine waiting in the Caribbean.
The only thing worse is people who play Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon and connect everything to the hurricanes.
"Man, traffic is bad today … that hurricane Gustav is really wreaking havoc on Pittsburgh."
OK, but perhaps we should also consider that it's you braking for yellow lights and squirrels and shiny things in the sidewalk that is doing it. Maybe? Ya Think?
"Jeez, I'm really winded … that hurricane Hanna is really getting to me."
Sure, sure it could be that or it could be the donut holes and Yoo-Hoo you've called breakfast for the last 8 days in a row. Just, ya know, if we're throwing out ideas.
"May, these hurricanes have really upset my kitty-wittys, they are just cranky."
Yeah, it's hurricanes, or the fact that you dress them in little outfits, make them perform fashion shows and call them your children, either or.
Please, bring on Fall. Bring back football and chili. Bring back a reason not to go outside, ever.
Fall means the return of good sports, namely football and baseball games that actually matter.
It means that we have survived the looooong seasons dominated by basketball and the dregs of baseball season and will be handsomely rewarded with large men pounding each other into the grass (-like surface) for pleasure and profit.
Bring back the stadiums around the country filled with overweight, beer-guzzling idiots who are sure this is their (team's) year, despite the fact that their chances of winning are up there with me completing a marathon.
BRING BACK FALL!!!!
I'm sorry, I got a little overwhelmed there and now I'm sweating … again.
Stupid hurricanes.