you're wrong. it's stomp the yard.

fall's back baby. like a classic rock band reunion tour that miraculously doesn't suck, fall returns with an unprecedented gusto and a fist full of awesome to smack us all around with. thank you sir, may i have another. seriously kids, fall injects a heaping pile of punk rock into our lives the way wilford brimley shoots genius into otherwise mediocre films (i.e. - ewoks: the battle for endor). spec-freakin'-tacular. fall, if it wanted to, could have saved disco. it could have made indiana jones and the kingdom of the crystal skull into a movie that didn't make me want to drive my car off a bridge holding a live puma. it could make black licorice actually taste good. it could probably cure prostate cancer if it felt like it. instead, fall makes just about everything else better.

i.e.:

starbucks. it's impossible not to feel gay when ordering anything at starbucks. try to feel like a man while ording a venti nonfat iced vanilla chai latte (i just started singing a song from rent while typing that). can't be done. slap a little fall on it though: pumpkin spice latte. bam. i don't care if you paint my car rainbow now, just hook me up with an i.v. of this crack-infused coffee drink and put a little wham on the stereo. wake me up before you go go!

weather. don't get me wrong, i love basting in a marinade of my own sweat and filth from the moment i step out of the shower till the moment i get back in as much as the next guy. 95 degrees/95% humidity isn't all that bad if you're the kind of dude who loves to lose 5 pounds just by walking outside to get the paper. that, however, is not how fall rolls. slap a little fall on it though: sunny with a high of 73. bam. bust out that hoodie and just leave those shorts on, mister. you're a master of fashion and as comfortable as a baby buried neck deep in puppies.

television. shark week was a month ago and i just came down off of that high. now i'm searching for something to fill that shark week on discovery channel-shaped void in my life. i've seen every episode of m.a.s.h. i can't handle all the shows about loggers and truckers that history and discovery are shoving down my throat. oh where, oh where is my quality television programming? what's that? slap a little fall on it? BAM. THE NEW SEASON OF MAN VS. WILD. hallelujah, my friends. just last night i watched this thoroughbred of a human being pimp smack the chihuahua desert in Texas like it wasn't no thing. last week he manhandled vietnam like it was nineteen seventy... uh... oh wait... we lost that war. um... man vs. wild totally rules.

sports. football. the world series. the return of hockey. thank you fall. thank you. thank you. thank you.

beer. yeah, i said it. i live one mile from the arguably the most cutting-edge craft brewery in the united states and i've come to appreciate their vast array of delicious fermented beverages. each has its own distinct characteristics coupled with subtle hints of flavors that guarantee set one's palate waltzing. slap a little fall on it? dogfish head punkin ale. bam. spicy. sweet. hoppy. smooth. euphoric. like autumn in a bottle. like finding a 20 in your winter jacket. like square dancing with gary coleman in a top hat on a mississippi river boat. beautiful.



ah yes my friends. celebrate with me, if you will, this season of seasons. because before we know if, we'll all be freezing our respective 'nads off.




listen to:
"gold country" by chuck ragan. makes me want to go prospectin' or shoot someone over a claim or respect a woman (like my momma taught me).

watch:
man vs. wild. can't say it enough.

can't stop checking out:
my 97 subaru outback. her name's shelby woo, and she's as sexy as the day is long. woo, you do your thang, girl!

hip hop gangster shoutout to:
dan and kc irvin. assignment wasn't the same without L.P. and the dominator.