Ba-boom. Autumn. Kazowy. Kerplonka. Zwip, zwip, kazinga. That is how fall has arrived. 28 degrees one day, 18 the next. Goodbye summer. Nice knowing ya. Smell ya later.
I'm in the sort of mood today where you go into the bathroom at work, and even though you have to pee really bad, you still take a second to stick your face really close to the mirror, tilt your head back, open your eyes wide and stick out your teeth like you are a vampire. You know what I mean. Then hunch over you computer in your little back corner at work and giggle about it. Then eye that open bag of trail mix you bought from the drugstore with unsalted peanuts that must have been swept out of abandoned squirrel nests and fake Siberian smarties made with "chokolat" and you wonder if you really are desperate enough to try eating them again. You decide, nope, but don't throw them out because you never know when some stale peanuts and raisins will come in handy. What if those squirrels mutate and grow 28 stories tall and demand offerings? You are always thinking one step ahead. You congratulate yourself with a handful of trail mix.
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