Along with less people and more swell, this is why I love fall http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/its-decorative-gourd-season-mother****ers
Emass - didn't you read it? "Grab a calendar and pull your f'ing heads out of your asses; it’s fall, f'er!" That bein said lovin the 70 degree water and get my new B Wynn this weekend
sorry bout that. try this http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/its-decorative-gourd-season-mother****ers
McSweeneys is hilarious. you ever read about the Cobra recruit having to sell cobra long distance and getting paid in cobra tshirts and always losing to GIJoe? sooooo funny http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/journal-of-a-new-cobra-recruit "I report to COBRA boot camp out in Utah in the middle of June. The recruiter guy said that everyone around there thinks it’s where some crazy old Mormon lives with all his wives. I’m not supposed to say anything about it to anyone. I’m supposed to tell Mom and Dad that I’m going off to work for the phone company." "Boot camp’s still a lot of fun. And I’m learning a lot. Today we did more mental learning stuff than exercise. We received a lecture about our main enemy, the G.I. Joe team. Seems that Uncle Sam is so nervous about COBRA that he set up an elite team of soldiers just to try to fight us. I couldn’t be more proud. I had no idea I was signing on with a bunch that was this important. I guess the Joes have stopped us at pretty much everything we’ve ever tried to do. But believe me, is that going to change now that Steve Loring is a member of COBRA!"
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/tendency not sure why the link misfires but you can try this one or just look on the site - text below but the curses are really quite important to this... I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some ****ing gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That **** is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker ****er, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is—****ing fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant ****ing squash. I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just blew through and ****ed that **** up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful ****ing gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply, “It’s fall, ****faces. You’re either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you’re not.” Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes—specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this **** just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely ****ing real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore. The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your ****ing heads out of your asses; it’s fall, ****ers. Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going to ****ing love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me. Consider yourself warned. For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy ****ing hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass *****-slapped all the way back to summer. Welcome to autumn, ****heads!
