Good Work, Levi's.

Seeing that I haven't blogged in over a month, I'm going to keep this one simple and in list format (kind of). My recent trend of hooded sweatshirt wearing and pumpkin beer hunting means it's probably about time for my annual Fall blog, consisting of the best and worst parts of the standout season (although we all know that summer will always dominate the head-to-head battle). Because I'm neglecting to look back at last year's blog, there's no doubt I'm going to tread over some old thoughts. I don't mind being repetitive, though, and there will always be unavoidable holdovers from year to year. Also, I'm aware that Simmons recently wrote a "Why October Is Great" article; however, I had the idea first, so I'm calling dibs. Justin's probably the only one that would raise a fuss anyway. You know, because he's a crybaby. So, without further ado . . .

Fall means new jeans. I beat the hell out of my jeans from bike riding, mountain climbing, tomato gardening, hang gliding, buck hunting, moped fixing, and bare-knuckle street-fighting, among my other typical Summer activities. Anyway, it appeared as if Levi's had dropped the ball and fucked their 511s fit way up. One size was too small, the next size up was too big. This pair had four pockets, this pair had twelve. It was a disaster. I've been wearing Levi's for the past decade and had both my size and fit down. So, I panicked and bought some Marc Jacobs jeans. That's right, you heard me. I'm a fancy fuck now (not really because they cost like 80 bucks). I am happy to say, though, that Levi's recently came out with a Fall collection and got their shit straight and returned to form. I can only assume this was a result of me bitching about the altered fit every time I went into a Levi's store. So, those of you who are hopelessly devoted to the 511 skinny jean, you're welcome.

Fall means a sports orgasm. October is simultaneously overloaded with the baseball playoffs and football. The two best sports in bed together in the same month. It's like late Saturday night Cinemax programming. *I did go further (much further) with this analogy, but then opted to delete it. Probably the wise move.*

Fall means pumpkin beer. Already mentioned in the introduction, pumpkin beer has become a fixation (maybe a vice) of mine over the last few years. If I see a variety I've never had before, I always buy it. When Winter porters begin usurping shelf space, I hoard the shit like a hobo hoards pop cans. It's my elixir and makes me invincible.

Fall means empty bike lanes. I get some sort of sick enjoyment out of riding my bike through the blistering Chicago cold. In the summer, the Milwaukee Avenue bike lanes are teeming with shorts and tanktops perched upon fixed gears, but once sub-50 degree weather hits, the lanes thin out and the hardcore cyclists are the only ones left. Nothing better than pulling up next to a fellow insane person in ten-degree weather, nodding your head, and saying, "Fuck, it's cold."

Fall means bonfires. Is there anything better than sitting in a camping chair, drinking Budweiser out of a can, and flicking finished cigarettes into a raging bonfire? If I could bottle the scent of bonfires, I'd call it "Autumn," sell it to suckers like Kenny and Russ, and make a bajillion dollars. I can't wait for my late October camping trip with the posse (minus a couple), so that I can drench my hooded sweatshirts in the bonfire smell and purposely not wash them for the rest of the season.

Fall means darkness at 4:30 PM. One thing I miss about Cincinnati is that it's on the edge of the eastern time zone, resulting in a later sundown time. Here in Chicago, though, the sun gives us the middle finger around 4:15 or 4:30 PM. Given, that's during the heart of winter, but there's nothing worse (or more depressing) than when fall starts hitting and you notice the day shrinking. Ugh. I hate walking out of work and into the dark.

Fall means Halloween. Chock-full of haunted houses, dressed up buffoons, and copious amounts of candy shoved in your face, Halloween is the best holiday of the year. Plus, I've become obsessed with tracking down the guerrilla Halloween costume outlets that pop up in vacant storefronts around the city. It's the perfect business model. Fill a store with a bunch of campy, hideous holiday shit and when it's gone, it's fucking gone. No restocking and practically no cleaning up. Have you ever been in one of those places on October 30? It's the damn apocalypse. A delightful disaster of desperate vagabonds running around in a bleak, desolate wasteland of clown wigs, vampire teeth, and fake blood. Absolutely terrifying.

Fall means more blogs from yours truly. I've been massively disappointed with my general lack of recent blog production. To be completely honest, I haven't been able to find any time. I'm a busy bee during the warm weather seasons because I gotsta to keep up my appearances and shit (not really). Anyway, with fall comes the security of fearing the cold, wind, and premature darkness and just packing it in for the evening. The results? I'll spend a shit ton less money and be able to post up one of these gems on a weekly basis, regardless of length. That's my new goal, and I sure as fuck plan on following through. I wouldn't dare deprive the public (or Justin) any longer from my words of wisdom.