"Nothing seems as strange as when the leaves begin to change." - Kid Rock
We're in that territory, guys. Summer is winding down. The sun is setting earlier. Leaves are turning. Chicks aren't wearing white pants anymore. It's awful and I hate everything about it.
But, as my dad told me the first time I got dumped by a girl, "Quit being a fucking pussy and move the fuck on." And that's what we have to do, boys. We have to get balls deep in fall and embrace the fuck out of all of its autumnal glory. "But dude, fall sucks. It's cold and I'm pale." Alright, listen up. Here is why fall is the shit.
I used to love tailgating. Like, LOVE IT. Then my mind, body, and soul started revolting. I had to take a step back and say, "Hey hot bro, you're not in college anymore. Stop day-drinking until you inevitably pass out with a dip in and Jimmy John's laying on your chest. Go to your house, watch the games in HD, get dumb-drunk on your couch, and place stupid bets on meaningless games until you have to return to your fucking job on Monday where you'll debate the under/over on the Monday Night Football game until the 5 o'clock bell rings."
Sounds miserable, right? WRONG. I don't care if it's Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, or Monday. If there are leaves on the ground and the sun is setting by 6pm, you know where I'll be - pounding beers on my couch while watching as much fucking football as possible.
I'm white and from Michigan. My friends look like a walking Orvis catalog. Fresh as fuck.
"No One's Looking" Territory
Over summer, you really get your pick of the litter when it comes to which babes you're gonna tag. But then the cold weather sets in, the bikinis and short shorts go away, and you're huddled in a bar with a bunch of chicks wearing infinity scarves and boots that cover their fucking knees. Rather than the normal summer target practice of heading to a beer tent and frat lapping until you see someone that tickles your fancy, you're left with the ugly ducklings that walk through the door of your local dive bar. That's when the "No One's Looking" rule comes into play and you have to lock down your not-so-dime-piece winter hook-up that you'll end up getting rid of once summer comes back and your social life starts to blossom again. Should anyone be proud of hooking up with a sub-bar broad when no one's looking? No, but fuck it, it's fall.
Farms, bro. FARMS.
"What? Like, chickens and shit?" No, you fucking numbskull. I'm talkin' pumpkins, hard cider, and fucking squash rockets. There's no better excuse than "it was cold outside" to head to your nearest farm establishment, get sneaky drunk on hard cider, and buy some pumpkins that you'll probably never carve and end up throwing away as they rot in the middle of November on your porch.
Have a token rich friend with a farmhouse? Awesome - that friend is probably loaded and has a bunch of guns, clays, and 6-wheeled Jeeps to tool around in. If you know what I'm talking about, then I have ZERO idea why you're reading this and not doing that RIGHT NOW.
Wikipedia defines Indian Summer as "a heat wave that occurs in the autumn. It refers to a period of above-normal temperatures, accompanied by dry and hazy conditions, usually after there has been a killing frost." I define Indian Summer as "Guys, grab the beers - WE GETTIN' DRUNK OUTSIDE."
And the beauty of embracing fall early is that it makes the inevitable Indian Summer even better. It's like you're playing with house money when that post-Labor Day heatwave hits and you're straight 'laxin on the beach mid-September. It's that one last bone God throws you before he slaps you in the face with Polar Vortexes and any month between February and May.
Life is a vicious cycle, guys. But as we learned in 4th grade, it's survival of the fittest and you have to adapt. That being said, it's the second to last Friday of summer and it's 79 degrees outside. Let's go find some biscuits wearing white pants.
Need more convincing that fall is the bomb.com? Read my favorite article ever, It's Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers.