The Weather Is Eating Us

The Fall showed up this weekend with fork in hand and said to me, "You know the drill. Lie Down so I can eat you, crap you out again, and mold you into a new person."

Being chewed by Fall's breezy teeth and then sliding down his sweatery throat is one of my favorite ways of being consumed. (I also don't mind becoming pure liquid in Summer's Cuisinart and then being tossed down like an energy drink before being shot out of his squishy pits and lower back.) And once you're in Falls' stomach, there's cocoa and some good books to read, maybe even spiced wine if you're lucky, and --not to mention -- Indigestion, a shriveled crone from Staten Island who can prattle on about nearly any old thing so long as he's got enough Tums Chewables.

Now, being crapped out by the Fall isn't always the best, but it brings back memories of what it was like to be formless at least! His hands are cold, crunchy, and made entirely of leaves, so when the Fall molds us back into a person -- straight out of the crap that we are -- it feels pretty great like exfoliating a bit with a brick to the face.

So, get back to me if you want to surprise the Fall sometime with something exciting, like a sprinkling of salt or going out for a beer, or jumping it from behind with chloroform.