Why I Like Autumn

It's hot.
...
Quite hot.

This isn't the kind of heat you find mildly uncomfortable as you walk to your car but promptly forget about with the turn of the air conditioning dial.
It's not the kind of heat a glass of lemonade and an awkward floppy hat can solve.

I mock those naive souls.

This is oppressive, heavy heat that presses down on you like a fog, so solid you could jar it, so crippling it transforms even the most outdoors-inclined to liquified blobs steadily becoming one with the sofa. It gets under your skin, melts your brain and mutes your thoughts to the capability of an average insect.
Basically, it makes you feel like one great big sticky puddle of melted ice cream that seeps all down the sidewalk cracks and glues itself to the bottom of your shoe.

Ugh.

So to help break the monotony of my stir-crazy existence, I've been writing my autobiography with stick figures. It's quite entertaining, as it so happens, and really caters to my sophisticated art medium. Also, with any luck (and given that our mail delivery person isn't preoccupied sorting out their alter ego as an underground crime-fighting warlord), my ukulele should come tomorrow!

I should go outside at least for a bit before my body turns into a complete gelatinous mass of unused muscle.

So long, sleep tight, and drive home safely!
~Elizabeth

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE.
Speaking of frozen dairy deserts, today my mom and I ventured out to the Comfy Cow ice cream bar. A dull, jingling cow bell hangs above the door and a colorful blackboard over the counter proclaims an array of mouth-watering textures that made my eyes the size of saucers just to stare at. Man vs Food's very own Adam Richman took on their Comfy Cow Sundae challenge, fifteen monstrous scoops (around 5.5 pounds of sugar and brain freeze), and failed. Our choices were a bit more modest- peach for her and black raspberry chip for me, a heaping mound of dark, creamy deliciousness set magnificently astride the crunchy, flaky, chocolate-dipped cone.
Simply wondrous.