Blog-tober!

I've decided to take on the task of writing out 31 postings - one for each day - in dedication of my favourite month; October.

[Pardon the title.]

Why is it my favourite? Well, really.. why not?!

The summer months, while plenty of fun-in-the-sun, are never a productive time for me. It's too hot most of the time, and anyone who knows me has probably witnessed that I sweat too much in every moment of it. I become preoccupied by constantly wanting to cool my balls off in pools, and beers are cracked from the end of work until long after reasonable adult-people have shuffled off on: "I have to get up in the morning."

...And then I'm not just sweaty, but all kinds of gross tomorrow, and the next day, and so on after that; like a less-intelligent, but just-as-invisible Fernando Pessoa.. or some lecherous Frankenstein-type?! Exactly when pretty, skinny legs everywhere are poking out of summer skirts and distracting me to no end.

Dancing becomes unbearable.

A lot of meaningful plans get made; but no meaningful work.


The fall, by contrast, is still pretty drunk; but less disgustingly-so. I actually sleep sometimes! I get to wear layers and jackets, and look totally rad in browns and navies! I can listen to a song like 'Last Supper' by My Bloody Valentine (one of their earlier, more goth-y and organ-based tracks), walk around in a park kicking leaves and feel like the deepest, most distant and brooding-est dude ever; rather easily.

I rent more movies, and eat butternut squash soup.

October was made for introverted losers like me (if I can still lay claim to this ilk?). Like the noble squirrel, folks just want to gather their nuts and make a home before it snows. And I'm no different. It's easier to focus on whatever I want.


Yesterday, one of my favourite blog writers posted that he'd be quitting his daily web grind in a few months; in February, when he turns 50 years old.

Though I would never pretend to be as word-wise or art-and-pop world savvy as IMOMUS - who is well deserving of all the professor-ly arrogance he (or anyone) can afford - nor aspire to write in his style or topic (in fact, I'm mostly an idiot, or interested in dressing up ideas in idiot's robes); I do enjoy the crap out of everything he does (except his music!). He is crazy productive, in all months and seasons; and that's something to respect.

So, then... here's a go. (I'll be satisfied if I reach 5!)