Rats!

Wow. Summer is pretty much finito. Official countdown: 7 days. But I guess that doesn’t matter much out here in sun-drenched San Diego.

I feel for all you New Englanders though, I really do (insert stifled, bratty chuckle).

Even before I made like a tree and left Bean Town, some of the leaves had already opted for their autumn ensembles. And now, from what I see on weather.com, the summer warmth is beginning to wilt. And I’m sure every pair of New England butt cheeks are clenching with disinclination to acknowledge the imminent arrival of another cold, dreary, snow-filled winter (suckahs!).

Snowflake? Blizzard? Nor’easter? These words no longer hold meaning for me. These and all other winter related words have been excommunicated from my vocabulary. I am now a devout follower of Sunshinism.

Mmm that sounded pretty cult-like, didn’t it? I swear I haven’t joined a cult. I’m steering clear of the Kool-Aid and Nikes…pinky swear.

But if it’s any consolation, residing in the bushes behind my apartment, there is a pack of rats the size of taxi cabs (ran into the exterminator today). So that’s always delightful.

Then again, if gas prices continue to make like the number of Lindsay Lohan’s staggers into rehab, then the R.O.U.S's could be a potential solution. Saddle up ol’ Ratty and away you go!

Ew. Please no.