Frost on the Tomatoes, Elastic at the Ankles

Lx and Havok are back, half-packing for a road trip while the first hard frost creeps in like a rude Canadian ex. We rage about the death of real sweatpants (“If it doesn’t balloon out and swallow your shoes, it’s not sweatpants, it’s betrayal”), mourn the extinction of women’s pockets, worship rotary engines like the stoned genius inventions they are, swap 1970s skateboard scars, explain why 50-year mortgages are just slavery with better marketing, and confess our undying hatred for mushrooms (they squeak, they lie about tasting like chicken, they must be stopped).Also: chicken paws in soup stock, Rottweilers eating entire floors, the wife magically replacing wallets, and a solemn promise that the sweet potatoes are coming out of the ground whether they like it or not.Basically two dudes refusing to adult while the garden tries to die on us, peak Space Tomatoes energy.Grab your baggy pants, crank the volume, and come freeze your tomatoes off with us