Autumn is the beautiful mask under which winter sneaks into our lives. That mask will be removed tomorrow, and the white monster beneath will be exposed. We'll know its presence as it waits at our windows and silently knocks upon our doors, ready with its icy fingers poised to chill us to the bone.

Most keep Old Man Winter at bay with thick coats, raised thermostats, and hot beverages. Bundled in artificial insulation, people rush to their warmed cars as they leave their heated homes and journey to furnaced shopping malls. Clothes, cars, malls - all of these things cost money. Keeping warm, it turns out, is a very expensive task.

Warmth costs so much, in fact, that one could attend many buffets with the cash they'd otherwise spend on oil and gloves. This winter, therefore, I've decided to do away with heating the air around me and covering myself with extra clothing; instead, I'm going to insulate myself with 100% me-made natural insulation - by Packing it On.

Packing it On is probably healthy and more than likely greener than burning oil (dead dinosaurs), wood (dead trees), or fossil fuels (farts). It's also hella-tastier and super easy to accomplish because you get to do all your favorite things that involve sitting, plus the added bonus of eating whatever you want. I've outlined the steps involved in case you too are interested in taking part in what I have just coined as the Greatest Money Saving Scheme of the Ages: Packing it On.

The Three Easy Steps to Pack it On:

1. A good diet is the first essential step in Packing it On; carbs, fat, and other sloppy/greasy things are all a great starting point. Be sure to keep it up, though - any slippage will only result in a cold, miserable winter. Since I fancy myself a man of taste, I decided to start with a solid helping of butter-fried perogies and onions:

Little envelopes of potato, cheese, and joy - all addressed to my mouth.

2. Sit. That's right! By doing frig all, you'll soon be wondering who the hell turned that damned thermostat up as high as it is, and why the fuck can't we open some windows for once?

3. Test. Not everyone has the same temperature "comfort zone,"  so it's important to gauge how well you're Packing it On. Because some like it warmer than others, it is very important for you to step outside on a frigging cold day and see how warm you feel.

It was still a bit nippy.

If you've reached the point where you've stepped outside in a snow storm, buck naked, and thought "My, what a balmy day," then congratualtions! You've succeeded in Packing it On enough to make it through the winter. In the spring, you'll notice the THOUSANDS of spare dollars sitting in your bank account, just waiting to be used up at your local buffet.

You're welcome.

We here at quantity over quality would like to welcome Foreign Mike back to his (almost) home land. Having visited Europe and, in doing so, tasted all there is to taste, Ex-Foreign Mike has discovered that quality does indeed trump quantity among those who live across the Atlantic from us.

As a result of this frightening discovery, we've come to the conclusion that Europe must be a horrible and decidedly unfunny place to live - a land plagued with fancy and beautiful foods, each crafted with skilled hands and blatant expertise. Any given portion, tiny and wrought with flavour and beautifully crafted chocolate swirls, is eaten with tiny forks between drags from long and skinny cigarettes whilst the patrons, each wearing crisp berets cocked to one side, declare "Mon Dieu! Cette nourriture est délicieuse et petite!"

We're glad that Local Mike has returned, only slightly scathed by the works of art they call food. It is our intent to reintroduce Native Mike to North American food over the holidays. The salty, artifically flavoured and coloured greaseballs we call grub awaits eagerly its destiny held within his long-denied digestive tract.

Welcome back, Ordinary Mike. It's time to make you funny eat again.

I've been asked by countless people the following question: "Chef of the Big and Awesome, what should I prepare for my family on this rainy and glum day?" My answer is always the same: lots of whatever you happen to have around the house. Who wants to go grocery shopping on a day when you can get wet from just being outside? On top of that, who wants to go grocery shopping when you can instead be eating? Not this guy, that's for sure.

To give you a few ideas, here's what I whipped up on this rainy day:

French toast!

Shown is the smoke-detector which I had to disconnect while cooking. Again.

Once the appetizer was complete, I had to think long and hard about the main course. I settled on 1/4 of a pumpkin pie:

It was bigger in person.

I love pie. Not as much as these guys, however. Nevertheless, pie is my second-favorite thing in life. I therefore decided the dessert course should be another piece of pie.

It's pointing at me.

A cup of tea (one must be civilized once in a while) later, and I was ready for a nap. I'd like to thank "hurricane" Danny for shutting me in and forcing me to scour my cupboards. Props go to Aunt Jemima as well.

The Law of Threes: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a single patty, must be in want of two more patties.

The origin of the Law of Threes is shrouded in mystery, though it is believed by many to have been created by a butcher from Steventon, Hampshire, England. Legend has it that business was poor sometime between the years of 1811 and 1815; the butcher, understanding the power of mass marketing, wrote that very law on a sign in front of his store. Instead of upping his business three-fold, some bitch ended up stealing his slogan, made it about love, and used it as the first line in some crappy book she was writing at the time. Many believe she was a militant vegan.

I've lived my life by the Law of Threes. Whenever given the chance, I'll fork over the extra cash to up the meat-count of my burgers by three. I know that I am making the ghost of that poor butcher proud each time I say "Let's up those patties a bit, eh?" to the pimply-faced thirteen-year-old with braces behind the cash.

More recently, I've been barbecuing like mad. Of course, the Law of Threes is a welcome member of my family. It is a member who ensures the Law is never broken by me in my home, and I do well by it:

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Of course, the Law of Threes is versatile; it can also be applied to chicken (what can't it do?!):

Too much green, arguably.

I'd just like to thank that ye olde English butcher for making my life as ultra as it is. I'd also like to flip off vegans everywhere, but my hands are too busy holding this three-storey burger I have here. And typing - I'm also doing that. Right.

The secret to eating a breakfast buffet where there is no breakfast buffet is to order everything from their breakfast-side menu and have the waiter arrange your order as such:

I'd like to thank Nathan for helping me with the last pancake. For the record, I could have done it if I hadn't had a real breakfast two hours earlier.