Dou­ble Hur­ri­cane, what does it mean?

Dammit, I don’t have time for a stu­pid hur­ri­cane right now. Earl begone and take Fiona with you.

We still have gunk on the front porch ready to go to stor­age and then there’s this whole dry­ing out under the house thing going on, too. And there’s not a decent flash­light in the house, even though over 200 C-​batteries cur­rently live in the pine cup­board due to an over-​stocking mishap last month. So Fiona and Earl need to keep veer­ing away from the east­ern NC coast­line. Don’t make me find the Sterno, don’t want to buy Pop­Tarts and other storm pro­vi­sions and godon­ly­knows I don’t want to prep the ancient dump­ster div­ing vehi­cle — the Dodge Car­a­van circa pre-​combustion engine era mechan­ics — with dog ken­nels and food /​water for the canines. Obvi­ously the dogs won’t be rid­ing out the storm in the Volvo, duh.

So, Earl? No wham­mies. No wham­mies. And Fiona? Stand down. We had Floyd and Den­nis in 1999, we don’t want any more visitors.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 30th, 2010 at 6:41 pmand is filed under Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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