So Isaac, who apparently has serious identity crises issues, is heading for us. Probably. Whatever. Tropical storm, hurricane, tropical storm, and back and forth and back and forth like a hooker in Tampa right now.
We've got food and water and Tom has booze and I have yarn and Oreo has pillows. We're sheltering in place.
Also, super headlight of superness
 |
| Bring it, bitches! |
Things we have learned:
- Dippy stoner girls do their hurricane shopping around 9:30 PM and make me want to stab people
- Plastic forks sell out quickly
- Every public official in and near New Orleans sounds nuts
Also, if I wake up and this bastard has turned into a Cat 3 or something overnight I'm going to be really, really pissed. As it is, it's probably going to just sit over a huge swath of the Gulf Coast, aka
"The Land Mass between NOLA and Mobile" for at least a day with major storm features.
Oh, and according to
the Weather Channel, I got my BA at this place:
Thanks, guys. We had almost gotten over no one being able to pronounce
Biloxi properly after
Katrina.
And, you know, everyone flipping their shit about New Orleans when the entire "Land Mass" was laid waste.