I’m touched by the lack of response to my current hurricane predicament. Thanks for not worrying about me. Really…no really it’s ok. I’ll be fine; I’ll always be fine. I was a boy scout after all…for about a month.
I know how to camp out and wait for the Red Cross to bring ice and rations. Lounging by the pool getting tan waiting for the power to come back on. Filling my lanterns with tiki torch fuel and the generator with expensive gas to run the window unit. Picking pecans and ready to eat off the vine bronze scuppernong muscadines. Shooting squirrels and birds for the meat. MMM good!
My best hurricane preparedness tip is to get to the liquor store and stock up before the shelves become barren. You know the essential hurricane necessities like cigarettes and booze.
My hurricane socials are becoming quite jammed as of late. I don’t think that I can squeeze in one more party. I’m still trying to wrangle that elusive and exclusive invite of the beachfront condo hurricane party. It’s ever so chic to watch the beach erode right in front of your eyes.
Good luck to the evacuees trapped on the highways of empty gas stations. Good luck surviving the storm in your cars. Them that’s a stayin’, May the Force be with Ya and not A’gin Ya. Remember if you show up at my hurricane house party to bring your invitation I have a doorman and there is going to be a strict dress code and a select crowd inside.
Woohoo! We're having a hurricane Gustav party. Followed by several days of camping and clean up. For visual reference I’ve included before and after pictures of the destruction a category 3 storm can do.