5:35 p.m.

Isabelle is coming.

Five hundred miles off the coast of North Carolina, a swirling conflux of wind and water slowly marches north and west. Her arms flung far and wide, hoping to crush all that she touches in the unweilding force of primal Nature. She is unstoppable, so powerful that even the US Navy runs before her. In 2 days she will hit the coast. It is not certain exactly which way she will turn, but it is certain that whatever cities lie in her path are in danger. She will destroy without thought or care.

Me? I'm not worried. Why? Because I have assembled my Disaster Preparedness Kit. And by "kit" I really mean "Batteries. A, C, and D."

So, yeah, I'm screwed. I've got the batteries, but no canned goods. Walmart was sold out of everything, and I do mean everything, except for diced zucchini in tomato sauce. Thanks, but no. Since we're on the topic, Walmart was also out of bread, peanut butter, granola, cereal, bottled water, portable radios under $129, duct tape, and deodorant. Anyone who thinks that the last on is not absolutely crucial to close-quarters survival has clearly never been around me after a hard game of kickball. Or Trivial Pursuit.

I'm not that upset about it though. I do love me my storms, but I'm supposed to fly to Milwaukee on Friday, so I might miss this one. Of course, there is a chance that my flight will be cancelled and then I'd be trapped by the storm with no food.

So, I guess, in the true American spirit, I'll have to rise to the occaision and forge my own destiny, find my own way, fend for my....

Ah, screw it, I'll just go looting.

leave me a note, fool!

designed by mocksie.
brought to you by diaryland.