Oh hey! There was hurricane throughout the East Coast from Sunday to Tuesday of last week. Did you hear about this? Gotta tell you, I ignored every single news report of it because my evil Canadian overlord (see: my job) almost assuredly wouldn’t close. I prepared for the hurricane as the best little You Life I could be. I went to the dollar store and got the essentials:
cat food – look at how fucking terrified that cat is, also 30% protein? Amazing. Cat litter – for cartoon animals
And diet coke.
Sunday night I was lounging when I got a call that indicated that the East Coast was going to fall into the ocean: my office was closed. Perhaps I should have purchased a candle? Nope – let the rains come.
The beginning of the hurricane stay-vaction
On Monday I woke up to a gray sky, but nothing that indicated to me that the gods’ were wrathful. After waking up, going back to sleep, waking up again, and then trying to make a cup of coffee from an espresso machine that I forgot I stole from a cunty ex-roommate I was up. Starving. Bored.
So I assessed the following two things: the secret reserves in the apartment
This is for the end times. The secret storage of candy, syrup, and strawberry fluff
And how it looked outside:
Let’s be frank. There is only so much reading, movie watching, hobby-doing, and masturbating that a person can do in one day. At around two I had enough. I left the apartment to walk to get food. Nothing was open. So then, I did what any adult would do.
I went to see how terrifying the playground was during the hurricane
Shortly after going on the swings a police officer drove by and gave me a very stern tongue lashing pertaining to the idiocy of wandering around during a storm.
Sent this text message to my best friend after the lights started flickering:
“I better not have to wank off by candle light” (it would be like jerking off during Little House of the Prairie times. I want to crank it with all of the modern amenities).
Hunger took over. So I did what I needed to do…
I defrosted the chocolate bunnies from Easter, seven months earlier, and covered them in Cupcake magic shell for dinner
Sadness. Utter sadness.
Finally a friend without power came over with the barest of cooking supplies (defrosted chicken thighs, a mini pan, rice, and rum). Seeing as how I don’t own any of the following: cooking oil, a pot, utensils, or a pan it was going to be a trial to cook both the chicken and rice. But, since I am a bit of a fucking wizard I made an entire meal using the smallest frying pan known to man and an iron skillet that was so large that it could have cooked me. I steamed the rice in the skillet with a pizza box. INDUSTRIOUSNESS.
While cooking this a Queen song played in the background. What is covering the bitty frying pan? A metal pizza “stone” …rust side up.
Tried to sleep in. With great success
Played SNES for hours
In the battle for Kirby dominance I told Happy Brother Senior to eat an entire bag of dicks and finished the victor.
And then it all de-evolved after the second entire day without leaving the apartment. It de-evolved into me creating this “mojito” mix that I think was a code for rat poison. It called to fill a plastic bucket with warm water, this neon green powder, and rum. Later on that day I could be found amongst the piles of VHS tapes in my apartment, eating the slushy poison out of a bucket, dancing to the last song from the credits in Legend.
No seriously, Tangerine Dream is fucking out of this world amazing.
And that is how I survived.
Because I was fine. And my love was strong enough.
Hearts, and flowers, and posi vibes to those not as ridiculously fortunate as me.