I am not there, so I get to skip over the apocalypse. Hurricane Irene is about to descend upon NYC at 950mb. In other words, this shit is going to fuck up my house, which stands on an island, slightly above sea level.
Last night I packed the bags and headed west to central Pennsylvania, where I am now mingling amongst the Amish, building dressers and shit. I just got off the phone with my retarded sister, who happens to be in a mandatory evacuation zone, who has decided with her boyfriend to “tough it out” with sub pumps and shit.
In the words of the great Shepherd (sp?) Smith, “you better know how to swim for a long, long time.”
I will be domiciled in central PA indefinitely, because I am not interested in being inconvenienced by power outtages or floods. Although my house is not in a flood zone, I fully expect it to be swept away by random and insidious tornadoes. I told my wife and kids, “the house is as good as gone. Let’s go live amongst the Amish.”
Fuck this shit. I can buy 10 more houses tomorrow and 100 new ones in this greatly depressed area of central PA.
If you are braving the storm in NYC, you’re a fucking ape and deserve to swim.
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