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I'm hoping today will be a dull one, to be honest with you. I slept a little bit last night, but the mania's still alive, well and here. Crap.
Will probably lay low today so I can sleep tonight, meaning I'm not going to rip through things like Hurricane Mandi did yesterday. (Known also to *Puppetcancer
as "Deputy Spaz.") Renowned comedian Lewis Black wonders why we name hurricanes but not tornados, as in "Tornado Timmy is coming, flee!"
Here's your answer, Lewis. You can't make up a name for the tornado fast enough. You have a few days with hurricanes, anyone can come up with a name in two days. When you have two minutes to get your shit and get out, however, your priorities aren't naming your tornado. That's why. Tornado Timmy gives you maybe a minute, two tops, before it hits and you've got things to do to prep for it that doesn't include naming the thing that's about to take your car and slam it through the oak tree down the street. We'll name the tornado when it's done.
With that being said, the tornado that happened yesterday that touched down on my stuff that for argument's sake we'll call Mandi came tearing through and left organized devastation in her wake. Things are a little too organized right now. Like neurotically so. Huh. Well, okay. So Tornado Mandi works in reverse; your shit gets put together, not thrown around. Well... whodda thunk it?
And I say all of this pretending Tornado Mandi is not coming back to extract her revenge on whatever clutter has offended her today. Not that there's much. Tornado Mandi might just end up vacuuming instead to say she did something. Tornado Mandi is not an idle force of nature. She shows up, some shit's gonna go down.
Then again, Tornado Mandi DOES want to re-watch Angels & Demons and pick it apart some more before she returns it to the library tomorrow. Oh, that reminds Tornado Mandi, put a hold on "I Am Malala" while you're there. There are twenty on it already, if you wait much longer you'll be fifty before you read it.
Or, y'know, you could just suck it up and buy the damned thing. Which is probably the most likely thing that's going to happen, because all of my books were destroyed in The Great Basement Flood, so I have precious and few of those that are slowly being replaced.
And yes. Tornado Mandi cried when she found this out.
God love you, my Possums. I do.