(6:43 pm last night)
(Doc skims over a news site)
Hurricane Rina Lumbers Toward Mexican Resort Towns
"Oh, big deal! Probably nothin' more than a bunch of fat-cat 1-percenters living in the lap of luxury off the sweat and toil of us hard-working 99-percenters! Go get 'em, Rina! Kick some Wall Street ass!"
(goes back to reading, glad he got it out of his system)
Ding!
"Hmm, an email. From the landlord? Wonder what that's all about."
Subject: HURRICANE PREPAREDNESS PLAN
"Huh?"
(goes to NOAA web site)
"Uh, yeah? And? Who gives a shit what happens to Mexico? What the hell's my landlord talking about?"
(fearing he's being suckered into playing into the hands of a demented madman, Doc goes to the Stormpulse site, since it has such pretty graphics)
"Oh."
(preparing for a long evening of picturing the worst that could happen when hit by a Category 18 hurricane, Doc grabs the blender and whips up one of his famous Valium-Vicodin-Jack Daniels-methamphetamine milkshakes and heads over to Terrapin, his usual mainstay for hurricane tracking because it uses the combined plot of the six best agencies in the business)
"Well, at least we can be grateful that we live in a day and age when hurricanes can be accurately predicted," he says fatefully.
"Okay, so maybe there are still a few kinks to work out of the system."
And that's the sitch at the moment. If it continues on the Stormpulse track (also in this video), you'll have some real, live hurricaneblogging here at Maggie's.
With emphasis on the "live" part, hopefully.
