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7:27 a.m. - 2004-09-07


As the remnants of Hurricane Frances batter the states all around mine except for mine, I thought that maybe the best way to detail the damage done to my home would be via a photo essay combined with a blog-style narrative.

Then I said "Fuck it. You get what I give you."

Monday. 3:34 p.m.

As the winds creep near the 10 mph zone, Andrew and I huddle in the den next to the windows, staring danger in the face.

The effects of the remnants of Tropical Depression Frances take their toll on Andrew's sunglasses which were carelessly left outside.

Witness the carnage.

Yes, dead grass littered my patio like dead grass that had already been on my patio due to my reluctance to sweep said patio before taking this photo.

But look closer.


As you can see ... Andrew's sunglasses had been ripped from their position on the dusty patio table and thrown carelessly onto the ground like a rag doll made of green plastic with darkened plastic lenses.

Terrifying, oui?

Even MORE terrifying is the damage done to my neighbor's brand new fence that he completed on Sunday.

Take a close look. Take a real damned close look, Skippy.

As you can see, the winds are just like a tornado's winds except about 200 mph slower ... but still the effects are chilling.

Witness ... the tropical depression's winds knocked out EVERY OTHER SLAT from my neighbor's fence.

They say tornados can sometimes demolish a home while leaving the home next door completely intact.

But they never talk about the damage done to fences.

Because it's a taboo subject amongst people that talk about the damage of tornados.

I think.

I'm not sure. But that would almost make sense, right?

As the remnants of Tropical Depression Frances scooted across Georgia last night, completely off course of what every goddamned weatherman in the world had been babbling about over the last week, I huddled nervously in my closet while the Mrs. and Andrew watched "The Tigger Movie" last night and wrote what I feel is the best example of my scrambled thoughts during this heinous evening as the winds picked up to 11 mph.

I have gone to the trouble of putting these extraordinary words to picture, so as to best illustrate the terror associated with the remnants of a tropical depression that hits land and then dances scattershot across the earth, doing whatever the hell it feels like doing.


Here we go.






Darkness falls across the land.

The midnight hour is close at hand.

Creatures crawl in search of blood.

To terrorize y'all's neighborhood.

That's all, really. After I wrote the fourth line, I got bored and watched the rest of "The Tigger Movie" with the family.

Still, today, clouds are moving across the sky like dead fish floating downstream of a polluted creek full of used condoms and empty beer bottles.

While the photo doesn't do it justice, the clouds are moving quickly, trust me.

(To get the full effect, shake your head side to side really quickly while you stare at the photo.)

See? I told you.

Go away now, Frances. You've worn out your welcome.

Bring it on Ivan.

You pitiful bitch, you.

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