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5:32 a.m. - 2004-09-15


Sooooo ... I go to Walmart yesterday morning to get prepared for Ivan the Terrible (ohmigod ... what a witty name for a hurricane ... I sure hope whichever genius at the Weather Channel who came up with that gem is promoted quickly).

Here's something to prove my utter incompetence as a human being ... for those of you who have always referred to Walmart as "Wally World" ... I never figured out you were talking about Walmart. I just figured it was some chain store that was out of my area. It wasn't until yesterday at Walmart when I heard a girl talking on her cell phone and saying "I'm at Wally World ... what else do we need?" that a light bulb went off over my head and it dawned on me ... that's yet another witty nickname for something that I would have never come up with.

I'm just sayin'.

So anyway ... I go to Walmart ... and the shelves are BARE.

Scary bare.

Folks, there's very little that will creep you out like weathermen yelling at you that Armageddon is coming ... and you rush off to the local Super Wally World (heh! I'm so CHIC!) and you head for the bottled water area and there ain't a goddamned bottle of water on the shelves.

Or Vienna sausages. Which I don't eat ... but still.

Or crackers. Most chips are gone.

Bread's a luxury item.

It brought it all home to me as I ran up and down the aisles, screaming "WHERE'S THE GODDAMNED POP TARTS?!?" as everyone else grabbed whatever was left on the shelves and protecting the goods with their lives.

I managed to get a bag of generic corn chips and a mangled can of Fiesta Corn that looked like it had been run over with a truck.

It was going to be a very "corny" hurricane.




I also got the new Survivor: All Stars DVD to watch during the hurricane before I remembered that my DVD and TV don't run on batteries.


So I go to Le' Expensive Grocery Store, where everything costs at least a dollar more than they do at Walmart.

Naturally, LEGS has pulllllenty of water and bread and non-dented cans of fiesta corn.

So I stocked up there and now we have enough chips, granola bars and pop tarts to choke a horse.

I've been filling up gallon sized bags with water and cramming them in the freezer.

Today, I'm throwing everything that's outside into the garage.

I'm videotaping all the rooms in the house in case there's damage and I have to have proof for insurance.

And I'm stacking mattresses in the hallway so Andrew can have a fort and play during the hurricane while his Mommy and Daddy get all catatonic on him, hugging their knees and rocking back and forth.

This was supposed to be one of my best weeks in a long time as far as DJing.

I had parties lined up for five nights in a row from Tuesday-Saturday.

Now, I have none. They've all been cancelled or postponed.


Fucking Ivan ... scaring everyone into their hallways.


By now, you're sitting there, sweat beading on your upper lip and tapping your fingers on your desk with the same phrase repeating in your head over and over again ...

"What's up with your teeth, Uncle Bob? What's up with your teeth, Uncle Bob?"

Welllll ... I'm proud to report that I'm no puss.

I have a cracked tooth. Number 30 to be exact.

While I'm "supposed" to go to a enthropediatricologist or whatever they're called tomorrow at 10 a.m., I doubt seriously I'm going to make it because there's going to be a FUCKING HURRICANE in town at that point and I'm going to be too busy wolfing down Pop Tarts under a mattress in my hallway at that point to go.

The dentist said that I will most likely need a root canal.


Scratch that ... wonderfuckingful.

From what I understand, a root canal is slightly more uncomfortable than stretching your urethra open with metal hooks and having rusty twisted tin cans shoved in your pee-pee hole.

Oh joy oh joy.

I DJed a fund raiser at this house that was ... man .... bee-yoo-ti-ful last night.

The backyard was so impressive, they had a permanent stone STAGE at the back of the yard where I was set up. Three different levels of gardens led up to the stage with trees and flowers lit up all along the way.

It was gorgeous. Being a landscaping freak, I was so jealous that I punched out the owner of the house on the way out.

I blamed it on the stress of the eminent hurricane.

So I dunno ... this may be the last time you hear from me for a while. They're predicting major power outages that can last as long as two weeks.

It's funny ... I've got the news on in the background and the main story is the evacuation in New Orleans.

Uhhhhh ... take a look at the projected path, assholes. The hurricanes coming over ALAFUCKINGBAMA ... not Louisiana.

The media HATES to say the word "Alabama" so they're always saying "GEORGIA'S GOING TO GET HIT ... NEW ORLEANS IS BEING EVACUATED ... MISSISSIPPI IS CLOSED ... oh. Alabama's the one getting hit. But who really cares about that backassward state?"

Dirty media bastards.


I'm tired.

Time to get ready to die.

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