Monday, August 27, 2012

If I could get out, I'd go to another planet.

If I could get out, I'd go to another planet.

Reporting here as "man on the street." Hurricane Central."

Yes, six -years to the day. Of course this isn't any Katrina, but nonetheless, it's rained down here so much this summer we could have watered the entire So. West and still never missed a drop.

Ah, those clever little devils and their geoengineering.

And people wonder why they call us nuts, when we become suspicious of the weather. "Is it real? Or is it Memorex?

"Wait! What's in those Fig Newton's you're stockpiling?"

First thing this morning I jump in my truck - nothing. Spent the next 3-hrs monkeying with it until I give up. Spent the day shoring-up the house, and getting what I can on the back of my bike. (6-large bags of ice - If I had my trailer, which is 6-weeks behind schedule, I could of taken the entire cooler)

Ball-busting work shoring-up these old houses. Generator works. Got gas, water. Go to push-start my truck. Nothing. A coughing sputter.

Couldn't go if I had too. Anit doing no FEMA Camp. Brandon Raub still fresh in the air. Everything's oiled.

Sitting here with two old-farts, one a Berkley educated, atheist, leftest intellectual, and the other just smart enough to know she's being conned, loving Democratic, socialists.

If we get a good deal of rain, I suspect we'll get some water in this house, maybe 6-inches. (Which reminds me, have to get the rubber-boots out of the truck - parked it near the levee.)

I'll keep posting until the lights go out. They will. Someone cuts-wind in this neighborhood, the power goes out.

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