Aftermath: Hurricane Irene Styles

Things are still windy and wet here in the Bay- Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. We're not flooded, nor were there random Russians blown onto people's lawns in drenched Armani Exchange.
Just a lot of leaves in the street and people wondering when the trains are going to start running.
Here is my account of the STORM OF THE CENTURY- my account means something because I live in the ZONE and supposedly shit was supposed to go down!

- I watch NBC news and start criticizing the newscasters, but falling more in love with my fellow New Yorkers who were all like : fuck this storm! I then make a salad for dinner and then start watching Barbershop.

-Filled with regret watching Barbershop, I begin trolling the internet and get some writing done.

- Feeling snacky I get some watermelon while I watch Mayor Bloomberg AKA El Bloombito speak Spanish and tell us we may die during the night. I shrug and finish writing.

- Deciding I need exercise, I start dancing around. Ass poppin', practicing my Matrix dance- I'm going to try to bring that one back.

- Enough is enough, I go to bed. The most disturbing thing that happened the WHOLE night (into morning) was this dream I had. I dreamt I was hooking up with this really old dude. Like white haired- but still strong bodied and he was dressed like Colonel Sanders or something. A Southern gentleman of some sort.
OH by 'hooking up' I mean just making out!
Now, I was either a vampire with my human lover that got old.
Reliving some old ancestral slave affair...OR having some 'old man and the sea' anxiety. Perhaps making out with 'old man river'??? I dunno.

Overall, I am sorry for the deaths, but for that dream...EFF YOU IRENE!!!!!!!!!