This may be my last post ever, since Western Washington is supposed to be hit with a giant windstorm this weekend. Actually two. The first one happened earlier this morning (or should have; I'm writing this beforehand). This one's supposed to be dramatically inconvenient, with pine trees scattering the 405, baseball hats being blown off never to be recovered, umbrellas inverted and love affairs dying in the grip of hurricane-borne viruses. But it's the Saturday night/Sunday morning storm that's supposed to
really mess our shit up. We're talking home foundations being ripped from the skin of the earth, zeppelins crashing to the ground, vortices of hate sucking tech workers into the substrata over in South Lake Union, pigs declaring sovereignty and setting up their own constitutional governments, sentient cash registers dumping kruggerands onto delicatessens and everybody getting
really offended, Mary Poppins lookalikes using the "f" word for the first time, a sudden surge in the popularity of head cheese, time travelers from 2515 taking all the Aquafina, and a Cubs-Indians World Series. So if I vanish and we never speak again,
au revoir, thanks for all the drinks and laughter. But if I survive, watch out, fantasy football opponents. Be safe.
