Lady Irene is coming to town

Flashlights. Canned food. Gas tanks. Gutters. Windows. Sump pumps. Generators. Fear. Frenzy.

Ladies and gentleman, brace yourselves. Watch all of your DVR'd shows and keep those macs a'charging. Get those gas tanks topped off and gather up your flashlights. Batteries? Fight to the death. Only the fully charged will survive. Most important of all, get your wine bottles ready to let those corks fly when shit hits the fan and Hurricane Irene comes to town. 

New York is currently in a state of emergency as it waits the arrival of Irene... and when it comes to hurricanes, us New Yorkers do NOT mess around. For the first time in my 23 years of existence- yes, to be politically correct, I am rounding up a wee bit- the NYC transit has ceased services. The subways have shut down and evacuations have been enacted. Every news channel is saying goodness gracious glory be! Batten down the hatches because this bitch is going to be one bumpy ride. Well, perhaps they haven't worded it so eloquently.

As for the response? The streets are flooded, not yet with water, but with chaos. Cars are on the go, stocking up on supplies, raping and pillaging the battery aisles. Gas lines are hours long. Water bottles are worth their weight in gold. Traffic crowds the roads, drivers are maddened, many licenses being worthy of revocation. The supermarket shelves are massacred, not a drop of oil remains.

New Yorker rage reigns the land as we sit waiting... waiting for the unknown to come knocking at our doors... waiting for the power to blow and the candles to glow. Not knowing what comes next has stirred up the state. So rather than sit around, letting the news pulse in our brains, allowing the fear and frenzy to further, we stock up, prepare, plan, and pop open the prosecco for there's no declaring war on Mother Nature. 

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