Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Surviving The "Frankenstorm" or How I Whipped Hurricane Sandy's Ass!

      Today is the heralded arrival of "Frankenstorm", a storm so intimidating...they've prefaced it with a Gothic horror novel title. Which, if trying to instill fear, is as effective as naming a villain wrestler "Admiral Vagina".

Pictured: Your weatherly demise.

     Alas, I feel that living in the vicinity of the affected ocean, I have an obligation to prepare. Why? To establish a connection with the human condition via sympathy. My therapist says I should try an alleviate my self imposed social alienation. He says I should quit masturbating too. Since I'm not DEFINITELY not quitting that...I felt the need to throw his psychoanalysis a bone.


Part One: Food

The hoard.

      Having little experience in the way of disaster preparedness, I was pretty confused. I had questions. What do people normally eat when it's raining a lot? What do they wear? How do you go about partying? Et cetera, et cetera. For more information, I turned to the most reliable information source on the planet...Yahoo Answers. It was there that I asked the age old question, "What does one eat when about to be drowned by flash floods, raw sewage and copious amounts of used bong water?". 

      My replies, as you'd  expect, were not helpful. Most involved eating dick...or variations thereof. Google wasn't much help either, as all it gave me were "hurricane recipes", "evacuation strategies" and kitten photos. So, finally, I went with my gut and decided to tackle the worst of my problems first. Food. I chose a supermarket at random and cruised it's aisles for food that looked survival-like. I settled on four cans of Spam and twelve Dinty Moore meals and booze. 

Food: check!

Part Two: Clothing

Thanks for the boner Google Images!

      The food problem, now sorted, I moved on to the second pressing concern; clothing. What do you wear in a skin ripping storm wrought from Hell's own fury? Polyester? Again, I went to the web and again..shot down by cute kittens and things about AVOIDING hurricane weather. So, I turned to good ol' human instinct and what it told me was, "Trash bags!". So, with a little tailoring, I am now donning a trash bag poncho.

      What else you might ask? A sweet pair of galoshes with drawn on flames and nothing else. I'm not in the business of letting storms wet my clothes with it's dirty, filthy rain, no sir. So, I'm going commando. BEAT THAT DEATH STORM!

Clothes: check!

Part Three: Transportation

The Cadillac of the water bound homeless.

      While doing the research for this post, I came across something everyone seems to have missed. All of those survival guides leave out transportation! What do you do when the storm to end all storms leaves you fleeing your collapsed dream house? What about making a beer run? The car is now crippled, swamped and laughably un-buoyant. Your bed, though foamy and memory equipped is not a flotation device simply lays there...mocking your desire to save your own life. The answer of course is the adorable kayak. It's trusty one man operation is practically fool proof and sans motor pretty cheap-ish. I picked up an inflatable version from a nervous man selling from the back of a truck. Though the sales staff was sweaty and pushy, the price was rock bottom. Plus, they recognized gold rings as a form of currency. Awesome.

Transportation; Check!

Part Four: The Party

Nothing betters your chances at survival like, booze.

      Having food, clothing and transportation sussed out, all that was left, was what company I would keep. It's important to know that there will be a decent conversation, while the world is drenched into an unforgiving oblivion. Naturally, I gravitated toward the internet and it's "Facebook" for people to huddle in watery darkness with. It turns out that they have "family" and such that they'd rather share their end with. So, after removing them from my friends list, I moved on to my secondary source, my cell phone. No go there either, the bastards.

  I settled on eight strangers I found near a bus terminal. They weren't very trusting of my party proposition at first and who could blame them? When a man approaches you carrying a kayak and wearing nothing but an ill fitting trash bag, touting the nutritional benefits of Dinty Moores, you think twice about partying with him. Eventually, they came around and are now relaxing in my newly constructed storm shelter. Oh, did I mention my storm shelter?

Party: Check!

Part Five: Shelter

The pool house.

      While reading through article after article of dastardly weather survival, I realized a startling fact. A lot of people die while "riding out the storm" in their houses! Was I going to add to that statistic? "Hell no.", I said to myself boldly and out loud, to the confusion of people at the home improvement store. So, I set out to build my home away from water sodden home. Yet, I would have to build it within my slim to nonexistent budget. 

      Dumping over my empty cart in an aisle I walked out of the store...and around to it's rear. There I found everything I needed, dumpsters filled with cardboard goodness. Carting a good deal of it home, I constructed what must be counted as the eighth wonder of the modern world (or ninth...one of those). Running an extension cord from my house for power, using coffee cans for bathroom purposes and Playboys for recreational purposes, I can say, "FUCK YOU FRANKENSTORM SANDY! Suck it."

Shelter: Check!

      Now, I sit, strangers in tow, drinking what I believe is punch but, what might be a homeless man's homemade booze out of a soup can. The wind is howling, causing my trash bag to ripple in obscene ways. I'm confident of my survival. I'll see you on the other side of the Frankenstorm Armageddon, suckers! I'll be the nonchalant guy in plastic attire eating spam in his kayak, outside his cardboard palace waving as you drown!


  1. Y'know, you could have foregone the spam and blown the whole food budget on beer and also, I think you forgot the purchase of a gigantic gun to protect your well-earned shelter.

    1. I thought about gun purchase, but, I figured, what gun ever helped anyone swim? While they're all fussing about with their water logged ammunition and worrying over how to dry their gun, I'll sail by on my sweet, alcohol laden kayak of awesomeness.


Comment. Lest your fear consume you, cry baby.