As I type this, barbecue grills are flying by my window and I live on the second floor. For the past few days I have been mocking “frankenstorm” Sandy. Why? Because I live in New England. It is like Old England, but with way stupider, angrier people. The thing about living in New England is, the news hypes up EVERY STORM like this. And for a few days, leading up to the storm, the streets are crazy. Traffic is nuts. Everyone is bugging out. And don’t even ATTEMPT to grocery shop in New England a day before a storm, because you will see chaos akin to the movie The Mist. Yet, when these storms always hit, they are pussies. You have a house filled with bottled water, and cabinets full of snacks and crackers. There are ten candles in every room, and yet, nothing happens. So what did we (we being my entire building) do about this storm? Nothing, we did fucking nothing. And for that reason, when I woke up today, and the drain pipe was ripped off the house, and the grill was rolling away by itself, I realized how ironic this was. All the storms we prepped for (because we were told to) were lame and anticlimactic  And the ONE storm we don’t prep for, and babies are being sucked out of parent’s arms and cars are flipping over. So now, there is little I can do, but go outside naked and try to soothe the beast in Sandy with some sensual moves and sweet talk, in hoping to quell her bloodlust.

Sandy’s favorite food is fish fry. She told me so.

The only way I can describe the wind right now would be to compare it to a banshee, or a screaming child, or a child that was screaming in terror from seeing a banshee, who was also screaming. And it doesn’t stop. It just keeps screaming. I know how wind works, and that shouldn’t impress me, but when I say it doesn’t stop, it doesn’t stop. It is like a metal song where the singer never stops screaming to take a breath. I spent forty minutes wrestling with a grill to try to get it inside. When I say wrestling, I am not kidding. This fucking grill did NOT want to come inside, but I am a passionate creature, and I knew it was coming in. I could put a picture of the grill here for you right now, but I fear I would be openly mocked, so I am refraining. The point is, this is not a weak storm. If this storm was a sexual deviancy, it would be fisting. No romance or subtlety there.

This is the only picture I can put here when talking about fisting.

So when I figured out I was at Sandy’s complete mercy, I knew what had to be done. I had to accept my stupidity when it came to undermining this storm. And I had to let her know I was sorry. I know how sensitive female storms can be, and I felt like I needed to fix this. I needed to let her know I know she is powerful, and I am sorry if she feels like anything less than that as the result of my own lack  of good judgement.

But what could I do? I mean, really? Well, I could do what any wise man would do in this situation. I would get naked, grease myself up, and go stand outside. A sort of proverbial sacrifice to keep the other sheep safe. I would let her have her way with me, for the sake of the rest of the Northeast. Maybe if she tasted my kiss and squeezed my supple buttocks, maybe then, she would calm herself. I knew it was far-fetched, but I have to take a chance. This storm is serious business right now. Someone HAS to do something. And this insane idea is as much “something” as anything else, I guess.

Nothing better for greasing up a naked body than Crisco. Just trust me on this one.

So here I am, naked and covered in Crisco, ready to walk into my backyard. I have no idea what is going to happen, but I know I need to do this. For the sake of all mankind. For my kin to the North, and my lover in the other room. For my bunny, and my friends. Right now it is 3:21 pm, on Monday. The storm has just settled in a bit. Storm drains from other yards are in my backyard. The small cracks of space between the window and the windowsill are making strange wailing sounds from the power of the wind, and the whole house is rocking. I sort of wish I was kidding about that last part. It is a little unsettling to look outside and see that ALL the power lines for the street connecting to a single pole in front of THIS building. I mocked her, and she will be my reckoning if I don’t amend this.

So that is what I am doing. Fixing this. So all I can tell you is I will keep you posted. I am gonna give myself to her now, sensually. I am hoping my tender touch quells her need for any more destruction, but if you never see another post from me on here, I think you’ll know why.

The best part, this was taken three hours ago. Shit’s only going to get crazier.