As you most likely by now have heard, a monumental, historic, catastrofuck hurricane, coyly named "Sandy", is cruising up the Eastern Seaboard. It plans on jamming its windy dick particularly straight into New York/Long Island's ass, a raping we have not seen in many moons.
It's all but a certainty that myself and my surrounding areas will be reverted back to the stone age for an extended period of time. Latest estimates predict around ten days, so if the blog goes silent for a while, that would be why.
Going to try to catch up on my Sunny reviews, as well as The Vampire Diaries and Fringe's new episodes before things go dark.
On a related note, for some odd reason, every time I hear the name Sandy being spoken with such stoic urgency, I cant help but chuckle. Such a coy name for a disaster. When Irene hit this time last year, you understood she wasn't fucking around. With the name Sandy, I think of a shy schoolgirl. I think of Olivia Newton John. You know what? Now that I think about it, "Summer Nights" seems oddly apropos considering the circumstances.
See you on the other side.