5:30 PM
KT reporting live from downtown neah the train station.
It was close, but I think I’m finally prepared for this asshole storm for jerks. I made a last stop at Turtle Alley and Liquor Locker for the provisions we couldn’t live without. Apparently I may have looked desperate and hopeless as I approached the Liquor Locker, as Lara Lepionka lovingly recreated in the photo below:
RUN GIRL THERE AIN’T MUCH TIME
I picked up my older kid at EGS, which had not yet been swallowed whole by mass panic and/or whatever Jim was talking about, and then came home. And I’m not even dead yet. I have like a whole jar of Fluff, some macaroni and cheese, and an entire leftover ¼ sheet birthday cake (chocolate AND vanilla, like a boss) AND TWENTY FOUR DELICIOUS BEERS. We have jockeyed cars in our driveway so our neighbors can fit in and don’t have to go all the way to the high school. We are GOOD TO GO. I mean, okay, we have electric heat, but whatever, if the power goes out the dog can keep us warm all night with his farts.
I think Jim’s overreacting. We’re totally all gonna be fine. Super fine. Nothing to worry about at all.
You’re calling Mike “the dog”, now?
When feral dogs dig your corpses out of the snowbanks you collapsed into as you vainly fled the bespoke doom, will you laugh then? (Rhetorical)
Doom can be tailored?
Downtown: Hardcore Badassery that spits in the face of East Gloucester. N’est-ce pas?
(Reporting from Rockport, where I’ve just pulled homemade granola out of the oven as field mouse & sparrows attend to the hem of my dress…)