RIGHT ABOUT NOW: the weather here on Halifax has taken a turn for the shits as the remnants of Hurricane Wilma motors up the North Atlantic, as my thoughts turn to my friends on the MCDVs heading down south to do some - uh... - training. (That's right. Training. Yeah. Whatever.)
Even though the former cat 3 hurricane will have been downgraded to an extra-tropical storm, the Powers That Be in the NS government isn't taking too many chances, warning people about her power and the potential damages to be caused overnight.
At least this event should lack the wallop that Juan packed a couple of years ago - knock on wood! When that sonovabiatch passed through, we in the Province bitched, coplained and rolled up our sleeves to clean up the aftermath.
No fingerpointing. No innuendo. No accusations about black people being neglected, eh Kanye? We just fixed things up a bit. Regular visits by the Tim Hortons van helped us a lot - we needed our black nectar of the Gods (or was it amber? single-malt? 151-proof?) to go on.
What I'm trying to say is this...
BRING IT ON, BITCH!
Ha ha ha!
Update (27 Oct 05) - Alright, so the storm missed us by a bit. Nothing but pissant pissy rainfall, a bit of a stiff breeze and nothing else.
And to think that I have ixnayed all my arrangements for this. BLAH! >:p