Nothing Says 'Cinco de Mayo' Like a Fucking Tornado...

So, I'm on my way home from work around 6:45 or so, and the weather was awful. Shit-balls awful to be precise. Glenwood Ave, the main road by my place, must have had a foot of water or so for my car to wade through. Thoughts of the quintessential storm movie Twister were swimming through my head. Not that the conditions were similar; I just tend to zone out and day dream about '90s action movies while I'm driving. It's terribly dangerous and irresponsible. But I digress...

Being the genius that I am, rather than head straight home I decide to grab some Dos Equis at the grocery store because of my tendency to affiliate myself with Mexicans approximately once every 365 days, and I notice that nobody seems to be leaving the store on account of the storm. I simply chalk this up to a disproportionate amount of queerbos in the store at the moment, so I continue back onto the flooded roads, conditions worsening, my focus turning to thoughts of the epic 1997 roller coaster thrill ride, Face/Off, directed by John Woo, and accidentally coming within inches of hitting a batch of pedestrians while speeding through a red light.

I actually might have clipped one or two of them.

By the will of Allah and my intense driving skillz, I make it back to my place. In my lobby there are about 15 people huddling around due to the storm. I'm really starting to get confused by all of this unnecessary concern. So many people afraid of some rain and lightning. What the shit. I've got a bunch of gayfers living in my building too apparently...

Cowboy up, pussy...

When I get into my apartment my first thought is to check weather.com and see what all this hoopla is about.


Main focus being on the first bullet point. I don't know about you but I'm not a fan of exclamation points in my fucking weather reports. So there's a tornado roaming in my area. Neat. Seek shelter immediately! Neat.

The second bullet point seems rather helpful. "More Warning Details." Yes, please.

Fuck! Another exclamation point! Take cover now? I'm in my apartment. Okay, that should be okay. This should be okay. This place is big and made out of bricks and other shit that assuages my fears. I am on the 6th floor though...That should probably be okay. I'll just read on and see what else this exclamation point ridden warning has to say...

"Oh, fuck me!!" I say as I crudely fashion a suit of armor made of pillows and blankets to myself with duct tape. I don't own a workbench and all my furniture is a goddamn unsturdy piece of hand-me-down shit! You know what? Don't panic just yet. Let me read to the end. "In a time of emergency, information is power," I mumble through a pillow I've just taped to my face.


Two ampersands!?!?! The message ended with two fucking ampersands!!! Oh, wait, that actually seems more random than anything...

So after 5 arduous hours, the tornado warning eventually passed, and it appears that I've survived the 2009 Great Tornado of Raleigh, which currently only I am calling it. While I'll never be able to forget the terror of this night, I can hope to slowly move on with my life.

For now, there is only one thing that will make me feel better, and that is, of course, hopping in my car and contemplating the artistic merits of quite possibly the greatest '90s action film of them all, Die Hard: With a Vengeance.

John McClane: The reason I'm likely to commit vehicular manslaughter tonight.