My lovely girlfriend and I went to see her parents yesterday in a little college town in a neighboring state. Pretty little town, but there was one hell of a tornado there a few days before, and it was pretty intense in the way that I think only midwestern tornadoes are. There were plenty of trees with all the leaves beaten off and houses without roofs and roofs without houses and houses without houses. It looks like it was a bad one. There were I-beams that had held up signs and roofs for filling stations that were bent (no shit) like linguini. And yet, no one was hurt. No one. Apparently those folks are USED TO IT, and they get in the basement and stay there. How about that? Folks down South, where I am from, are out running around with the camcorder, getting cut in half by flying aluminum siding, hollering “Dammit, Rhonda, grab that other battery, I’m gonna be on TV!!”
This morning, I am a wreck. It’s about five a.m. We spent too long waiting for our laundry to dry and then had to drive all night. It took one of those Mountain Dew versions of a Red Bull to get us home alive. You are receiving this note courtesy of that drink, btw. Y’know, most of those drinks taste pretty evil, kind of like carbonated cough medicine- the Mountain Dew version doesn’t taste half bad- it tastes ALL THE WAY bad, kind of like hell’s version of a gatorade/gasoline cocktail, post-bladder-of-satan. Made me want to lick a cinderblock to scrape the taste off my tongue. But it got me up and over the hump to get here alive. Lives have been saved by beverage technology.