Come on, Hurricane!

There's a hurricane headed our way.

At the moment, it's a tropical storm, goes by the name Dean. By the time it gets here Monday or Tuesday, though, it should be the real deal, a Category 3 or 4, if the meteorologists are to be believed. Of course, it may bypass the Keys completely and just head to the interior of the Gulf of Mexico. Yeah, 'cause New Orleans and the Yucatan totally need to get hit again.

The impending storm has finally managed to give us a break in the hordes of gawping tourists that plague Key West year-round. We island-dwellers are doing all the regular preparedness stuff: stocking 20 gallons of water per person (though that can hardly be enough the way Otter and I drink and cook), gathering candles, checking all the shutters for both windows and doors, dragging potential projectiles (lawn chairs and tables, and etc.) inside, making sure the genny's in good working order and has plenty of fuel and that we've got propane for the screen porch stove. Of course, we also have to make sure we have sufficient amounts of our chosen inebriants, good books we haven't read, games to play, and a 5-gallon bucket of lubricant.

Just in case.

Wait, wait, wait...the two of us, shut in for a few days with just enough power to keep food and cook it? Baby, that ain't nearly enough to keep us occupied. There's gonna be a lot of drinkin, smokin, and fuckin, and not too much ambient noise to shield my yelling from the neighbor kids.

Come onnnnn, hurricane!