As most of my readers know by this point, I as your ranting loud-mouth blogger, reside in Central Florida. Which means for the past 2 weeks I and everyone around me have been dealing with the now historic Category 5 Hurricane Irma. Which means my neck of the woods got slammed pretty good by the time that bitch went down to a Cat 1. But before I go any further….lemme back up a week and go about how Floridians actually got shook by this bitch of a hurricane.
A couple of weeks ago, I was a mere mild-mannered recently-engaged blogger who is currently working both part-time as a custodian in a Youfit Gym in Brandon, Fl while at home I talk about jamz and look for any opportunity as a contributing free lance writer to anyone willing to take a gamble with my big mouth. I had also dealt with coming back from an appointment at my nearest VA hospital in Tampa which I was told I would be going in for to remove a rather literal pain-in-the-ass cyst removal via surgery. My doctor was nice enough to give me a nice-sized bottle of Percocet which means I’ve probably been buzzed/high since then. On September the 4th, Florida State Governor and cancer patient/Valdemort-looking bitch, Rick Scott, declared state of emergency and told everyone to start getting the fukk out of Florida? My initial reaction was usual in typical Me-fashion whenever that cancerous-looking bitch opens his mouth:
:NOTE: Was not wearing bullet belt when first heard about State Of Emergency btw
Seeing how for the past 12-13 years Florida has not had one serious hurricane, I wasn’t immediately fretting. That was until my fiancee gave me that worried look and she told me to look on the local news. I saw with my own eyes that it was a Category 5 and 400 miles in diameter. My first thought that popped into my dazed and dank mind was “Yeah dude you might want to listen to her.” So I said to her “Ok, let’s keep our eyes on the news and track this sucker and see how bad it gets.” To give you a cliff note version of the next few days….it’s steadily went from bad to worst. Gas Stations begin raising and gouging their prices to just now there being absolutely no gas what-so-ever. Didn’t even bother looking for bottled water. Flashlights were another rare commodity as well as food and duct-tape. But the worst aspect of the total experience was seeing people good into panic-mode while they are on the road behind the wheel.
TFW PEOPLE ARE MANIAKKS ON THE ROAD
Yesterday I did managed to stop by a couple spots and scavenge some much-needed supplies, so that made me feel rather confident that I could hunker down and ride this sucker out. But, what about jamz? If the power goes out….what would I do without music to listen to??? Then it hit me: LISTEN TO SADISTIK FUKKING EXEKUTION AND TELL THAT FUKKING KUNT OF A HURRIKANE TO GO FUKK ITSELF. FUKKING KUNT!!!! What better band to blast during a chaotic Category 5 Hurricane than the equally destructive and kaotic Sadistik Exekution?!?!?!?! The perfect plan….ok outside of actually listening to my fiancee and putting down the awnings and shit, but riding out a hurricane with Percocet in my system and blasting the almighty Aussies? FUKK YEZZZ!!!
FUKKING KUNTS! FUKK!!
It all made perfect sense to me. Their music is about as loud as a hurricane. And just overall a giant mess to deal with so I said “Fukk it. I’m going to go listen to their entire discography as a way to pass the time.” I had been slightly pinged due to the chaos of everyone running outside like chickens with their heads cut off so I put on their first album “The Magus” to start the process.
On top of listening to jamz by the mentally-deranged Aussies, I started to become a bit fukked in the head myself so then I decided to do something really fukked and go outside during the hurricane and taunt hurricane Irma in typical Florida Man style!
Yes, that is me you’re favorite online ranting loudmouth redneck from Florida telling Hurricane Irma to go fukk itself. Btw, I was completely sober when I did this, believe it or not.
After some hours went by the winds picked up even more until the wall of the hurricane started plowing through my neck of the woods. The electricity went out and I had to start lighting candles in my house. The winds were blowing so hard that it blew my front door open about 4 or 5 times through the night. And the sheer NOIZE of those winds. Lemme tell ya, Hurricane Irma was putting up a good fight outside. On top of all this and the door being blown open and me having to hold the door closed by the handle, I was getting a bit tense. I won’t lie about that. So then I remembered “Oh shit I have a bottle of good high-grade Oxycodone on the table. I WILL NOT DIE SOBER!.” So I rushed over to the table and popped a few Percs to keep me calm during the hurricane. While doing so, the door blew open again. This KUNT meant serious business.
This is basically Hurricane Irma summed up in one song
Time passes by and I started feeling the effects of those Percocet. After the eye of the wall passed over my house and things began to quiet down outside, I started getting rather drowsy and decided to crash on my couch. A few hours later I woke up at the crack of dawn, blurry eyed and groggy and my fiancee and I opening up our front door to gauge the damage done. Here’s what a merely simple Category 1 Hurricane can do to your surroundings when you piss it off enough.
DON’T COME TO FLORIDA BTW.
Now I gotta clean this shit up. FUKK!
Now that I’ve given you a nice little visual of what it’s like to deal with a Florida hurricane. Imagine all of this destruction plus on top of having NO electricity. NO wifi. And worst of all; NO air-conditioning meaning I’m sweating my hairy ass off 24/7 and even when I tried to catch a few hours of sleep at night. My fiancee and I stayed at my house a good 2 or 3 days before I looked at her and said “We’re getting a hotel room.” Which we had to because I had cyst surgery to be done the next day and keep my wound clean and disinfected. It was an ironic musing twist that I have to go through all that hurricane shit just to put under the knife and get massively doped-up in the hospital, but goddamn was it worth it. After coming out of surgery and be given pain medication to take with me and having the week off from work, I basically went back to my hotel room I was staying at with my sweet-heart and proceeded to do the ONLY thing I could physically do at that time: GET FUKKED UP!!!
NEVER STOPP THE FUKKING MADNESS!!!!
But the story doesn’t quite end there. The following few days I learned that an out-of-state contracted electrician damn near started an electrical fire to my house which completely fried my meter box. Dealing with that and having to get a hold of my local city’s actual electrician only to be told “You need a private electrician/contractor to replace your meter box, weather mane and weather head.” Well that put a damper on my quest to come back home from the hotel. Somehow, someway, my fiancee and I managed to do so and restore electricity and A/C back into my 1950’s concrete bunker-built house. I’m just happy I can say that I can now officially get chill in my own living room while typing this.
If this story sounds a bit like somewhere between “Wolf On Wall Street” and “True Detective” in the level of insanity, drugs, and all-around destructive force of mother nature then yeah you would be right. Life itself is generally chaotic, especially mine. If anything I learned from Sadistik Exekution and this damn hurricane is that at 34 years of age I’ve grown to accept it. Because I live in Florida and I am a certified Florida Man and quite honestly….I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t know what fucking normal is or how to deal with it. So until the next completely FUKKED moment happens in my life as a Floridian, I’ll simply leave you all with a nice hearty McConaughey-esque “Alright, alright, alright” gesture.
P.S. Stay away from Florida. Don’t come down here.