Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Blow me!

What’s the deal with these hurricane names anyway? Who is the lucky guy who gets paid a government salary to think up the names for the hurricanes every year and why can’t that person do a better job of it?

The names for 2008 hurricanes are as follows: Arthur, Bertha, Cristobal, Dolly, Edouard, Fay, Gustav, Hanna, Ike, Josephine, Kyle, Laura, Marco, Nana, Omar, Paloma, Rene, Sally, Teddy, Vicky and Wilfred.

We’re currently on Fay. Yes, Fay. Fearsome, devastating, earth shattering, catastrophic, frightening Fay.

A hurricane is one of the most awesome and terrifying forces of nature and the best they could do was to name it after someone’s grandmother? Fay isn’t even remotely frightening! In fact, the whole list is full of a bunch of sissy-sally names, including, of course, Sally herowndamnself! In fact, the entire list has only one scary name on it and that of course Ike, who invokes the badass motherfuckery of Ike Turner.

I guarantee some coastline is going to get bitch slapped by old Ike! But Kyle? The name Kyle inspires about as much fear as a Playboy bunny pillowfight! Hanna? Is it a stripper or a hurricane? Or is the connection supposed to be that either way you get blown?

Rene? The French Hurricane? That sumbitch is going to surrender LONG before it gets anywhere close to land!

No, I’m afraid that whomever is in charge of naming hurricanes is doing a piss poor job, which is why I think they should hire me. I would name hurricanes in a way that would properly scare the crap out of people. If I was in charge of naming them, people wouldn’t be sticking around to see if they could ride it out! You can bet that when the talking head come onto your nightly news warning you about Hurricane Fuck You Up The Ass With A Splintery Wooden Phone Pole, that you’re going to go ahead and take some damn cover!

When Hurricane Darth Vader comes to town, you can expect to be taken over by the Dark Side! When Hurricane Samuel L. Jackson hits land, you can bet that motherfucker is going to be one motherfuckin motherfucker of a motherfucking hurricane!

Hurricane Hemorrhoid will guarantee you a burning pain in the ass that just won’t seem to ever go away! Hurricane George W. Bush will last forever and leave us all up shit’s creek. Hurricane Hitler will take out the entire East Coast! Hurricane Travolta will suck all the joy from your life for two hours and leave you $10.00 less rich and having a bad case of the popcorn shits!

The point is that I can name me some hurricanes! I’m not messing around here! There will be no Nana’s or Omar’s on my watch. A hurricane is a terrifying force of nature and they should be named accordingly. At the rate we’re going here, next years names may very well be stripper themed and our cities will be wiped out by the likes of Bambi, Crystal, Portia and Roxanne!

It’s flat out embarrassing to have to say that you got beat up by someone with a sissy name. You never want to have to respond to the question, “Oh my God! What happened to you????” with an answer of, “I got knocked out by Fay.”

Fay isn’t just a girl, she’s someone’s grandma. She bakes cookies and smiles at you through crooked dentures. Fay hasn’t blown a damn thing since the 50’s. She’s not a hurricane, she’s a rainbow.

Maybe the person in charge of naming hurricanes can be reassigned to rainbow naming. In the mean time, write your local congressman and nominate me to head up the Department of Hurricane Naming and never be embarrassed by a wimpy named hurricane kicking your ass again!

(a special thanks to Jay for the idea for this entry!)


Anonymous said...

you don't think bertha is scary? i do! yikes! :) -- kate xx

PenguinsWalkAmoungUs said...

You are aware, aren't you, that your naming standards would serve a dual purpose? I mean, any Star Wars uber-geek with no life would flock to Florida to be in Hurrican Darth Vader. It would be like natural selection!

Glenn said...

That's like all the devastation that Hurricane Bob left. Because Bob knocked on the door, and people asked who it was, and he said, "Bob." So they let him in, and he violently made love to their possessions and their home. If Hurricane Adolf was at the door, people would run screaming like Rosie O'Donnell just knocked over their Hostess truck.