A ‘Sandy’ foot in my mouth

I used to groom myself this way when I was young. Disgusting, I know, but what I’d give to have that flexibility back.

So maybe I spoke too soon there (in my previous post) sneering at the severity of “Frankenstorm” and my neighbors’ panic in hoarding survival kits and caboodle.

As the alerts intensity, my skepticism dissipates. And now, gah, there’s no water or “D” batteries to be had anywhere within 50 miles of my home.

Lucky for you, my power will soon go out, and you won’t have to read any more of my reckless posts. I’ll be reduced to eating peanut butter, wilted lettuce … what else do we have here? Oh, nuts.

Hunker down, everyone, and stay safe.

Below, a snapshot of my TV, tuned relentlessly to The Weather Channel … the last thing I’ll see when the power goes out.

For those of you who no longer read the paper (a once-a-day updating of the news, like taking your vitamins).

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