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We’re Not Dead (But We Smell Like We Are)
We made it through Hurricane Isaac safe and mostly sound. Though to be honest, our 150-year-old house was accused of doing the Macarena in those 90 mph winds more than once. The doors were blown open five or six times throughout the night, and at one point it took three of us just to get one shut again.
I’m not gonna lie. It was scary.
But only half as scary as most of us in Louisiana smell right now. Which is to say, we haven’t had power for three days. I can stand a cold shower as well as the next 14-year-old walking ball of hormones; it’s not that. No, the problem is that today is going to be 105 degrees with the heat index, and 60% of the state has no power. Basically, we all smell like walking, talking tuna melts.
Yum.
There’s no end in sight for our power problem, and only a few places in town have working internet again. So if you’re reading this, please be a dear and click the hell out of those ads on the screen because daddy has bills to pay whether or not the planet is conspiring to keep me from my modern marvels like wifi, ceiling fans and iced coffee. (Will there ever be iced coffee again?!)
But how has our nightmare been for youuuu throughout the rest of the country? Have you learned how to say Tangipahoa? Plaquemines? Have you read anything about Britney Spears single-handedly saving the entire population of Kentwood, Louisiana? Do you know the difference between a Parish and a County yet? Did you catch that clip of Mayor Landrieu denouncing Isaac for having no personality and being rude? Because let me tell you, we rolled our eyes so hard they threatened to tip the earth off of its axis.
We love you, we miss you, blah blah blah. But mostly, I just wanted to tell you we’re not dead (though I have a feeling a tens of thousands of marriages will be if we don’t get power back soon).
Smooch,
Kevin
P.S.- You can follow our adventures on Instagram at @bootys, @worldli and my usually neglected personal account, @ikevinfarrell.



