Big Kahuna Survives Snowmaggedon
After living in the same place for twenty two years you get a little tired of the weather boogeyman going on the radio and television and huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf. I’ve lost count of how many killer storms and tornadoes they have warned us against, and then…and then…they never happened.
But the warning they handed out starting last Tuesday night actually came to pass on Friday, when Mother Nature started dishing out the snow at a rate of about one inch per hour, until in my neighborhood we had somewhere in the range of about thirty four inches on the ground. The last time this happened here was in 1989 or 1990, when we got about twenty two inches, and the entire area was paralyzed for days, which is pretty much what’s going on here now.
The federal government is shut down, (you’ll hardly notice the difference), the county is shut down, all the schools are closed, and power is out in a number of areas very close to me, where power lines are above ground, and freezing and falling to the ground.
The solution to all this is quite simple. We need to send a private plane for Fat Al Gore, and bring him here for a chat on global warming. All that hot air, (backed up by the best phony data available), will melt about half the snow pack, which is important because another storm is heading our way, with the promise of dumping an additional twelve to twenty inches of winter wonderland on us.
Fat Al can bring in Ed Begley Jr, Leonardo de Caprio, and all the Hollyweirdoze he wants, and we’ll just attach them to the front of the plows with a bunch of peer review studies that they can recite, which will generate enough heat to clear the roads without any sand or salt. (That would be wasting precious resources.)
Or maybe we can all just move to Southern California, to Ed Begley’s neighborhood, where the sun is always shining, and build solar powered cement ponds, where we can raise sustainable aquaculture, and plant bamboo to build our huts with. We’ll all just drop off our chamber pots at Ed’s place, because he’ll know what to do with an abundance of natural fertilizer.
This is what happens to a great mind when it’s forced to stay home because there is nowhere to go. (I knew I never should have traded in the four wheel drive SUV, which is the only vehicle on the streets today.)
There was this email I received Friday, which had me chuckling as I read it, about a Kahunanite who turned herself into Obi Wan Kanobi by using the force of the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton on yet another dog who skipped out on Dog Whisperer 101. Granny is 64, and her daughter gave her the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton as a birthday present last year, not to train bad dogs, but as a mook deterrent, because her neighborhood ain’t the best.
Granny had done a little grocery shopping, and was on her sidewalk when the mutt decided he wanted some of what was in the bags for dinner. Granny warned him away, swinging one of the bags at him, but he was determined to get what smelled delicious. He lunged again, and Granny decided to get into the phone booth and change. She brought the Stun Baton out of her purse, clicked the button, and when Rover made his move, she made hers.
Rover wasn’t sure what happened, but he didn’t want any food after that. One of Granny’s neighbors came to help, and they both watched the hound run until he was out of sight. The neighbor thought there was something almost biblical about Granny zapping the mutt, sort of like Moses lifting his staff to part the sea. (It was Moses, wasn’t it? I’m not exactly up on my Bible stories.)
http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/telescopicstunbaton.htm
Mooks, dogs, ghosts, gremlins…none of them stand a chance against the Stunmaster Telescopic Stun Baton.
Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.
Aloha kaua,
Nui (Big) Kahuna
