Well the asphalt roof roll came off my shed thanks to a sixty foot tree.
That tree must have ate an awful lot of greens to have such strong wind to fell itself, ents can usually handle their broccoli and birch.
Despicable of cunts like Barry to be sneering at desolation and destruction suffered by others, simply because they didn’t have it so bad up north. When I stepped out the front door on Monday AM it was like a scene from Independence Day. Next door’s For Sale sign had blown onto my lawn, one of my plant pots had fallen onto it’s side, my cat, Charlie, his fur was all roughed up, and he had a wild, crazy expression in his eyes. You could tell he had really seen some things, man. He looked like Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now.
Try and think before making facile observations in future, Barry. Lot of people here have lost almost everything, and it might be many years before we recover RIP.
I am still not sending back any of the donations you gave us in 2014 because we had a bit of weather down here
From the thread title alone, I thought this was the beginning of the serialisation of Barry Sanchez’ memoirs. Having seen that it isn’t, I’m near inconsolable at this point.
I was looking for fart jokes tbh
We will pull through this, be strong.
What is with this naming our fucking storms anyway?
I was caught out in it for about half an hour walking back from my Dad’s.
One upside I guess, when I got home all windswept and bedraggled, and Ms. Schitt commented on “the state of” me – at least I got to see the look on her face when I replied – “I know! That Katie gives one hell of a blowjob!”