Irene is a stupid name

The guy's in Manhattan right now are super skanky, FYI. All the good ones flew out on their private jets DAYS ago, when there were still canned goods, flashlights, and water jugs at the local bodegas...and now all we are left with are the guys who don't have even one flashlight, maybe one or two canned products, and perhaps, PERHAPS!, a pot on their stove with half a gallon of moldy water in it...how am I supposed to find a husband in that crowd?!?!

Skanks! All of them!

I hope I live through this so I can find a man....one who isn't skanky....maybe I should follow the Village Voice's advice.....then I would totally be prepared for whatever it is that Irene (that floozie) has in store for me.

And too bad the bodega only had Crenshaw melons. I hate those fucks. No melon could be worse than a Crenshaw melon. It's too big. It's too juicy. Like, 147% too juicy. It's too popular with newscasters, with their penchant for juicy melons. For the past year, the only melon I have heard about is the fuckin' Crenshaw. What about the honeydew?!?! What about the watermelon!?!?! What about the cantelope?!?!

Give me Cantelope or give me Death! That's what I say.

Skanky Crenshaw melons....they ruined my hurricane preparation.

Luckily I have thwarted the Crenshaw melon and accumulated the following hurricane preparation materials:

• two bottles of wine and one liter of vodka
  
• beef jerkey
• a flashlight and 5 candles
• 2.75 gallons of water
• an iPad, an iPhone, a MacBook Air, and a MacBook
• a well moisturized gay man's face
  
• and an internet connection to this blog

Which means that not only will I survive this hurricane, I will post here often.

Yeah!

Sincerely,

P Diddy

P.S.:

"Dear Mr. Best Ghost Ever,

Thank you for sending me the ostrich to fly me to safety. Unfortunately, ostriches can't fly and even if he could, the TSA now prohibits ostrich's in US airspace. Thanks for trying though.

p.s. I have named him Oscar and he has eaten all of my beef jerkey and face cream"