Musings from some former inhabitants of the sprawling metropolis that is Prudhomme City

Thursday, August 28, 2008


by CajunKate

So last night I came home from class to find Alex's truck parked on the street by our mailbox instead of in the driveway. Highly unusual. I trotted in and asked him what was up with that. He replied, "Look at the pictures on your camera." At this point, I , fulfilling my role as the anxious, half-crazy Southern wife, was all, "What? What? What happened?!?!? Just TELL ME!" and he was all, "God, you need meds! It's nothing bad, doofus. Just look."

And I saw this:

Now, it's not unusual to see egrets in south Louisiana. Smallish fields...atop cows. In fact, we used to call them cowbirds when I was a kid. But finding a monster, three-foot-tall egret in your yard in the middle of the city...well, that's odd.

So, me being me, I chose to see it as an omen. And I know it has something to do with Hurricane Gustav. It's must be so, right? A huge water bird in my yard. A hurricane brewing in the gulf and seemingly intent on hitting the Louisiana coastline. This cannot be a coincidence.

With this in mind, I fired off another letter to Gustav.

(Image courtesy of NOAA)

Dear Hurricane Gustav,
While I suppose congratulations are in order regarding your graduation to hurricane status, you will not be getting a card and/or gift from me.

Here's the deal, f**ker. I think I made it exceedingly clear in my previous missive that you are NOT welcome here. NOT welcome. Despite the fact that Sista's doctor told her yesterday that her cervix was like (and I quote) the Rock of Gibraltar, and it would seem as though my niece/nephew has no plans of appearing anytime soon, and despite the fact that Sista's awesome sister Michelle has promised me a bottle of wine if I put her up during evacuation, you are NOT welcome.

See, as much as I feel relief over the fact that I will most likely not have to birth my niece or nephew in my guest room, and as much as I would enjoy free wine and getting drunk with Michelle, neither of those things is enough to mitigate the fact that YOU'RE NOT WANTED HERE!

Get it? Got it? Good! Now, shove off and go harass Florida or Texas or some other place, and leave us alone. We're still pissed off at your sister Katrina. She was a real b***h, which means you are likely to an overwhelming a**hole and /or douchebag of a hurricane.

Oh, and tell your sister Tropical Storm Hanna that she better back the f**k off, too.

With growing animosity,

No comments: