Why the Hell is there no "drunk" mood? Sheezy, you hurt me, you hurt me deep.
Anyway, for months SA kept farting out on me, and in the meantime I have been making a webcomic (read Lacunae and I love you long time three dollah), and living in the New Orleans metro area--in one of those pasty whitebread suburbs, and we all evacuated with our stuff anyway, so no por llama because unless Rita hits us too our house and stuff is all peaches, but I am still thrown off what with the no scanner.
I won't bitch about that because I am alive and so are our cats, who have been showing their love by leaving us pukey presents under our new bed.
Also, if you are going to be an assfish about the NOLA situation, you should know that: (1) the New Orleans port is fucking vital to our national economy, (2) that is why the gas prices are going up, dicktard, and also (3) natural fucking disasters happen everywhere.
Also you deserve to be skinned alive and boiled in raw sewage if you try to blame the poor bastards in the Superdome for not evacuating. THERE ARE A LOT OF PEOPLE THAT COULD NOT EVACUATE EVEN THOUGH THEY WANTED TO.
And then they got to spend four days without air conditioning--unless you're from an area that has 90-100 F temps and 90+ humidity, you have no FUCKING idea what that's like--or toilets, or fans, or fresh food, or medical care, or security, or ANYONE TO AT LEAST COME AND TAKE AWAY THE FESTERING DEAD BODIES.
And this is why America as a country needs to keep the death penalty and apply it to bureaucratic failures, in the form of DRAWING AND QUARTERING.
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