camwyn | (no subject)

*glances at the Gulf*

*counts over the list of hurricane names*

*thinks for a bit*

Given the very real possibility of still having a named storm develop after Wilma, would anyone object very much if any prospective Tropical Depression / Tropical Storm / Hurricane Alpha spent its entire existence wobbling in circles and ultimately dissipating on its way over towards Iceland or something like that? I mean, its existence alone would be enough to set the record. It doesn't need to be an arsekicker.

*sigh* At this point, quite aside from the terrible urge to make comments about losing the Mandate of Heaven, I am stricken with an overwhelming urge to quote James T. Kirk in the general direction of every tropical weather system ever. And that quote is:

I

*punch*

HAVE HAD

*punch*

ENOUGH

*punch*

OF YOU.

*boot to sensitive area*

I would include another comment here, but I don't want to give the storm any incentive to come my way. (Oh- and I wouldn't be making Flintstone jokes even if I hadn't noticed that hurricanes with mocked names cause more trouble. A friend of mine's mother is named Wilma.)

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(deleted comment)

Nothin'. After Wilma they go to the Greek alphabet for names.

They could call the next one Xena.

Because then the irony gods would see to it that Hurricane Xena is a totally weak one that does absolutely no damage at all.

And Y could be Yasmin and Z could be Zahira. My college roommate was Zahira. She could be like a hurricane if you pissed her off enough.

If you're familiar with the novelisation of 'The Abyss', maybe a U.S. submarine has annoyed Those Who Build :-)

*grumble* Japan gets kaiju when it commits Acts of Nationally Questionable Technology. We get named storms. bah.

*peers* whassat word mean?

Giant rubber monsters like Godzilla or Mothra or Rodan.

I think that a yak ate the Mandate of Heaven, honestly. Either that, or it got accidentally laid down somewhere and was trampled over by a herd of war takin.

I send out the war yaks to help you kick and gore.

Excellent. I've been learning to ride and control the bike when it's got large, unwieldy burdens on board; that should help with my yak of choice.

Really, is wanting to have a chance to ride a yak into battle so wrong?

Nope! *cheerfully* Just think, riding an irritated, up-for-battle Shumagin into the fray ought to make anyone and anything RUN AND FLEE shrieking.

Shumagin: "I am in front of you. My food is behind you. If you value your life, BE SOMEWHERE ELSE."

BWAHAHAH. Exactly. Now imagine an entire herd of Shumagins. Mmm. The thought is purr-worthy.

Battle yaks! We'll even give them ARMOUR!

Where do you tie up an armored battle yak?

Pretty much anywhere...

Damn it.

I want a battle yak now.

I wouldn't be making Flintstone jokes even if I hadn't noticed that hurricanes with mocked names cause more trouble.

Er... it may be too late to hold back on the mockery, if this is the case (http://www.news8austin.com/content/top_stories/default.asp?ArID=147886).

Hurricane hunters on a routine data-gathering flight overnight into the eye of the storm recorded the lowest central pressure ever observed in the Atlantic basin since such records have been kept over the last 200 years. Sustained winds of 175 mph were clocked, making Wilma a strong category five, the most intense on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale.

U.S. Air Force aircraft crews confirmed the record value of 882 millibars on the barometer on the 7 a.m. advisory from the National Hurricane Center.

Still gonna stifle it on the grounds that I don't want to find out that Wilma's forced the scientists to come up with definitions for 'Category Six'.

Funny you should say that. I've been wondering if "Category Six" would be in line for creation, given the events of this season.

I am bitterly resigned to the fact that Wilma's going to hit Florida, and merely hope that it drops in strength before it does. I hope.

Shit! And I'm going to be in Florida this weekend!

*goes to the weather channel site to check predictions*

I hope it doesn't get too close to the offices of the National Enquirer. They'll have people taking pictures looking for Satan's Face In The Clouds, so that they can try to get some nutball to declare that the presence of Satan automatically makes it a class six, or something.