Maybe it's the dude below who was writhing in front of a TV
babette over his failure to follow "
official instructions". Maybe it was the
dancing Bigfoot on the Galveston seawall. Maybe it was just cabin fever or the feeling of being remiss in my duties as a Texan and a he-man manly man. Or maybe it was the crime-fighting
superheroness of the redhead in her waterproof boots. Whatever it was, I was overcome with the sensation of "Fuck You, Ike" and went out to
"Jeff Cooper" Western Civilizations way out of this environmental event. Screw the
internet. Screw the updates. Screw the national radars and satellites. I went out and SHOT the damn thing in the eye as it came by.
Ike is now a tropical depression. Co-incidence? I don't think so.
"There ain't many problems a man can't fix with 700.00 and a 30-06." Col. Jeff Cooper.
