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Monday, November 11, 2002


Bunker Mentality Dept.

Notes from a weekend hiding from the Storm of the Century: West Coast Edition (SOTC:WCE)

Saturday, Nov. 9

Returned from local Ralphs with disaster supplies: 12 cases of Arrowhead bottled water (don't want a "water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink" situation), five bottles of Ketel-One vodka (as promised in previous post), 25 cans of tuna, 20 loaves of white bread, three wheels of that cheese with the picture of the cow on it, discount VHS tapes (Big Top Pee-Wee, My Girl 2, Billy Blanks' Tae Bo: Master Class), five bags of leftover fun-size Halloween Milk Duds, ten rolls Charmin toilet tissue. And, for reasons still not clear to me, a copy of Lucky, the magazine all about shopping. Nearly killed on roads on the way home. Cars stall in middle of intersection, panicked LA drivers run screaming into street while fumbling with automatic umbrellas, causing delays of up to three hours for trips to corner markets. I submit to hysteria and trade my car for homeless guy's piece of cardboard with manifesto scribbled on it. I use it for headcover. Getting groceries home was a bitch.

Rain still steady, can see drops disrupting surface tension of the pool. Finally finished duct-taping the windows in prep for gale-force winds, even though all windows face enclosed pool area. Can't risk some sort of water spout from unpredictable wind currents ripping out the glass. Close vertical blinds, leaving one slat askew to watch drops in pool.

Severe drizzle relentless, seems to be gaining momentum. Finished making and Saran-wrapping 10 tuna sandwiches. Placed each sandwich in own brown paper bag in fridge, individually labeled with time assigned for consumption. Ate first sandwich and small triangle of the happy cow cheese three hours ahead of schedule. Loud noise from exterior was possible sound of distant thunder or something heavy falling at nearby construction site. Probably thunder. This could get ugly.

Awake to snow on television--fell asleep in first ten minutes of Big Top Pee-Wee. But it's OK, saw it in theater in 1988. Discover Red Bull and vodka cocktail goes surprisingly well with second, ahead-of-schedule tuna sandwich (henceforth known as AOSTS). Stick hand out window, it gets wet. Rain still rules the West Coast after sundown.

Unplug phone to avoid possibility of electrocution during inevitable lightning strike. I've heard too many stories about housewives being tossed across the room by an unfortunate bolt to fuck with the fates on this one. Also turn off cellphone out of scientifically dubious fear same thing will happen with microwaves because of magnetic interference by SOTC:WCE. You know, one day I'm going to need this brain for something.

I am not proud of myself.

All TS have been consumed AOS. Am able to ignore distended belly by drinking more Red Bull and vodka cocktails, then worked off some of the buzz with Tae-Bo video and vomiting fit.

Trip to window reveals that the rain has stopped. The pool has not even overflowed.

Feelings of betrayal set in. I plug in phone, make a couple of calls, and am walking out to a bar. Will confront homeless man with my car tomorrow. I still have his manifesto, which will be somewhat less soggy in the morning. Should be an even trade.

Sunday, Nov. 10

Apologies are in order. Maybe my coverage of this weekend's storm was slightly hasty. The four horsemen returned to the Hell Ranch, as today was sunny and about 75 degrees.

I retrieve my car with the help of an understanding police officer who doesn't need to be briefed on the vagaries of our swap deal. All I can tell him, it looked like a gun in the rain. The officer understands completely.

I see a woman rub SPF 50 on her chihuahua. Order has been restored in Los Angeles.

About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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