Friday, September 23, 2005

THE TALE OF TWO WEATHERMEN AND ONE COLLASAL 'CANE



This is John Robinson (who my wife has always affectionately referred to as "Skeleton Boy"). He was my local weatherman growing up for, well, as long as I can remember. Pretty sharp. Experienced. Trusted. And professional. But not very gangsta. I spotted him back in Lubbock one time driving a Volvo stationwagon. Not that Volvo's aren't nice cars. In fact, their probably ideal for a medium-market meterologist. It says "safe" and "sterile"--like the Tom Hanks of the Weatherman World. Some people like this, however, if there's anything to be gained by two insane storms pounding our coasts, I've been introduced (as many others have) to some incredible and dynamic weathermen. Firstly, there's the aforementioned Amazing Orlando who taught us all we wanted to know about "street cops" and "debris" and now (get ready for a shocking juxtaposition) our boy Joe Bastardi:




Check this muddah out. Man, what a freakin hunk (in the most heterosexual of senses, of course). That's not a weatherman, that's a WEATHERHULK. And as anyone who grew up with a last name containing the word "bastard" with only one additional letter situated at the end, knowing the ridicule this kid got growing up, can play for my team any day. C'mon, Joe, let's go pillage the village! Anyhow, Rita is about two hours from making full landfall. Lessened in power, but still throwing some serious winds into Beaumont. Houston might have been spared the worse of it, but b'lee dis, it's gonna flood deep down in Houston.

Just disappeared into the bedroom to watch a little 'cane footage when my brother queued me. He said Shep (who I call "Smitty") had his feet taken out from under him. I'm having to go to the bedroom because my lovely wife had to take a "break" from the Rita footage. We got Baby Ray and Jacko over (that'd be Jace, my brother-in-law) and we're watching I "heart" Huckabees. Seems to be a pretty good flick, but I'm already too far behind because I'm typing on THEROOTDOWN.

I'm watching Rita so I don't watch baseball. And now, I'm watching a movie so I don't watch Rita. It's like going from wanting a beer to drinking O'Doul's. And then moving from O'Doul's to ranch dressing. Where's my Shiner?

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

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TX said...

this jerkstore beat me to the first comment...that's brutal. nice pick of Bastari Boy.

j3 said...

anonymous,

sounds like great way to end myself up in a trailer park down by the canyon. i think i'll pass.

get a real job.

j3 said...

I beat you to it, but fell asleep early last night. I passed out around 11:00 watching Rita footage. I just didn't have the energy I did for Katrina. Sorry, bud. Glad I'm not out in East Texas right now.

Clint and Deslyn, hope you all are doing well in Nac. Hang in there.

sarahsmile3 said...

A long time ago, when I worked at a the dry cleaner place, John Robinson came in to pick up his snazzy suit. That 10 pounds that the tv adds works in favor for this fella as he looked like a wisp of a man in real life. He told me I was pretty though, so I will always think of him with affection.