Well, that was a joke. Houston flipped its lid over Rita, and the only thing that happened was a 72-hour traffic jam, a few downed tree limbs and power outages, and a lot of bad news reporting. Even tropical storm Allison was more imposing and damaging. I feel really badly for everyone north and east of here that got fucked over; it really seemed like this big one was meant for us.
Anyway, riding out the anticlimatic storm was amusing enough, and nothing happened to my apartment. Didn't even lose power, though my brother unfortunately did. Poison Girl stayed open, so we had a drink there after cruising around the damp ghost towns that were Montrose and downtown. Dave shot some footage of the ride, which I hope to watch soon.
So, there you have it. A dull report of an equally dull non-event. Or, more accurately, a dull non-event from where I was standing. I'm sure everyone who actually suffered from it would say otherwise, but hey, I'm not speaking for them, am I?
All right, I'm tired. Adios.
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