socially conscious bird » hurricanes

Sway with the breeze

Casey — Sun, 25 Feb 2007 19:56:24 +0000

I never noticed before, but from my windows in the distance you can see two very tall, very skinny pine trees. They have no needles until you get about 150 feet in the air. They’re swaying kind of violently now. My across the street neighbors are pretty lucky that we don’t get hurricanes very often here in Gainesville, because I could literally knock down those trees with an oscillating table fan. I would just need a pretty long extension cord.

Kyle is the straightest guy I know

Casey — Sat, 04 Sep 2004 21:01:27 +0000

Bluddvayne: Casey like a hurricane just blows my heart away
every time he comes around again,
leadin’ me just far enough to hope that he might stay,
then he’s gone just like the wind.
I met him when the world began, or was it last July
down on the Corpus Christi Bay?
He left me in the drivin’ rain, and Casey like a hurricane
just blows my heart away.

Casey like the summer stars that shine on Port Aransas,
with him calypso cowgirl eyes,
when he dances on the sand the stars dance all around him,
you can hear them sizzle in the sky.
I’ve loved him like a baby girl and like a woman too,
I’ve loved him more than words can say.
He leaves me in the drivin’ rain, and Casey like a hurricane
just blows my heart away.

Hurricane Casey blows in and out of my life
like a summer cold and a winter warm.
Hurricane Casey knows just how to turn me
and lead me into the eye of the storm.

Casey like a fast train leavin’ town on Sunday mornin’,
he just leaves you standin’ thime
wonderin’ which way to go to get out of the storm
that is surely gathimin’ somewhime.
I try hard to forget him but I just can’t go to sleep
with him perfume on the pillow whime I lay.
He leaves me in the drivin’ rain, and Casey like a hurricane
just blows my heart away.

He leaves me in the drivin’ rain, and Casey like a hurricane
just blows my heart away.

BathingInEggnog: thanks

Bluddvayne: np

Riding the storm out

Casey — Thu, 02 Sep 2004 21:00:38 +0000

Dear Hurricane Frances,

While I know that you’re wreaking havoc and destroying much that lies in your path, I would like to extend a warm welcome to Florida. I know that you’re getting a bad wrap about all the damage you cause; I understand that it’s your nature to spin and release fury upon all who dare to build their lives upon the feeble sands in the tropics, and I respect that you have the inalienable right to remain a hurricane, even in the midst of such animosity against you influenced by the biased media.

This letter is probably different than others you’ve received as of late, in that its intent is neither to disgrace your very nature nor to beg your mercy, but to thank you for all you do for us. Only you would have the genius to strike at such an opportune time for Pinellas County schoolchildren. Your welcome party coupled with Labor Day awards us with a four day weekend. You, my friend, are an asset to societal schedules, and for this, I thank you. Hurricane Frances, you are my friend.

Love,
Casey

P.S. While I respect your power, I don’t particularly want to be negatively affected by it. May I suggest Cuba? Nobody likes Cuba.

Charley in Charge

Casey — Thu, 12 Aug 2004 20:54:51 +0000

After a day of everyone inwardly hoping that it is for real, that indeed the storm surge would be 10-14 feet in Tampa Bay, and that indeed they wouldn’t have to go to school tomorrow, their wish came true.

Now it’s amusing to see the same people who were hoping for Charley’s landfall having to evacuate. Right click, info, and viola! Complaints about the mandatory evacuation of 650,000 people in Pinellas and Hillsborough County alone litter the away messages of many of my low-lying friends in evacuation zones A, B, and C.

All I have to say is:
Ha ha!

Oh, and don’t die and all that jazz. I’ll see you all Monday, barring another treat from the tropics.