T.S. Alberto dumped about four inches of rain on us, blew a few trees over, and lifted the roof from a motel on our beach, but otherwise did little more than give the TV news clowns a chance to practice their hysteria.
Time was, a serious journalist wanted to send reports back from whatever war we had going on. That seems to be out of favor, not to mention more dangerous than ever. Now they want to be live on camera, one arm wrapped around a palm tree, with hair, coat and legs blowing downwind while telling us how dangerous it is out there. Puh-leeeze. Give us el breako.
I don't want TV weather guys in my face. What I really want is a FEMA debit card with some of my hard-earned federal tax money on it. They are apparently easy to get. Use a fake name, fake social security number, and a P.O. box address, and you too can obtain a little extra cash (at $2,000 per card) for hurricane relief necessities such as plastic surgery, expensive booze, season tickets for a football team, diamond jewelry, and overseas vacations. You say you are already in jail, and were at the time of the hurricane? No problem, man. Some of your fellow jailbirds have already obtained their unfair share.
Meanwhile, thousands upon thousands of genuine hurricane victims are still waiting for FEMA relief assistance which, I promise you, will never come.
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