I’m getting pretty sick and tired of the US and its constant need to one-up the UK. They have to go bigger with everything – roads, cars, foods, peoples, buildingses, more foods, hammocks. I could go on.
Taps. Beans. Other, smaller hammocks (still bigger than ours). Hands. Hams. Ratio of wars to number of years existed as a country. I’ll stop now.
Anyway, turns out they can’t just let us have our ‘one month of rain in two hours’ here in Bournemouth, and have to one-up us by having potentially one of the worst hurricanes to hit the northeastern seaboard since the early 90s/mid-80s. “Ooooh, look at us, we have to one-up you Limeys all the time”. Gits.
Say hello to what you get in place of me doing a blog yesterday: it’s the Ian looking at the news and deciding whatever’s the main headline will get blogged about hour! N.B. Not actually an hour, more a ten minutes or so.
I wasn’t ever really that scared about wind-based bad weather, for two very good reasons. One, I’m English, so I’ve never seen anything really strong – apart from the time I saw a truck on the motorway swerve a bit because of a potent gust. My life flashed before my eyes that day (it didn’t). B, I hadn’t seen this image, taken in the aftermath of the US tornado that ravaged part of the country earlier this year:
Yeah, fuck wind.
Dan, or Mike, or someone like that: explain to me how wood can pierce concrete like that. I feel this is something one of you should know.