Goodnight, Irene.

Remember Sweet Summer Breeze Irene? I do.

I was enjoying a nice quiet weekend in the Berkshires while ya'll were putting boards over your windows and stocking up your bomb shelters.

I was literally out smelling flowers...

Now, I guess it's not fully your fault you became hysterical.  The weathermen in New England become bored and jealous of weathermen in Florida and other places with real hurricanes during the hurricane season.  They are at least partially to blame.

I tried to clear this up for several people.  I explained, calmly and rationally I might add, that we live in Massachusetts and don't get hurricanes.

This calmed people down for about a minute until they turned the news back on.

Just to reiterate- I was in fact out enjoying the beauty of nature while you were trying to calculate how far those canned goods would get your family before you'd have to eat someone.

Nature is fucking awesome.  Are you afraid of the dark as well?... Don't answer that.

Anyway, I slept in a tent and Richard and I went on a nature walk.

That photo should give you a good idea how THAT went.  I'd never heard someone squeal so loud when a fern touched them.  Ferns are beautiful, Richard, I'm sorry you couldn't learn to accept that.

None the less, he isn't the problem.  You are.  You and your ACCEPTANCE of whatever weathermen tell you. Seriously? Do you believe EVERYTHING you see on Fox News too?

And I don't even want to get your hatemail about how Sweet Summer Breeze Irene killed your grandmother by knocking out her power and shutting off her life-sustaining machines.  Don't even bother... 

Unless you live in Vermont.  What the fuck happened there, Vermont?  That shit was crazy.