Mother Fuckin' Nature!

The drive from Los Angeles to S.F. normally takes about five + hours. This time the trip it took nearly ten. A major accident had traffic crawling along at three miles an hour for the beginning of my haul. The rain was pounding down and had helped a big rig truck to collide with another truck. The front of the truck had snapped off from it's wheels and landed upside-down. It was not your run-of-the mill fender bender. A bit up the I5 freeway was a van mashed into the dividing rail. The rain was hitting the ground in buckets, which slowed traffic enough for me to see police hand-cuff a man and stuff his large frame into the back of a police car. So three hours into the trip and I was only 50 miles outside of L.A.

I stopped into the gas station to fill up my car and unfill my bladder. I went into the little food mart store and the scene looked like something out of a Tokyo subway station at rush hour. Close to a hundred people were lined up to use the 2 rest rooms. It was madness and I wasn't willing or able to wait. I walked outside in my rain jacket and saw a row of bushes. I hustled up the hill and answered nature's call. In the short time it took to take a wizz my pants were completely drenched with the vertical rain that was whipping around. I zipped up and justled back to my car. Just as I that's when I lost my footing slipped bashed my chest, knee and hand on the slick pavement. I was already feeling self-conscious for having just watered the bushes and now I was fully humiliated as I'd taken a spill. Worse was the fact that I continued to slide down the hill face down. I got to my feet and look around to see if anybody had witnessed my pitiful aquatic ballet. Nobody had, but I had bruised my ribs. I got back on the road and things were moving and then the rain let up for a few minutes. The wind was blowing my car all over the road and I thanked the sweet baby Jesus that I'd taken Penny's BMW and not my 1990 Honda P.O.S.

So hurray no rain, the ground in this area of the interstate was actually dry. It was still hard to see but at least the road wasn't slick. That's when a huge cloud of dust blew up and made visibility zero. I get a rain storm, traffic jam, piss related rib injury and a fucking dust storm. I was thinking seriously of going back, but I'm stupid and stubborn and my mom would have been disappointed. After a fit of rapid-fire cursing at the top of my lungs I felt much better. I reminded myself that I hadn't been hit with a 30 foot wall of water like the now 400,000+ and climbing Tsunami victims who've been killed and the tens of millions of people who had their homes and lives and families swept away by mother fucking nature. I wondered if my sis Kylie was enjoying her Thailand vacation among all that chaos. Boohoo me, poor Krankiboy. That made me feel like a royal dick. However once I did get to San Fran and searched for over an hour to find a parking spot I was almost hoping the big one would hit and the earth would swallow me up. I take that back, I don't think it's a good week to taunt Mother Fucking Nature. In fact I'd like to point out to Ms. Mo-Fo-Nature that I am kind to creatures big and small and I go out of my way to recycle. So Mother Nature, if you're reading this blog please don't kill me or my friends and family. I promise to bear in mind what a tiny speck I am in the big scheme of things. You know, except on my birthday and stuff.