Batten down the hatches ... get the family out of the house ... get your shotgun ... load up on reasonably priced Viceroy's ... drink yourself numb ... grab your fucking trumpet ... and if you've got a pistol lying around, grab that too. (You don't have to holster it ... just make sure it's nearby.)
This isn't a drill. I repeat: this is NOT a drill. We just don't know what's coming next. I wish we did ... but we don't. We don't. Go ahead and expect the worst, though. And make sure you're goddamn ready. Make sure you're in position.
Me? I'm already there. Been there all day. So fuck you
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This probably won't end well.
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