A storm is on its way. The first of the season. His name is Chris. How do I know since I do not read the "weather" part of the paper?

My dad of course. Mr. Weatherman brought home all the maps, trayectories, satellite images, you-name-it-he-brought-it, home.

He called my office today: Have you seen the latest proyections?? I hope we get a lot of wind!!

WTF? Are you a moron??

I hope we do get a lot of wind, so I can tie you to the electricity post out front.
How you like them apples?

****
Empress called, talking to me about some music biz she wants to do with me...
I tell her that there are other priorities, like "Chris" right now?
Her take:

"Who the fuck is Chris?"