Standing at the bus stop, listening to "Coral Fang", I watch as the sky turns from the early evening's grayish-blue to a dark and turbulent black. Dark storm clouds begin to wash out the pastels and neutrals from the sky as the wind shifts from the west. This is my favourite time.
The humidty becomes 100% more stifling as the moisture readies it grip. The look on the faces of my fellow passengers says it all. "Something wicked this way comes." I smile.
I don't care about getting caught in a downpour. I don't care about the cold hard rain ruining my clothes. I just love seeing the darkness envelop the last rays of sunlight as Mother Nature brings down her fury on us all.
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Kinda of Biblical, eh?
Nothing makes me happier than a good storm. I miss that about the MidWest. Being able to see these mammoth storms coming miles away. The open sky, the lightning, the thunder. Damn. I just get ferklempt.
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Cuando eras enano interpreto que cuando eras chico porque me parece que el tema de "tenia un cuerpo de enano pero luego en una investigacion secreta conjunta de la cia con el fbi y grupos de investigacion cientifica con bajada de linea directa del Dr. Menguele, me cambiaron el cerebro al cuerpo de un tipo de metro ochenta, musculoso y que encima se parece a Sean Penn".... la veo dificil.
Que se cuenta?