The big push to relocate Spinster HQ to points west has begun in earnest. I’m swamped already, but apparently there is a hurricane tearing through the Gulf of Mexico with Texas’ name on it, which really puts a hitch in my gitalong. Everyone in Austin is in a panic. The local news makes sure of that.
“Evacuate! Or stock up on beer and diesel generators!” they warn, genuflecting woodenly before swirling computer graphics with terrifying red centers. “It’s a Level 42 Megacane!”
My sister Tidy called. “I’m off to buy water and batteries.”
This makes no sense to me. Why not invest in umbrellas and rafts?
OK, we might as well get it overwith. Let’s have the blametariat’s views on collaborateuse Sarah Palin, her bridge, and her possible effects on the future of feminism.