Dab Junkie Beach 5: The Final Days of Emerald Isle

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We are not going to make it.
Minimal climatic destruction
the tornadoes come in batches
with tremendous frontal systems
we have fun with funnel clouds
and sympathetic storm surges.
Only to have to be rescued by the Yellow Submarine.
The impact on your structures will be increased four times.
Conditions have been worsening.
Bunkered down with the leopard head polka dot afro people.
Hamburger Hill style
the real ones the funky feel ones
lightning flashes and thunder rolls
with the on the fly apple pie
raining on the meat bags
someone asks “Can I give you Santa Claus eyebrows?” (with whipped cream)
Do you want a time out?
Hurricane schmurnnicane
Public School Strawberry Diesel
Bad rain and Dorrito eating whiskey before noon.
Whales and gusts and umbrellas left gutted
they need to be got again
Raining sideways
“You’re not gonna suitcase me are ya ?”
Deer gizzard midget forks
taint piercings
trying not to blow away
little horns blowing somewhere in the distance
I will leave these candles here for the next hurricane victims
Slide Gliderz
so far so good so what
The sad sight of a butterfly struggling in the rain
my kingdom for a good sippin liquor
that’s what the half a banana is for
We are digging him up and shitting on the corpse.
Weekend at Berny’s
Macabre. Every year we should do this
Fuck Florida and Flemmish butt bumps
The sad story of the burnt weenus
all became factors in our madcap survival
as the hurricane party raged on and the hurricane petered out
And everyone formed groups to discuss Veejazled Vs
and pondered the fate of Perquimons.
It is known that mimosas are the nectar of the Gods
when the weather exchange drama is complete
it means the magic days are almost over
Brazilian World Cup in the semis
Neymar lay broken and crying in sensuality and samba spice
United at the dance, that is universal.
We finally got a piece of the pie.
Can our heroes continue to stave off mid-nite?
Only by changing the rules to the game
You have to stay untameable, like the Lizard fish
Gluten free enzyme fish and the burnt weenus and apple pies
the giggle and wiggle
the ruby rod that knows the scarlet pussey
muddled cherries so much for the second chance.
Riderless I go out alone
With the ghosts and a solitary deer
to survey, at dawn what the storm hath wroth
I quickly had pockets full of trash
and enough seaweed to build a Gilligan’s Island house
alone I slowly wandered the predawn beaches
everything subtly resculpted
with virgin, clean, white, new, baby sand
not much of a hurricane, this time, but the excitement was still there
If only for a moment when we watched the toilet water slosh
back and forth, like the rough seas outside
or the feeling of being blown around sitting in a yellow Hummer
watching giant walls of waves and wind rush in.

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