A Guide for New Yorkers Experiencing Their First Hurricane:
The Rude Pundit has been through five hurricanes that he can remember, like one insane night escaping Houston as Alicia was bearing down on the city in 1983, driving for six hours as the storm hit each town just after we made it through. And Alicia did a shitload of damage (including messing up the downtown hotel we had just abandoned). Growing up in Louisiana and Florida, you laugh at tropical storms and treat hurricanes with respect, listening to the hype and rolling your eyes because it's rarely as awful as they threaten it will be.

So he feels like he can offer some advice to New Yorkers who are filling their shopping carts with canned tuna and toilet paper:

1. If you're told to evacuate, evacuate. You think they're doing so for the joy of a gigantic traffic jam? Get the fuck out.

2. It is not cool or extreme to stand outside during the storm. Weather people do it because they get paid. The world is divided between people who got murdered by falling tree limbs and flying debris while "yee-haw"-ing at the sky and the rest of us.

3. Floods are not ironically filthy fun pools. They are foul, garbage-filled, shit-containing rivers of poison. But it's cute to watch the rats drown. Ditto hobos.

4. Candlelight for romance is awesome. Candlelight for reading sucks hard.

5. Days without power do not add up to a good time for all. You might think it'll be just like camping. You might think you'll just wanna do coke and fuck your boyfriend all the time. You might hope for some family bonding time over board games. That's good for a day. By the second day without power in August, you will despise everyone you ever loved. You will contemplate killing the stinky sweatballs who occupy your studio apartment. By the third day, you'll sit still, pissing yourself, hoping for the sweet kiss of death, thinking that you're such a pussy because your ancestors could do this just fine.

6. If you decide to loot, go for small items. You just look stupid trying to carry a TV through the water.

7. In the aftermath, all the shit and debris and dead rats that were in the flood will be in the street. Make sure you drive or walk on it to grind it down to the patina of dirt that covers everything anyways.

8. The upside: new stories to tell at the beer gardens and wine bars for the next couple of years. And it's way better than your dumbass earthquake tale.