With Hurricane Sandy’s road trip preparing to crash the East Coast, they’re already estimating a kazillion dollars worth of damage before the first punch is thrown. I mean, like . . . no pressure, Sandy.
The storm is predicted to be bigger than Pablo Sandoval and uglier than the presidential race. So I shopped like it was Noah’s Super Bowl party.
The food groups? Be covered . . .
Vegetables: Frozen Pizza
Milk: Chocolate Bars
Meat: Plenty of it
What is it about storms that brings out the cheat in our diets? Outside of the holidays, storms are the only time when stocking up on milk, bread and eggs is perfectly acceptable. It’s our dietary detente- a peaceful nod to carbs and cholesterol.
Anyways, I was turned on to a different kind of hurricane in the form of Kendra Morris. I have a fictional character named Kendra going on, and the real life version is eerily similar.
Fictional Kendra is a moody hot mess of blue jeans and hot pink accessories, with a thousand closet changes added in to the mix just to keep you waiting. She can wear heels to do laundry and sneakers to a five star joint. She changes her mind on the fly and lets you pay for it, each and every time. Her kiss is like drowning in a crush of chocolate covered strawberries, her dance is a moving violation, her touch is a velvet hammer. She’ll love you good, but don’t get married to the idea that it’ll end with french toast in bed.
The fury of a storm is tempered by this lovely sounding creature on a Sunday morning’s tab.