We’re going to get slammed tomorrow. I am trying to get a consensus on the snowfall projections. It looks like it’s either 12-18″, 18-24″, or more than 24 inches. Two feet. Crap.
In other words, it’s a Five French Toast Slices storm.
Someone at work today asked if we all had our French Toast supplies (eggs, milk, bread). Someone else sent a link to the French Toast Alert System. I am overwhelmed with glee over having this in my life now.
The site has a storm alert rating based on slices of French Toast:
Tomorrow’s storm is waffling between 4 slices and 5 slices. Either way, Harvey Leonard is happy, and old ladies are getting run over in the supermarket milk section.
It’s chaos out there, and it hasn’t even started yet.
Hold on to your butts, kids.
Inside the Red Head's Head 