The Collegiate Guide to Surviving Hurricanes

By staff writer Nathan DeGraaf

I've been through three hurricanes, lost power for a combined ninety-seven hours and spent four deliciously drunk days wandering the streets, dodging downed power lines, and eating anything I could find that was a) warmer than me and b) didn't bite back. In the process, I have learned quite a bit about hurricane survival. So, because I am a helpful and earnest young man, I will share what I have learned with you…provided you aren't the asshole who took the last case of Bud Light from the University of South Florida Exxon during Charley.

Some people (and by people, I mean land-owners) will tell you that you need the following to survive a hurricane: a gas generator, plywood, bleach, a supply of water, candles, batteries, dry goods and a first aid kit. This is all well and good if you have a family or a house to protect, but for the average single male (renting) you really only need the following: two bags of ice and a cooler, one case of beer, a car with a full tank of gas, a carton of cigarettes and $200 in cash. You need the gas so you can leave, the cold beer so you can stay, the cash because debit cards don't work when there's no electricity, and the carton of cigarettes in case you run out of cash. (I have traded cigarettes for food, candles and porn over the course of the last six weeks.) Of all the aforementioned items, beer is the most important, so naturally, we need to spend a paragraph or two exploring its tasty grandeur.

Beer is your best friend. Without it, you will be forced to face the reality that you have no electricity, no running water and no emergency personnel to prevent you from murdering your neighbor (who has a generator and won't share). If you stay drunk enough, you can enjoy the hurricane, but beware: once the power goes out, you need to make sure that you’re buying quality beer. And by quality beer, I mean warm beer. Allow me to explain.

It's a simple equation: the beer gets cold (in the store's refrigerator), then gets warm (when the power goes out), then gets cold again (in your cooler), then tastes bad (in your mouth). After a power outage, you must make sure that you buy only beer that has never been refrigerated. This way, you will not have skunky beer. Also, do not believe any clerk when they tell you that their beer either did not get warm or never was cold before the hurricane. Hurricane deductibles are expensive and these bums will do whatever they can to make a buck. And believe me, if you're dumb enough to purchase it, they're smart enough sell it to you. Jerks. Anyway, once you've purchased your warm beer and cold ice, it’s time to find a party.

Me: Okay, fine. I'm leaving. But if I die in this Category 2 storm, then it's on your head.
Guest 1: That's like, attempted murder, Kicker Outer.
Guest 2: Yeah dude, you don’t want him to go.
Kicker-Outer: Alright, you can stay, but if I catch you with my wife and sister again…

But hurricane parties aren't the only parties during a hurricane. After the hurricane party, before the power comes back on, and after the necessary cleanup from the storm blast, it's time for the bad meat party. During a bad meat party, you and all your powerless neighbors get as much Charcoal and beer as you can find, throw together a neighborhood worth of grills and eat risky meat until you vomit.

And that's really all there is to it. Hurricanes are much like college: If you stay drunk enough, throw enough parties, and get on enough girls, you barely notice that the storm (or the school, for that matter) is even there. Remember, success is always measured in the wake of destruction.