The Storm Struck The Big Yellow House On Woodland Avenue With Great Vengeance And Furious Anger. Plastic Bags Tore Through The Streets Like Tumbleweeds On Steroids. Tree Limbs Ripped Violently From Their Trunks. Hundreds Of Disillusioned X-festers Wandered Aimlessly Along Brown Street, Given Yet Another Reason To Hate The World, Mohawks, Spiked Necklaces And Black Eye Liner Unable To Protect Them From The Howling Remnants Of Hurricane Ike. I Was Bounced Around My Front Porch With The Unpredictability Of A Charles Little Free Throw, Struggling To See Through The Flecks Of Dust Assaulting My Eyes. Then Came The Darkness...

Hour 1: I Am Alive, But There's No Telling For How Long. I Stumble About My House, A Foreigner In A Foreign Land. Desperately, I Rush To Check My Facebook Page: "the Page Cannot Be Displayed." My Knees Buckle - Panic Sets In. How Will I Know Who I Truly Am Without Google Alerts? I Am Stranded In A Desolate Wasteland, Isolated From Glorious Videos Of Sneezing Pandas And Pictures Of Britney's Lady Junk. Five Minutes Later, My Laptop Battery Dies. Too Much Activity Over A 10 Minute Span. I Bury It In Our Backyard Beneath Our Inflatable Pool. Depression Follows. Curse The Day Tangent Graced This Campus With Such Remarkable Technology!

Hour 8: Blinded By Rage, I Purchase A Can Of Gasoline And Ignite A Torch Consisting Of An Old T-shirt And A Pitching Wedge. I Arrive At The Powerhouse After Midnight, The Taste Of Vengeance Sweet. They Will Pay For Stealing My Electricity. Someone Tells Me That The Powerhouse Functions Only To Provide Students With Id Cards. I Burn It Anyway.

Hour 24: Great Success! I Find Water By Digging Into Damp Soil And Allowing The Muddy Liquid To Settle And Become Clear. I Then Realize That Fresh Drinking Water Is Not An Issue During A Power Outage. I Fill Up A Big Jug With Tap Water And Taunt The Poor Saps Over At Campus South By Slowly And Tantalizingly Pouring It On The Lawn.

Hour 50: Running Out Of Food. Considering Eating At Taco Bell. I Welcome Death... Or Cannibalism. John's Thigh Meat Would Be Moist And Tender...

Hour 62: Finally Understand The Irony Of The Darkside Being Out Of Power.

Hour 89: I Have Been Falling Asleep The Second The Sun Sets And Waking Slightly Before It Rises. My Nourishment Consists Primarily Of 6 A.m. Breakfasts At Bob Evans, Enjoyed Slowly Before Morning Mass. I Fear That I Am Aging Rapidly Into An Elderly Man. I Shudder.

Hour 116: In My Desperation, I Craft A Last-second Plan To Concoct My Own Version Of Bw3's Electric Lemonade And Sprinkle It Throughout Campus In The Hope That It Generates Power. Perhaps If I Drink Enough, I Will Become Electric Myself, And Can Restore Power With My Magical Conductive Touch...