Listen up y’all: storms and hurricanes and all other ish in that realm get named for some reason (don’t ask me what that reason is, I’m an English major, not a weatherman) and the next big tropical storm anticipated to hit Puerto Rico (can we give them a break already?) is named Karen.
Normally storms get these common-yet-terrifying names meant to emphasize their destructive potential.
Katrina; Dorian; Donald Trump, see the trend?
To the untrained eye, Karen is simply a random female name shared by literally every single one of our moms and that blonde one from Mean Girls .
However, the Millenial mind knows Karen to her core. We all have a Karen in our lives. We know Karen—better than Karen knows herself.
Buckle up buddy boys, cause I’m about to spill more truth tea than the Boston Tea Party.
Some names are just names, and some names have a legacy , you feel me?
We all know our ex-boyfriend, Brad: Champion shirts, a weird tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon; drops his laundry off at his mom’s house to get washed; can’t drive stick; relates to Rick Grimes on The Walking Dead ; has never once in his life been witness to a female orgasm, nor contributed to the creation of one.
If I ask you if you know Brad, it doesn’t matter which Brad I mean. You know Brad .
Let me re-introduce you to Karen.
Here are some collective Karen traits:
Between 42 and 56 years old; Drives a Dodge Grand Caravan; 3.9 children, all of whom play soccer; Kate Gosselin haircut; Bad tipper; Didn’t vote because “it doesn’t matter anyway”; Drinks Wild Vines flavored wine; Has a ‘Live; Laugh; Love’ wall in her living room; “I’d like to speak to the manager.”
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See? We all know Karen.
When Tropical Storm Karen’s route was predicted and announced online, the internet just couldn’t handle it.
Karen is a shapeshifting monstrosity, like, did y’all ever watch the show Lost where that guy (you know, the one with no name who was Jacob’s brother who like steals the old guy’s body) turns into smoke and makes that crazy noise but is like, both human-ish and traveling monster island smoke at the same time?
That’s kinda like this.
The more I think about it, a Tropical Storm named Karen is actually way scarier than like, a storm named Sarah or something.
Y’all never wanna be caught in line at Starbucks behind Karen and her Venti non-fat no-sugar six pumps of mocha soy macchiato spritzer with Jon Gosselin’s blood inside.
Twitter in particular was having a field day.
And we know Karen brought those coupons into Sears knowing damn well that they expired in 2017 but watched one episode of that TLC extreme couponers show and decided she needed to buy enough Campbell’s soup to prep for the apocalypse.
Is it sad that this is an actual threat to land and lives and yet we can’t take it seriously because its name is Karen?
Things are about to get wet , although the only wet Karen has ever known is from 2:36 AM tears running down her face and streaking her Chanel mascara.
Many a manager is quivering in fear.
Like, no Karen, you can’t speak to the manager. You did order your McDouble with extra onions, everyone here heard you.
I’m not trying to cause a problem. I’m ungrateful?
If you’re a manager, you meet at least 12.9 Karens per day.
Sorry, I don’t make the rules.
Now, there’s statistically gotta be at least ONE Karen who’s gotten this far in the article and is gettin’ all huffy.
Was the Hedley album Storms just about some woman named Karen who went around eating the hearts out of managers’ chests? Probably. Truth hurts, doesn’t it?
In all seriousness though, we’re wishing safety to all those in Tropical Storm Karen’s path.
Now, when storm Brad begins to rear its sweaty face, I ain’t wishing safety to none of y’all. Those who did not heed the Brad warning are doomed for all eternity, that’s just how it works.
h/t: Daily Dot
