Asmy eardrums bend under the tumultuous cacophony of the wind, as the windowpanes sag against the relentless, machine gun rattle of the driven rain, as thenearby river roars ominously, pluming high against its piers, I lie, tossingand turning, tormented by the thought ...who called it Dennis? Before the 24hr news cycle demanded drama from the everyday,it would just have been the bad weather you can expect in winter.
But if you’re going to assign a name to the awesome power of nature,surely a Roman god, or some figure from Norse mythology. With apologies to anyDennis’s out there, Dennis … really?
It’s like Sauron of Mordor being Dave of Essex