Storm Dennis is on the way, with high winds, low temperatures and Amazon Basin-levels of rainfall promised/threatened for the weekend. All I can think is: why do they give storms such uncool names?
Dennis is a name for the man who bleeds the radiators in your office. Dennis is the driver of the minibus that brought you on a day trip to Ballybunion last summer.
Dennis is that guy you play five-a-side soccer with, the big lanky fella who hasn't much of a first touch but is a good man to get on the end of a cross.
Dennis is simply not a cool name. The only rock 'n' roll Dennises in history were Dennis Rodman, Dennis Bergkamp and Les Dennis. And frankly, that's not enough.
Previous weather events had far more attention-grabbing names. Storm Darwin: I love it. It speaks to us of the pitiless fury of nature, how all life is defined by a never-ending battle for survival in the great game of evolution.
Storm Ophelia is good too: in referencing the tragic character from Hamlet, it reminds us of man's mortality, how we're mere whispers on the breeze of chance, here for a brief moment then washed away by the Biblical "flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven". Ooh, spooky.
And the Beast from the East? That speaks for itself.
Now we have Storm Dennis. Even calling it Dennis the Menace won't cut it.
We need to give these terrifying, ferocious forces of destruction much better names: cooler, more dangerous-sounding, with a bit of flash.
Rick, Dave, Butch or Thor the Mighty Hammer would do the trick and could give hysterical weather forecasters on satellite channels the chance to show off all those wild gestures and manic outbursts they learned in broadcasting school.
"Hurricane Butch is on its way. It's big, rough and scary, just like the guy I met in a bar last night, but that's enough about my love life. The forecast is: lock your doors because Butch is on his way - and he's angry. Grrrr."
I would definitely tune in for that. Sadly, it won't happen for at least another 11 months, as names for the 2019-2020 storm season have already been decided by a meteorological brains trust in Ireland, the UK and the Netherlands.
Still, I'd like to see #StormButch trending as soon as possible on Twitter, just to get everyone ready.
One other problem with limp or uncool storm names is that we don't take the threat seriously enough.
If Storm Terminator was forecast, I'd be bunkering down in the basement with a rifle and a thousand tins of Spam six months ahead of time. For Storm Feeble, Storm Pretty Flowers or Storm Styrofoam, not so much.
I've been looking at the still-unused names for this storm season, trying to work out a likely threat level.
Storm Francis will surely be timid enough, relatively speaking, after the famously gentle saint beloved by birds and small woodland animals.
Hugh reminds me too much of Hugh Grant to get stressed. Iris is named for a flower - nothing to worry about. Ellen, Liam, Maura, Olivia, Willow and Roisin are all too nice.
As for Storm Kitty, ah here - you might as well name it Storm My Little Pony.
On the other hand, Gerda puts me in mind of the heroine of The Snow Queen, one of the most terrifying stories ever brought forth into creation by the fevered subconscious of humanity. Furthermore, it's all about bad weather - freezing winds, wild snows, the whole world turning into a melancholy, doomed palace of ice. Now that's what you call a storm.
Noah brings up thoughts of the Old Testament flood - not the kind of thing you want to be considering just as you discover that the hardware shops have sold out of sandbags and buckets.
Jan has a hard Nordic edge about it. Piet has a hard Dutch edge. Samir, while not exactly scary, at least sounds exotic, and thus cool-ish.
Tara reminds us of the old High Kings of Ireland, for whom the weather wasn't a meteorological event that could be mapped and understood, but the fierce, dreadful eruptions of the angry gods.
That's definitely one to stay indoors for, just in case our forebears were right.
Finally, we come to the pick of the bunch. Storm Vince - now we're talking. Vince: he could be a 1950s rockabilly hero riding his motorbike down the dark highways of the soul; he could be a fat Mafioso wheezing as he drinks espresso and listens to Nessun Dorma.
Either way, it's a cool, tough-guy name. Vince is worthy of our fear and respect.