On the morning after Sharknado, it's time to assess the damage.
Two hours of my life have been lost forever, claimed by the exhilirating ridiculousness of the instant classic made-for-TV flick the Syfy cable network gave the world on Thursday.
Sharknado's hurricanes and twisters, which spark a Biblical rain of sharks upon Los Angeles, also set off a tidal wave on Twitter.
And as a sea of shark-snark inundated my feed, I found comfort knowing I was not alone amid all the horror and terror. It was like being on a virtual set with the Mystery Science Theater 3000 gang, without the robots.
If it hasn't already, Syfy ought to patent this formula for gleefully bad mashups of monsters, disasters, and faded former semi-starlets wearing Daisy Duke shorts and carrying weapons. Not to mention, scripts we can Tweet.