BP Blames Bad Blow Performance, On It’s Rig Maintenance Partner!
“Be Pee” Called Incontinent, On U.S. Continent. BP Tries To Cap Leak with Plastic “Reservoir End” Big Boom Condoms, In Effort To Stop Oil Impregnation, of U.S. Virgin Wetlands!
BP Premature in Long Term Reliability Claims! It Mishandles It’s Rig, Fails to Properly Hold Back Accidental Spill, and Gushes All Over Fertile Chicks, and Their Wetland Areas! Fishing and Tourist Industries Shut Down, as Sticky Stain Spreads.
Virgin Nesting Areas Fouled By Oozing Goo! Innocent Chicks, Surprised By Gusher, Dive Headlong Into Sticky Spray!
Slippery, Sticky Seamen, and Dispersal Detergents, Combine To Try and Soak Up the Massive, and Continuing To Come, Stain.
When asked what is their latest strategy for cleanup, BP had just one word to say, “Depends.”
When pressed for more options on how to stop the gusher on the seabed, BP said, “We may have to get all the way down on our bottom, and put one of our smaller, tighter tubes on it, and then suck on it as hard as we can, till we lap it all up!”
BP trotted out it’s oozing PR man, Lord Gushwell, who said BP was “moving forward”, or more likely, “Thrusting” Forward, and is changing it’s name from “British Business Prick”, to either, “The Beautiful People”, or the “Butt Position”.
When pressed for an end to the sticky business, the BP PR man said, “Look, this is a Suck Job! All we can do from this point on, from this end of the Big Gushing Wellhead Pipeline, is to keep a Stiff Upper Lip, and not lose a grip on our throbbing, vein popping heads!”
Lord Byrong “Gushy” Gushwell, with his assistant, Baron “Poopsi” Von Octane, went on to say, “If we keep all hands off the poop deck, and Hard On our stiff, banging and ruddy rudder, thereby maintaining our present course and speed, keep our bloody Mainmast up, hope our Wind holds out and keeps Blowing in the right Direction, and if we think hard enough of our Duty to the Queen, and Pray that all our Frothy Seamen will Come Out winningly, and royally, in the end, then this thick Oily Ejaculation in our Seabed will maybe, finally, dribble to a full, Final, and Flaccid Stop, and we’ll be able to pull out of this tight, tarty, and sticky wicket hole we’re in!”
His other assistant, Lady Duchess Airedale Vixen Huffenpuff Von Dusseldorf, nodded her tight English face, in Unanimous and Total Agreement, and added, “All things in due time.” Poopsi and Gushy both said in unison “Here, here!”
Seated in the audience at the press briefing, Reporter Becky Stumpelmeyer, of Ohio, Kansas, or Greenville, South Carolina, a first year virgin cub reporter, fainted, and fell into a slump, in Clark Denks throbbing crotch, who just happened to be thinking about the Effect the Big Spill would have on his favorite creature, the Humpback Whale.
Her open mouth fell over the rounded end of Clark’s bulging, lightly lubricated, knobby escutcheon, that was puffing up, and staining the crotchel area, of Clark’s fine flannel pants. As her glistening red Mouth capped his wellhead pipeline protrusion, Clark gasped, and like a whale spouting air, leaned back, and let out a long, deep, MOAAN.
He looked down, saw her red petroleum boom lips clamp down on his towering and oily rig, and while gently brushing her soft smooth hair with his hand, he then throbbingly,and forcefully, Ejaculated, into her Gaping, Open Mouth.
Three long pulses, whooshed upwards, until his Deep, Gushing, Primal Ocean Rig, was Spent.
Reporter Rebecca Stumplemeyer, trainee for InterCuntinental Foxy Pox, the NoNooze Snooze Division, known as “Worldwide Pox Ooze”, remained Blissfully, unaware.
Sadly for Becky, Clark had poorly maintained his “rig”, and his anti-blowout valve had failed prematurely.
Her Virgin Red Toastline, was now forever despoiled, with Clark’s sticky, and automatic, Sperm Whale Oil.
* * *
Press Release, 2.0! Military Goes To Soupcon Three, Code Red!
The Pentagon said today that all fishing and tourist industries in the Gulf of Mexico would be shut down. From now on the Gulf will only be used for oil drilling, and as a secret anti-terrorist training ground. Congress will officially change the name of the Gulf of Mexico to “Black Water”.
The Air Force, Navy Seals, and UFO Trackers, will call it by the Code Name, “Low Octane Area 57”.
Mexico protested harshly, and said this was a case of “Ocean Profiling”, and throwing a Mexican Baby out with good bath water. Mexico vowed that from now on, it will be the oil addicted Gringos who will be called “the Greasers”, and not the hard working, proud, illegal Mexican immigrant!
The State of Arizona applauded the Gulf Shutdown by saying that anytime a Border is sealed off with Anti-Immigration Petroleum Goo, it’s a Good Thing for Law Enforcement Policy. “Anything coated in Brown Oil, whether it’s birds or people, will be easier to Spot as illegal Mexicans!”, said Arizona Republican Governor, Lovey O’Leavitt, and Tucson Sheriff K.K.K. DoRight.
Republicans immediately offered a Senate Bill for the Gulf called “Cap, Trade, Pollute, and Dilute”, where oil spills in one part of the Gulf, would be mixed with, offset, and diluted by cleaner water in another part of the Gulf. Businessmen immediately cheered it as Progress.
The secretive Black Water Corporation, after changing it’s name to “Z”, said it will now change its name back to “Viva La ZP”, or simply “Zap-At-Ya.” Mexico was not amused, and the Mexican Historical Society immediately Protested, saying it was an insult to Emiliano Zapata’s good name.
In London, BP announced it will change it’s name to “British Prophylactics”, sounding vaguely pharmaceutical, and like safe sex for unplanned spills. Shares in Trojan Condoms went up as Wall Street expected a merger, or hostile takeover. The Trojan Board of Directors said a merger was not a “good fit”, and a hostile takeover would not be an “easy slip on, either”.
The New York High Fashion Institute said it will begin selling an Oil Resistant Beachwear line, with non-slip soles, on all flip flops, sandals, and low heels, and in five colors: Survival Orange, Emergency Strobe White, Blackened Unidentified Sea Creature, Bloated Dead Fish, and Angry Bubba Republican.
New York City network morning TV shows, will do fashion and cooking segments, on the new line. Gourmet food writers are now calling Gulf Seafood, “Self Basted Louisiana Style”, or simply, “New Foul”.
Gay fashion designers are offering new Synthetic Bird Feather outfits, and runway models are learning to do the “Oil Encrusted, Dying, Flouncing, Bird Flop Walk”. Fashion Mags are gushing over the New Look, calling it Post Industrial.
Sales of the new Louisiana hair product, “Gulf Gel” by Hair Dressage, are way up at Salons across Manhattan.
“Overall,” said Mayor Loonberg, “oil spills are good for Business, and what’s good for business, is Good for America, especially the Giant Monopoly Unorthodox Banks.”
Recyclers Anonymous, Inc., located in Tabasco, Louisiana, said today they will scoop up oily beach sand, and sell it as a Sun Tan Lotion and Abrasive Skin Defoliant, in Light Red, Mocha, and Dark Chocolate Strengths, with three levels of Sun Protection Factor: Ten thousand, 1 million, and Infinity. Their slogan will be, “Smear It On, a Little Dab Will Do Ya! Get That Oil Toned Tan Today!”
The National Science Institute said they have discovered the basics of Dolphin Language, and the dolphins in the Gulf are really pissed.
The Rich White Man Republican Corporate Party offered to create a special “Native Dolphin Reservation Zone”, with a Casino, an Underwater Ride Theme Park, and a Hard Rock Café. It will be called the “White Man Dolphin Manifest Destiny Treaty.”
The Dolphins will be forced to learn English, give up their native underwater customs, convert to Christianity, and wear goggles when on a Vision Quest.
The dolphins said if we threw in some old blankets, and whiskey, they’d take the Deal.
* * *
Press, Then Release, 2.2! Oh, Yeah, Baby! Now Press It Again!
BP announced it would hire thousands of illegal Mexican immigrant workers, to clean up the Gulf oil spill, and will call them “Water Landscapers”, or “Water Color Specialists”. Their leaf blowers will be called, “Ocean Mulch Blowers”.
Each worker will be equipped with special inflatable shoes, that will allow them to float on the water, and the world will know them as, “Jesus, the Mexicans who Walk on Water.”
Jews responded by saying, “Jesus really didn’t walk on water, he was just a Normal Guy cleaning up an Oil spill, a long time ago. You see, he poured the oil into the water, to kill the fish, so they would float to the surface, and he could feed the people, and claim it was a miracle. Jesus was really just a minor Magician.”
God, in a fit of Old Testament Anger, promptly Re-Condemned the Jews to Wander the Earth till the End of Time. God went on to say, “Now that the Jews have Achieved Great Success in America, they will now be Doomed to make crappy insipid rock music and horrible cartoon movies, and to repeatedly burn down Wall Street, after having invented the game, ‘Crazy Jew Banker’”.
After consulting with their Wall Street Rabbis, their board of “bored advisors”, the well known Wall Street Investment Bank, “Gold Men in Slacks”, said today it will handle the Initial Public Stock Offering, of a new Kosher Cache High Fashion Menswear Company called “Jew Boy”.
They will make a very expensive line of Gold Pinstriped Business Suits called “The Monopoly Banker”, made entirely of Gold, and an even more expensive line of Striped Prison Suits, called “The Business Felon”, made mostly of lawyers fees.
Less expensive middle lines will be called, “The Amoral Accountant”, and the “MBA”, also known as the “Master Bastard Asshole”.
The least expensive middle line, will be called, “The PR Zombie”, made of shiny plastic “Moving Forward Fabric.”
Their basic starter lines, will be called “The Corporate”, and the “B-Schooler.”
A Nomex Fireproof Suit, called the “Dare Devil”, made of “fine Faust fiber”, will be available, just in case Hell does Exist. It is to be worn underneath all the other available suits, as a backup plan, in case “The Deal” falls through.
The new menswear company will be part of a super secret, super powerful, Multi National Corporate Capitalist Cult, beholden to No One, except to The Holy Universal Master, the Supreme and Ultimate, Secret Profit of the Business Universe.
Amen.
Oops! Excuse me! I meant to say, “Mammon”.
Of course, when you consider the single minded, hate filled intolerance of the Fundamental Religious Right, you can throw the “Amen” back in there.
Both the “Ameners”, and the “Mammoners”, are doing their God Damned Best, to fuck up the World.
* * *
Press For Release, 3.0
Taco Bell said today that BP could use it’s Bells as a way to cap the oil leaks in the Gulf. All Taco Bells immediately came out with new menu items: “The Taco Spiller”, the “Big Gulf”, the “Oil Fried Chihuahua”, and the “Chocolate Burrito”.
The Mexican Chihuahua Society immediately protested.
The “Asian Man Boy, Dog Lovers, Gourmet Chinese Restaurant Association” said it would offer Doggy Burgers, fried in thick, manly, BP “Big Prick” Sauce, in a tight wiener Bun, on a special “Woofy Value Menu”. Their slogan? “Don’t knock it, if you haven’t tried it! It’s Mmm, Mmm, Dog lickin’ Good!”
Today’s Special? Chopped, fried Dog Balls, with pussy whipped Hysterectomy Sauce, and wimpy “Yes Dear” Noodles.
What’s it called?
“The Corporate Special”.
Ya gotta love it! We got a really BIG, OVER Supply of it!
Chow down, Pal! The Corporations are gonna make you “Eat it”, whether you want to, or not!
OPEN WIDE! HERE IT COMES!
SPLURT! SPLUURRT! SPLOOORT!
YEAH, BABY! CORPORATIONS “DO IT TO YOU” BETTER!
TASTES GOOD, DOESN’T IT!
“Trust the businessman!”
Whoever thought that one up, was high as a kite. One more piece of discredited Conservative Bullshit.
How about this?
CORPORATIONS FUCK YOU BETTER!
Now We’re Cookin’!
Right on Target!
SEE? ARE YOU CATCHING ON YET, LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD?
Or, are you still in the “Virgin Innocence Phase” of, “My! What a Big Dick YOU have!” said Little Red Riding Hood, to the Big Bad Wolfie!
And the Wolf said, “The Better to Fuck You with, My Dear!”
“My! What Big Lips, and Teeth, and Tongue YOU have!” said Little Red Riding Hood!
“YES! The Better to EAT you with, my Dear! Now, let’s ALL GO TOGETHER, to Grandma’s House for Dinner!”
“Oh, Goody! That sounds like a Swell Idea! Come on, Toto! We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore!”
And Dorothy was Never to be seen again!
Where did she GO?
Oh, the POOR Thing! Bless her sweet heart! She was RAPED, by the Giant Corporation!
And the Legal Settlement?
There wasn’t much of one, due to GOP Tort Reform!
Did she get Justice?
Sorry, we don’t really know, becuz the settlement was, “UNDISCLOSED!”
Only the Lawyers know!
Signed,
Faint Bernard
The Old Man, and his let’s See…
I think I got a hem in my way…
Copyright © 2010. By Bernard Drums! All rights reserved.
* * *
Are them jokes like poetry, or whuut?
“Herewith, you will know me by my new name thru out the Land! Poetronamist, of Slambonium! The Poet To Emperor Seizure! All Hail Seizure! May He Forever Rule the Roamin’ Empire!”
“All Oil Clogged Arteries lead to Uncontrolled Food Roam, and to the refrigerator in your Home! Roam, and Our American Transfat Oil Addicted Obesity “Prone”, was not built in a day! So sayeth, Poetronamist, of Slambonius! Hail Seizure! Redistribute the Stolen Corporate Wealth, and give Food Health back to the People!
And remember, “Nero Fiddled, while Rome Burned!” Or, “Near One Diddled, a Roamin’ Bone Burned, or piddled!” There, happy now?
And Baby, My Bone is HOT, for YOU! SSSSSSssssss!
Ready to BLOW!
Steaming HOT!
Ah-oo-gah! Dive! Dive! All hands below Deck! The Captain is Coming! Take her down to full periscope depth! Rig for Depth Charge! All ahead FULL!
Prepare to Fire Torpedoes!
Fire control! Hold Steady!
I’m bearing down! I’ve got a good angle on her bow! Mark!
Fire One! BAM!
OH, YEEAHH!
Fire TWO! BAMMM!
Hot Cheewawa, Babeeee! OOOH La-La!
Fire THREE! BAAAMM!
WHOAHHH, Baby! GERONIMO!
Torpedoes hot and running, Skipper!
Sound of a High Speed Surface Screw, Skipper!
Periscope down!
Flood the Ballast Tanks! Take her down fast, full angle on her bow! All ahead full! Rig her for Silent Running!
Take her below the satin, cashmere, flannel, woolen Thermal Layer.
Engine room, All Stop!
Aye, aye, Skipper!
Bing! Bing!
Blubble, wubble, blurble, wurble!
Ka-Chunk!
We’ll rest on her nice fat bottom, until we’re ready to come up again, and reload our Torpedo Tube, in about half an hour.
Aye, Captain!
Could you see anything, Skipper?
No, there was some kind of Oil, or KY Jelly, all over my periscope peephole!
That’s too bad, Skipper!
Yeah, but I think we knocked up a bunch of big beautiful English Birds, banged a whole lotta American Chicks, and we really impregnated a Huge, Unspoiled, Virgin Wetland with sticky, gooey Oil!
It’s a shame, her Wetland will never be the same, and may require plastic prophylactic containment booms, soap showers, and a crew to clean up her White Virgin Surfaces, and get the memory of the sticky, oily balls off her.
Too bad she had to learn the Hard Way, Skipper!
Yeah, but somebody’s gotta do it! Sometimes, you just gotta Ram the Lesson Home! That’s the only way they really Learn!
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back now!
Git yer Bone on!
And for you lovely Ladies, “Time to Git On a Bone!”
Or, at least Dream about it!
Oooh, Bernardy, your Bone is SO Dreamy!
Can I kiss your Bone?
Can I ride it, ALL the way Home?
I can’t Contain it no longer, Moofy, here comes the BIG BOOM!
Oh, My! What a Big, Pretty, Oily Gushing Rig! And All over Mama’s Big, Wide Open, Slick, Fertile, WET GULF!
Mama just loves a deep, big, slick, wet, gushing, Drill Rig!
Drill me, Baby, Drill me!
* * *
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