Notice: This is a post from my site- I'm trying to spread the word and work on my writing/humor. Help a Broseph Stalin out… 

On a totally serious note: Fuck BP and fuck Tony Hayward, the pompous cock who calls himself the CEO of BP. Seriously, this guy runs his company about as well as a quadriplegic runs a marathon. Not only is he a complete moron, but he's also the Michael Jordan of cutting corners- corners's like using proper deep water drilling techniques to ensure that your well isn't a leaky piece of shit, not degasifying (don't really know what that entails but I'm sure it involves burritos) the ground around the well allowing for build up of flammable gasses, and constructing shoddy oil rigs then registering with some shit hole island country that doesn't have the resources or the knowledge to conduct a decent safety check on the rig (and before you start bitching, YES, I looked it up and BP's competition makes damn sure they do all of this stuff right, which is why when there is an accident [as there will inevitably be] they can fix it reasonably quickly). This situation would be like you getting totally blackout wasted and fucking some stranger without a condom, and then bitching and moaning about it when one of you wakes up with AIDS and the other one's pregnant- you were an irresponsible prick and you deserve it. Tony Hayward is a stupid asshole and I hope he chokes. 


Moving on…

The other night I went out to the bars to get piss drunk and pick up loose women to reinforce my ego. As luck would have it, I managed to bring home a good ol’ fashioned herpes-free skank with which I could perform heinous sex acts, and after an evening of drunkenly smashing our genetalia together like some kind of angry meat sandwich, we passed out hard.

Turns out I should have taken a second look at that vag before merging with it, because this bitch was leaking more than just Astroglide and semen- she was on her period, that mysterious time of the month when women bleed out tiny, undeveloped baby parts. Or at least I think that's what happens- I can't be bothered to do the research, it's too disgusting. The next morning my bed sheets were covered in blood, not to mention little Clarence Thomas down there (my aptly named wang), and my pet cat, Steve. It looked like that scene from The Shining when the elevator doors open and blood shoots out like a goddamn tsunami and ruins everyone's shit, like so many tiny South Pacific islands. 

Needless to say I woke the bitch up, drove her straight to K-Mart and made her buy me a new bed. Then I dropped her off on the street corner where I originally found her and drove home.

When I got home I looked at the bed sheets for a while, noting how the blood had spread from its point of origin (her vagina) to basically everywhere in the room. Then I got real crazy with it and imagined that my bed sheets were an ocean, let’s say the Gulf of Mexico, and the blood was a disgusting foreign liquid mucking up all the water. I thought about how, if there were people trying to catch fish around this period blood, their industry would be totally ruined because who wants to eat fish covered in period blood? Not I. And if there were creatures trying to swim in the ocean, the period blood would get all over their shit and totally gross them out until they died of complete disgust. If people were trying to use the beaches around the ocean, they’d get covered in period blood, and rightfully be so pissed off that they find the skank who caused it, dam up her twat hole with the biggest tampon ever, and then land a People's Elbow on her colon for being such a retard.

Then I got online and looked up images of the BP oil spill and HOLY SHIT I JUST FIGURED OUT WHAT HUNDREDS OF SCIENTISTS AND BP EXECS COULDN’T!!!!!

I spent the rest of the day working on my final theory of hydrodynamics, which I proudly present to you now: