It's Been a Gas

I went to fill up my imported, leased S.U.V. and it only cost forty-two dollars and twenty-one cents and I was like, "What the hey?" Just four months ago it cost eighty-four dollars and fifty-five cents for the same tank!?! Now, I haven't gone forward with my planned gas tank stapling surgery yet (the co-pay was too high). So, what happened? How has the price of fossil fuel dropped so fast so quickly?

Well, I know those glimmering bastions of Texas Tea jack prices up in the summer when we all are conditioned to vacate. Okay. I'm used to good old price gouging. It's part of my American upbringing. But, gas was almost a hardcore Romancing The Bone, Sperminator, Shaving Ryan's Privates five bucks a gallon in July when I was traipsing my co-dependents all over the East Coast. Now, it's back down in the Red Shoe Diaries, Porky's III, Girl's Gone Wild two-nineteens.

This is so un-American! I haven't read about any massive new supplies of crude being sucked out of Mother Earth. No new wars have begun in far away lands. We haven't drilled, baby, drilled up in Palintown.

How has the price of slow burning natural incendiary lubricant dropped so quickly after rising so obscenely? Could it be that the Geckos in Lower Manhattan were illegally and artificially jacking the value of a barrel up? Maybe. Most of those Masters of the Universe now need those same barrels to keep their green suspenders from flying off their yellow shoulders.

I know it doesn't float T. Boone's Slim Pickens' boat. He now only selflessly cares about how swift the wind blows. And I know it can't have anything to do with how hard the Casbah has been rocked. Those chic Sheiks are true Capitalists.

No. I think, like every other raping and pillaging of our collective rights, well-being and souls, the blame for this extraordinary fall in the value of oil falls at the four left feet of Uncurious George and his Ragged Dick.

These two failed Big Oil Wildcatters with their secret Big Energy meetings and their secretive renditions of exaggerated truth, injustice and the Gitmo Way have to be the real culprits of our pump's unplumpiness. They pandered and plundered us into this mess. This is their last crime (hopefully). This is the final feather in their price cap. For eight years Bon-Mot & Clyde have set the table for a feast of Thankless giving that no red-blooded lobbyist for an Indian Casino would ever bring the Maize to.

Thanks guys. It's been a gas.