After five months in the beautiful Aryan State of North Dakota, it is time to go home. Our work here is finished. We found and leased about five hundred billion barrels of oil. All that remains is pumping it out of the ground, and using it up as fast as possible – in my lifetime, preferably. I predict gas will be 32¢ a gallon in a year. Then you can thank my colleague and me for doing what our idiot government failed to do since the damned arabs invented the energy crisis in 1973.
The first thing we should do after we get all the oil, is send Hugo Chavez of Venezuela a box of turds, with a note advising him it is time to suck it. Disappearing him would be kyna coo too. And we should stab all the journalists who pronounce his name “Ugo.” It’s HUEgo.
I’m going to miss my adopted Fatherland. The small towns that haven’t been ruined by Wal-Mart.
The friendly people who still wave, speak, and don’t pull out in front of you on the highway. The manicured lawns with stealable things in the yard that no one steals. Unlocked cars. No seat belts (because there are no wrecks in North Dakota). The wildlife. I actually saw a herd of antelope the other day on the way to Williston. The spectacular sunsets.
I tried to take pictures of the friendly local people, but they threw stones at me for not being a Lutheran.
This is one of the few states I’ve ever visited that I could move to without a problem. It is a state I would not have likely visited, if I hadn’t had the opportunity to work here. It is one of those experiences for which I had low expectations, and it turned out to exceed my wildest notion of what it would be like. I also won the lottery, but here it is only $7. What a thrill it was to meet the governor.
The highways are in perfect condition. There are no pot holes. The roads are perfect, but they repave them anyway. In Oklahoma, one must stop at roadside shops and have new shocks installed. The turnpikes are touted as autobahn-like roadways that quicken one’s way to any destination. Alas, the road construction projects in Oklahoma, both state and local, are ETERNAL. The turnpikes are always slower, and it costs about $300 in tolls to go anywhere.
I will miss the coal trains. I’ve heard it stops in Stanton for lunch, but I think that was a fib. But the train stops for some reason, every day. I never knew there was coal here, but there is – lots.
In Stanton there is an elderly gentleman, a veteran of World War II. Every morning he walks down to the café for breakfast. He lost his wife a couple of years ago. He has a collie mix he named S.O.B. He and the dog walk down every morning. He wears over-alls. He ties the dog to a pole outside the café, and S.O.B. waits patiently for the man to finish his breakfast. Then it is time to do whatever else they do each day. Routines are cool. This guy goes to the animal shelter for stray dogs, particularly those that have been abused. He has to go all the way to Bismarck to find an abused dog at the shelter. But he finds cool ones, and then loves them until they are less neurotic. His dog is a bit skittish, because some asshead probably beat him at one time. But S.O.B. will let you pet him if you ask him nicely.
Thanks to Obama and Wal-Mart, these kinds of things are disappearing from America. In North Dakota, though, it is common to see a sappy scene out of Norman Rockwell or Reader’s Digest. I hope the man and his dog live to be about 175, if that is what they want.
I hate to leave because it is fun living in a hotel. Someone makes my bed and cleans up the peanut shells that I drop on the floor.
I wanted to experience a real winter. Imagine a place that is so cold most vehicles have an engine block heater installed. One plugs in the heater when the vehicle is parked. There are plugs at most public buildings.
I will get used to living at home again. Hopefully I’ll get an opportunity to travel to another place, preferably one settled and populated by Germans, like this area of North Dakota.
I will have to buy some fat suits, as it is likely I will be in court practicing oil & gas law. I think I need a little more training on the road, but that is not up to me. I’d like to remain fat for awhile. I bought a pedometer, but the thing doesn’t work. It hasn’t made me want to walk or run or anything. I set it so my average step is like six feet, so it seems I’ve walked much further than I did. I wore it about today, until it got too heavy, and I logged 178.49 miles.
I will have liposuction, if I don’t have to get up.
When I get home I’m going to eat at Ted’s, a good steak place, and a good pizza place – Nomad perhaps – all on the same day.
I’m going to watch a lot of my favorite DVDs, piled up with fat Micky, my Jack Russell Terrier. I’ll have dog hair all over me, but that will be nice.
I’m going to complain about the weather being too hot and humid down there. I’m going to observe and experience and take fussiness to a whole. Nutha Level.
I’ll get used to a new schedule. I’ll learn new things that will interest me. I’ll make lots of money and get back the elusive Rolex that some assface stole. This experience has taught me that I can catch on to just about anything if I am surrounded by attractive, well-dressed people with German names who wave and smile and don’t want anything from me.
And lastly, I’m not saying anything else about that awful obama.
Until I get home and think of something trippy.
Thanks to my best friend and mentor, David Kelly ("Jesus hates you"), and my whigger Randy Eisworth("Let Excel help you") for teaching me a new trade up here. I am forever grateful.
Hey to you and yours. Gott mit uns.
Randall P. Hodge, Esq.
©Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, LLC
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