Saudi Oil, Saudi Golf, and Messiah Joe Biden

Plus the Democratic Loons' Plan for 2024, and a Few Million Men Who Look Exactly Like Fauci

Tripleheader today. Three articles.

ARTICLE ONE: Saudi Oil, Saudi Golf, and Messiah Biden

(This “Saudi” article is Part-2 in a series. For “Saudi” Part-1, click here.)

Here’s what we’re supposed to believe: The only chance America has to force down oil prices and stem inflation is…

Get the Saudis to pump more oil and sell it to us.

Based on that narrative, Joe Biden is scheduled to travel to Saudi Arabia this summer and take on Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the de facto head of State.

Oh, to be a fly on that wall! Joe, attempting a delicate and complex negotiation.

Well, it turns out you can be a fly on that wall. Now.

As my readers know, for many years I’ve had a team of scientists working on time travel in my lab at the North Pole. They’ve forwarded me a transcript of the upcoming dialogue between Biden and Mohammed:

Hey, Mo.

Joe.

Congratulations on your new golf tour, Mo.

Joe, your fly is open.

Oh, sorry.

Yes, the golf tour is going well. We got Phil Mickelson to sign on the dotted line for 200 million, before he ever stood in a tee box. Dustin Johnson came on board for 125 mill.

Did you really offer Tiger Woods 900 million?

It was actually a billion. He declined. He said he already had enough problems, without joining forces with “a repressive regime.”

Speaking of which…wait. I thought I was going to have a teleprompter set up here in the room.

We had a technical problem, Joe.

Jesus. What am I supposed to—

Don’t worry. We’re good. I have people who can translate your sentences into coherent English, if necessary.

Good one, Mo. I do tend to wander.

I can put up with it. It’s better than dealing with that giggling pothead, Kamala.

Anyhow, I’ve apparently made statements in the past about your human rights record, Mo. Those remarks may have come across as unkind. At least, that’s what my aides tell me. I don’t recall ever saying anything about your country.

Your CIA claims I ordered a death squad to take out a dissident journalist.

Those clowns fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. I want us to be friends, Mo.

I’d like that, too, Joe. Ten years ago, you and I could have done business if you guaranteed us protection from terrorism and Israel. But that’s not relevant anymore.

Is that right? What do you need from us now?

No more insults about our stance on human rights, women’s rights, homosexuality, and so on. We want you to see us as full-fledged partners. On equal footing. We’re not some second-class nation.

No problem, Mo.

In fact, Joe, we’re all up in your business with our new golf tour. By getting US golfers to defect from the PGA Tour and take our money, we’re showing the American people that Saudi money talks. And there’s nothing else to think about. Just like there’s nothing else to think about when slaves in China make Nikes. Do you see what I mean?

No. You lost me.

What do you want from us, Joe?

Oil and more oil. We want you to pump a lot more.

Of course. The US has an oil problem.

A big one. A huge one. And the mid-term pro-lections care soon.

The mid-term elections are coming up soon.

That’s what I just said.

That’s a big ask, Joe. More oil from us. By the way, have you watched any of our tour events?

A few minutes. I saw Phil miss a short putt.

He’s off his game. I understand he had a gambling problem. Lost a pile of money. He’s trying to be a “better man” for his family.

Aren’t we all? Let’s face it. Men are pigs. We should let women run the show. Oops. I shouldn’t have said that, Mo. Sorry. Old habits die hard. What were we talking about?

Golf.

Right. I was never much of a golfer. I tried it a few times. I sprayed the ball all over the course. Those carts use up too much oil. Climate change.

It’s a beautiful game, Joe, when the pros play it. It’s a very hard game. Even the best men have trouble.

I’m in trouble all the time.

I know that, Joe. You think the ball’s going straight, and then it slices over into the next fairway.

Or I’m in the woods, and I can’t find the damn thing.

You know, there’s a penalty for that. You have a certain amount of time to locate it, and then you have to drop a new ball, lose a stroke, and start over again.

I want to start over.

I do, too, Joe. But you see, here’s the thing. Today you won’t make any insulting remarks about my country, but tomorrow or next week, you might forget.

Anything’s possible, Mo. That’s my philosophy. I think that’s why people like me. If I have to make a quick shift, I will.

That’s why you’re here today.

What?

You’re here today talking to me, because you want to make a shift in how you play the game.

What game?

Golf. You don’t want to lose your balls in the woods. You want to stay straight in the fairway.

Right.

Two shots to the green, two putts, and you make par.

That’s the ideal. We always strive for it.

You should check your grip. If your right hand isn’t firm enough, the club face opens and you slice. The game teaches us humility. It humbles us.

We’re definitely on the same page there, Mo. A lack of humility gets us into all sorts of trouble.

And your long irons. You can’t always go for the green. Sometimes you have to lay up. Take a more modest line.

I once stood on a tee on a par five. I think it was at Pebble Beach. The green looked so damn far away, I couldn’t imagine ever getting there. I was using a Russian-made driver. It was an inferior club. They told me it was a knock-off of a Japanese model. Or maybe it was Chinese. They’re hard to tell apart.

Just like money. It’s basically a knock-off. An imitation.

Don’t get me started on money, Mo.

It’s real in terms of what it can buy, but having it in the first place, when you’re two people like us, Joe—we’re used to manufacturing money.

Out of thin air. The US would be in a lot trouble if we couldn’t manufacture it.

It’s my hope, Joe, you’ll manufacture some of it for my country. Think of it as a fee for doing business with us, just like the fee we pay golfers to join our tour.

You want the US to offset your costs in convincing those golfers to sign up with you?

Oh, we’d want a lot more than that, Joe. Because you want to move further into the oil business with us. We’d need a starting fee of, say, 400 billion. That’s before you buy the new quantities of oil we’d be pumping for you.

400 billion? I believe we could work that out.

Good. It’s just digital entries on your books.

That’s my understanding.

And there’s one other thing, Joe.

What’s that, Vladimir?

Mo.

Mo. Sorry.

I want to play a round of golf in the US.

We’d be delighted to have you.

Somewhere in the Midwest. I’ve always admired Oakland Hills in Michigan.

I’ve heard of it.

I’d want my round to be broadcast live on national television.

Well, sure.

And I want you to caddy for me.

What?

I want you to caddy for me. Carry my bag.

I mean—

If you won’t, Joe, that would be a deal breaker.

—That night on Air Force One, as Biden was sleeping, a dream spread out before him.

He saw an oil pipeline. It was turned on. The oil was flowing. US troops approached in tanks and ordered the pipeline shut down.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed in a fleabag motel. The room was dark. Obama was standing next to him. He said, “You have to be strong, Joe. Like Don Rumsfeld, after the Abu Ghraib torture scandal was exposed.”

Biden saw the ceiling of the bedroom open up to the sky. Silent helicopters hovered under a cloudbank. A voice spoke to him. It said, “Get the oil, even if you have to invade the Middle East again.”

Joe said, “America is broken. I have to find somebody to put the pieces back together again.”

He was standing on the first tee at Pebble Beach. The wind was blowing around him. He looked out at the ocean. He had a club in his hand. He knew he had to par the hole to get the oil. It was an impossible situation, unless…he appropriated the course as Federal Land. Then he could write any number he wanted to on his scorecard. Then everything would be all right.

In fact, that was the answer everyone was waiting for. Why not make all of America Federal Land? A masterstroke. Every person becomes a tenant. A tax increase across the board. THEN more domestic oil drilling could resume. Controlled. Parceled out. With quotas set from above. Overall oil use would be drastically reduced, by decree. He could appoint a planning board.

Production ceilings set on ALL goods. Price freezes. Guaranteed income for all.

Problem solved.

What WAS the problem?

There was no way he was going to hump Mo’s bag for 18 holes on national television.

ARTICLE TWO: Election 2024/Leaks From The Demo Bunker