Nothing’s sweeter than a long, hard horizontal drilling along mother earth’s stone cold grooves. With penetration, we can squirt a high pressure jet into mother earth’s honey pot making her quiver and rumble, wearing down and weakening her stony restraint until, in exhaustion, she finally cracks and expels her yummy, gooey, natural resource froth. We need that ecstasy inducing exudate impregnating the groundwater. Let’s shower in that shimmering slickwater. Why not wash our loincloths in that bubbling seepage. It’s time we boil our noodles with it, and drink it in our coffee, and tea. Let’s add that sluice to our juice from concentrate. If our faucets aren’t erupting with hot, ignitable fracking passion, we haven’t fracked hard or long enough. It must be done. We humans have needs. After a long day at work, is it so much to ask that we enjoy the soothing benefits of a thorough fracking? Dikes frack all the time. Why shouldn’t we.
We’ll frack all along that dirt track until we get a nice eruption of natural gas. Let’s Frack in Hollywood, Yellowstone, and along both the shining Pacific and Atlantic oceans. All along the roaring Mississippi, let’s frack. In the crack of the grand canyon and on Montana’s fossil bed, we can frack all day and all night long. Let’s get sticky in the heat of Louisiana’s steamy swamps and heat the cold frost of northern Minnesota’s nearly endless winter with rough, relentless fracking. We can frack in the cloak of London’s fog, and in the haunting dryness of the Australian outback. We’ll frack against China’s great wall, and in Italy we’ll frack framed by the frescos of the sistine chapel. No place is too sacred. Let the Frack fest begin!
Fracking is thirsty work, so let’s gather up all the drinking water and frack the world. If you don’t want to frack, I don’t want to hear about it. You’ll just have to either shut the frack up, or frack off .