Facebook Fun With The Diesel Bun

A few days ago I discovered a Facebook page with an oilfield theme that allows you to submit anonymous posts via a proxy website. Being that I've never exactly worked "in the patch", I thought it'd be fun to see if I couldn't concoct a "confession" that was convincing enough to garner some feedback.


My first submission:

http://www.facebook.com/oilfieldconfessions

Forty-nine responses (not including sub-replies) greeted the fictional dilemma of my own design the following day. Here's the first one up:

http://www.facebook.com/oilfieldconfessions

Salient points duly noted! 

The Newfoundland gestapo is in full effect you fucking poors!

Now, I dare not fault my fellow man for submitting to whatever authoritarian dictates happen to stand between himself and his fulfillment of any financial obligations or goals he might have, but this particular Canadian Citizen would have to have a family to feed before even considering the act of urinating in a cup for a shot at earning a steady paycheck. 

In my opinion, such an act of submission is really no different than if you were to ask me to kneel before a boardroom of foreign chairmen just to be granted the privilege of begging them for a scrap of their fancifully exorbitant epicurean brunch platter spread out on some gleaming ebony table worth more than all the nutmeg in Grenada.  

Essentially, if my handshake and assurances aren't good enough to satisfy the imperial overlords of Canachin, then Chinada Inc. isn't good enough for me. 

The motives behind responsible corporate entities subjecting applicants to mandatory drug screening prior to contractually engaging them with inherently dangerous working commissions is entirely understandable for obvious reasons. Still, it only causes me to question what sorts of unsavory archetypes I might find myself thrown into the mix with in the field. It's my understanding, after all, that there exists both technical and administrative methods to foil the whole damn bloody "pre-employment" pissing process anyway.    

While my phony job offer spiel was impulsively written on a whim, my sentiment was partly genuine. And though it was inadvertent, I do feel a tad ashamed about eliciting heartfelt advice from the unsuspecting and the kindest respondents to the post. As for all the arrogant clever boots.... GOTCHA chump!  

My next anonymous submission was somewhat more creative - although I cannot take credit for inventing the idea of the "diesel bun" itself. In fact, it was a friend of mine who insisted it's a real phenomenon around drilling rigs, but I remain skeptical. He invoked a convincing indigenous-people's accent as he related it to me so many years ago and boy did I laugh! 

I could tell that several of the respondents to my little pretext were wise to its fabricated nature...

https://www.facebook.com/oilfieldconfessions

... and here, someone was right-quick to confront my fictional female swamper - with both guns blazing!

Yowza! Such a charmer! Showed me who's boss! 

From now on, whenever I fool someone, I'm going to abruptly shout, "Diesel Bun!" 

My internet access may be out of commission for an indeterminate period of time. Any contributions will expedite the restoration of my connectivity.  

Thanks for reading.