This won't come as a terrible surprise to anyone, I imagine, but the BP board is set toaccept my resignation Monday evening and then all the oil in your Gulf waters will simply evaporate, as it was all my fault. Bit of levity, right? This will be my final contribution to your Wonkette, as well, and I can't say I'll miss this exercise in self-flagellation. Bob Dudley will take over formally, I'm told, and I do hope his "born on the bayou" muck-savage routine wins over your muppet news presenters.

Apologies for all my numpty remarks about the cleanup workers having "food poisoning" when the dispersants made them ill. Very sorry about that whole "I'd like my life back" cock-up, too -- although it did provide a title for this column, didn't it? And while catching shrimps hardly seems like a career anyone would embark upon unless all the better options panned out, I sincerely regret the loss of these people's livelihoods.

But you're probably wondering what I'll be up to once my already diminished duties are formally handed off. Don't take offense if a holiday on your Gulf Shores isn't on my list. I do fancy a weekend on the water but I prefer the clear blue variety, seen from the vantage of my yacht, a whiskey in my hand and America most certainly not troubling my mind.

In closing, I truly hope this crisis is abated and that BP shares do recover, as I've still got an arse-load of the stuff.


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