plain the down sweepin’ comes wind the where: Ooooooook-lahoma!

Following a failed attempt to relax in Arkansas, I’ve come to one of the landlocked states to find something that I’ve always secretly thought of as relaxing: a submarine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there’d be drawbacks (the delivery times from Pizza Hut would be appalling), but I’ve always found something appealing about being jammed in a sardine can and plunged to the bottom of the ocean.

USS BatfishThe sub I’ve found is the U.S.S. Batfish and is, for some reason, in Oklahoma. I have to emphasise that they brought the 95m long submarine on a 1,350 mile trip up river. A really bendy river. I’m grateful that they managed it, however, because if it wasn’t a submarine I’d be stuck talking about The Grapes of Wrath.

Walking through the sub, it’s not hard to see why it’d be great to live on one, what with its secure doors:

Batfish Door No burglar’s going get through that after swimming 200m down to find you.

Modern dining room:

Batfish Dining RoomIn-table checkers boards, the future is now.

Galley well equipped for dinner parties (of about 80 crew):

Batfish GalleyA cosy place to make new friends:

Batfish BunksYou can stay up all night gossiping…

It’ll be just like summer camp. Except you can’t phone your parents to come home early and the Japanese might depth charge you.

Batfish BunksNo making smores either. Probably some sing-a-longs.

Of course, you could upgrade to the luxury of an officer’s room:

Batfish Officers RoomThree to one room is fine; three to one pin-up is going to cause friction.

The toilet facilities are… cosy.

Batfish Bathroom

Finally, it has enough valves to finish Half-Life 3 this century:

USS BatfishAnd, of course, an effective deterrent against Jehovah’s Witnesses calling:

Bertie and the TorpedoAs you can see, Bertie’s rather taken with the boat:

Bertie the EngineerToday, Bertie’s been put in charge of the torpedo room.

He’s learning lots about World War II.

“We’ll get those dirty Commies,” says Bertie.

Silly Bertie, those dirty Commies were our friends then.

“Oh,” says Bertie, “Then death to the Hun.”

That’a bear, Bertie.

 

It would be remiss of me to mention the one other place I (briefly) visited while in Oklahoma, the Oral Roberts University:

Creepy Oral Roberts HandsAnd its creepy, creepy hands.

It was founded by Oral Roberts, a preacher who realised that God was cool with him being diamond-grills pimp-level of rich, who saw 900ft Jesuses and who became a pioneer televangelist. Students still sign an “honor code” which forbids drugs, alcohol, homosexual activity, non-wife bangin’, and, worst of all, requires students to do aerobics.

Oral Roberts Prayer TowerSo, y’know, a Party School

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