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More of Bush's Domestic Disasters (Also see 'Co-conspirators - FEMA') Are Your Premiums Up (Are You Lonesome Tonight?) Blackwater Bush Defends Brownie (Gimme A Little Kiss, Will Ya,Huh?) Bush Flies Over New Orleans (Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?) Bush, The Almighty (My Old Flame) Bushie's Housing Bubble Bursts (Glad Rag Doll) Can't Believe He's Back In Town (Lulu's Back In Town) Cheney's Latest Aneurysm (Who's Sorry Now) CNN Is Counting Again (Always True To You In My Fashion) Confessing To Jeb (Brother, Can You Spare A Dime) Constituents, Listen To Me (Oh, Gentlemen, Listen, I Pray) Friendly Skies (I'm Beginning To See The Light) Gimme A Little Press (Gimme A Little Kiss, Will Ya, Huh) Give Back Your Pork (Take Back Your Mink) God Must Not Like Him (Somebody Loves Me) Halliburton, Bechtel, Kellogg, Brown And Root (On The Atchison, Topeka...) Head In The Sand (Time On My Hands) How Many Storms? (Blowin' In The Wind) I'm Yellow (Tit Willow) If Bush Had A Hammer (If I Had A Hammer) Katrina Secrets (Secret Love) Kerplunkin' (Shipoopi) Luck, Prove The President's Right (Luck Be A Lady Tonight) Media Control (Somebody Loves Me) No Cohesion (Manhattan) Ophelia (Cecelia) Pleasing Pa (What Have They Done To My Song,Ma?) Priorities (Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans) Protecting Our Ports (My Heart Belongs To Daddy) Rummy To Replace FEMA (Honeysuckle Rose) Sediment (Sentiment) So He Shot (You're The Top) The Fat Lady Sings (Sing For Your Supper) The Great Pretender (The Great Pretender) The New Presidential Medal Waltz (After The Ball) The Trouble With Harry (My Heart Belongs To Daddy) Three Little FEMA Fools (Three Little Maids From School) Uh New Orleans (Little Darlin') Who's Sorry Now? (Who's Sorry Now) Why Worry 'Bout Me? (Don't Worry 'Bout Me) |
Are your premiums up? Am I keeping them up? Are you finding that paying 'em's hard? Was your home blown away, Or washed, as they say? Is your roof, or your house, in your yard? Is the beach in your parlor inappropriate there? Are the stairs to your upstairs going nowhere? How much proof do I need Before I'll concede Global warming is whipping storms up?
Music by Lou Handman To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Blackwater, Blackwater, The answer to his prayer? Blackwater, Blackwater, How dangerous you're there. Confronting ciminals with hymnals What? You say that isn't you? You're paid lackeys in Bush khakis? Who'd you say was your guru? Blackwater, Blackwater, Stay the hell away. Blackwater, Blackwater, Conservative as hell Blackwater, Blackwater, Liberty's death knell. Your boss gave dough to Tom DeLay And financed Rick Santorum. His sister married into Amway Now there's an influential quorum. Blackwater, Blackwater, Stay the hell away. Blackwater, Blackwater, Three hundred bucks a day? Blackwater, Blackwater, To keep bad guys at bay? That's why we have the National Guard, The State Police and local cops But mercenaries in our yard? Let's hope it's for Bush photo ops. Blackwater, Blackwater, Stay the hell away. Bob Carlson |
"Why pick a guy like Brown," people ask. "Isn't someone aroun' up to the task?" Gosh, oh, gee, I suppose there is, But most would tell me how to run my biz. There won't be another storm for a while Why not see what he can do? He's managed ev'rything so well you'd think he was Rummy's cuz, Plus nobody knows Arabians as well as Brownie does. So give him a little rope, will ya, huh, And hope that he knows what to do.
Music by Maceo Pinkard To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Don't they know what it means When I buzz New Orleans And show them I still don't know What has gone wrong, Why their anger's getting stronger, The longer I've taken to show? I've been taken aback, It's so much like Iraq Where looters surprised me so. And who could forsee That like the lazy Mississippi I wouldn't know where to go? The spreading of the bayou, The smelly smoke that fills the air To think that a single typhoon Could ruin a brave Texan's prayer To ignore what it means To buzz New Orleans, Not knowing where to start, For there's more that I miss, Like my vacation, Than I will miss New Orleans.
Music & Original Lyric by To 'Domestic Disasters' |
I'm so vain. Most other religions complain. Don't they know I speak for God, And that no one's called the bunco squad About my reign? I'm so vain. Their Allah's no longer germane. There's no way he'll stand a chance Why he still lets his ladies belly dance, Which I disdain. New Orleans was for me a fascinating haze Of fascinating gays I despise, Some who would have tried to surprise Us born agains with love, A little push and shove So profane! That's not allowed in my domain. And they'll never try again To woo God-Money-Down-The-Drain, Or I'll raise Caine.
Music by Sam Coslow To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Verse Built to please a Bushie, Designed by, we suppose, A friend he found he thought up to the task. The little it'll cost you? Ev'ry buyer knows You can't afford it if you need to ask. Chorus Stonewalled up French mansion Why borrow for an expansion? This place has got it all. Two fish ponds, One small brook He says babbles gobble-de-gook With a slight south Texan drawl. It's the kind of place you'll feel OK with. Just phone to let him know which card you will pay with You can speak Castilian? His price to you, two point two million, If you can close this Fall.
Music by Dan Dougherty & Milton Ager |
Gotta cut his long vacation short Hates to use the word but he must 'abort' Calling for his help? It's a last resort Can't believe he's back in town. Couldn't stop the looting in Baghdad Why'd he think New Orleans wouldn't be as bad? To have to count on Junior is incredibly sad Can't believe he's back in town. You can tell those who loot That he claims he'll give a hoot, And ask somebody else to shoot As soon as he is out-of-town. Gotta show us all who's in command, Wishes he knew how to lend a helping hand. But once again things haven't gone as planned. Can't believe he's back in town.
Music by Harry Warren To 'Policies - Security' |
Who's worried now? Who's worried how His Halliburton Is certain to vow Not to accrue What some construe As an advantage to do What in the end Most will contend Was due to Cheney somehow? Should surgery fail, Who'll go their bail? Who'll vow to build their hoosegow?
Music by Rube Bloom To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Though Lou Dobbs for CNN Is counting once again, This time the days that Judy stays in jail, The Judy-days-in-jail pale in comparison With the days since Robert Novak's shrill betrayal. If we have to hear a count As the days of myst'ry mount, Why not count the days that no-count bum stays free? And CNN could show some real compassion If they'd say which fool won't fire that S.O.B. Here's another count we'd like Days till Chertoff takes a hike, Admitting it was his and Brownie's goof, That Bush's plan is more P.R. rehashin', That David Brooks's column is a spoof.
Music & Original Lyric by Cole Porter To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Once I was our daddy's fav'rite son. Got me in the Guard just in time. Then I found the Guard was not much fun. In and out on Daddy's dime. So I sent a soldier with a gun, Telling her to torture big time. Albert says they'll think she's having fun. Harriet knows it's no crime. We dismantled FEMA from day one. Harriet was in her prime. Knew our buddy Brownie'd come undone. How's that for a stitch in time? Then I named a justice they can't shun, Who I've known a long, long time. Knew I'd always be her Number One, Always her partner in crime. Counted on DeLay to get it done. Who knew graft was a crime? Harriet says I should cut and run, Not admit I backed his climb. Sorry to hear Wilma's in Can-cun, Gonna give you guys a hard time. Harriet is still my hired gun Pray you never need a dime.
Music by Jay Gorney To 'To 'Policies - Courts' |
Constituents, listen to me, tho' my love for all wars is far ranging, On HD-TV you can see the side that's been winning's been changing. So when storms in The Gulf both hit land for some claim I've altered the climate My brother and I thought it grand, the way God had managed to time it. We used to be very concerned about hurricanes hitting Florida, But as TV watchers have learned, storms hitting The Gulf can be horrida. New Orleans was ravaged by FEMA. Brown slowed refining resumption. Mississippii looked like Hiroshima. Motorists cut back consumption. And fortunately folks were too distraught to think about my debacle, Iraq To realize Rummy and I have no inkling As to when we can bring our boys back. So like 9/11 it gives us a chance to play upon ev'ryone's sorrow, And say, "S'il vous plait, go to hell, France. We're starting a new war tomorrow."
Music by Arthur Sullivan To 'Domestic Disasters' |
I've always been big on alibis, Missed perceptions and bald-faced lies, But now that the British have secured our skies I am grinning with all my might. I love the reimbursement of Big Oil dough After each anticipated Gulf Shore blow. Though Chertoff will be unprepared and not in the know, I'll be grinning with all my might. Chertoff's gamble that his arks Can be auctioned as to where each parks With naming rights for sale as each embarks Has got to be the cat's meow. Democrats who fly with cans of turpentine Stand accused of helping to fuel Palestine. Don't you feel secure with Cheney's morning line That I'm grinning with all my might?
Music by Duke Ellington To 'Bushie's Terrorists' |
Can ya see my digital finger? Can ya, huh? Not like my butt in a wringer, The first time, huh? Can't ya see Me pluggin' the levee leak? Where's my FEMA? I've been here a week. Gimme a little press, Will ya, huh? Why can't I be like Anderson Cooper, too? And make like I'm Geraldo doing a stunt for Fox, Or, if you think Sharon is watching, sharing a little lox? Aw, gimme a world that's warmer, Will ya, huh? And I'll promise a stonger storm fer you.
Music by Maceo Pinkard To 'Domestic Disasters' |
You did your budget cut thing and we know Pork wasn't among those you chose to forego. Now that Rove's FEMA needs funds for relief, Your plans to finance it will give us more grief. You'll try cutting taxes to favor the rich, And retire with your pensions Inspiring our bitch: "Give back your pork. Give back that bridge. Damn you, re-cork, And give back a smidge. "Give back your perks Your trips and free lunch. We'll find more jerks, Better'n your bunch. "You think that is going to be hard to arrange? Well, you're due for a heck of a shock. There's millions more like us who'd favor a change, Who'd love to clean Congress's clock. "So give back those minks They bought for your spouse. The thought of them stinks Up the Senate and House. "Don't be a dork Assist refugees By giving back pork And not learning Chinese."
Music & Original Lyric by Frank Loesser To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Bush claims God told him, Bushwhack Iraq, Then look for WMDs. Could Bush's mem'ry Be losing track? Why would God be such a tease? Then compound the problem by suggesting Brown for FEMA, but be jesting? Bush thinks God loves him. Well, whoop-de-doo No sign That's true!
Music by George Gershwin To 'Co-conspirators - FEMA' To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Do you see who's always first in line? We figure they can smell another monkeyshine With outlandish markups which is the strong suit Of Halliburton, Bechtel, Kellogg, Brown and Root. Storms and wars arising at Bush's end They know he can be counted on to be their friend And make it easy for some firms to get more loot, Like Halliburton, Bechtel, Kellogg, Brown and Root. Here they come, Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh FEMA better rig the bid. Ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh If we don't, their quid pro quo will yield less quid. We will need their dough around election time, And they know how to give it so it's not a crime, So contributions aren't a Tom DeLay crapshoot With Halliburton, Bechtel, Kellogg, Brown and Root.
Music by Harry Warren To 'Domestic Disasters' To 'Policies - Greed & Corruption' |
How many storms must an idiot see from two thousand feet in the air? How many days must an incumbent stall before we all see he's not there? How many floods must he visit with friends to show CNN he can care? One problem is he grinned and didn't look chagrined, And now he's blowin' in the wind. How many wars must an idiot start before he must cease and desist? How many foes can he torture and maim when they can no longer resist? How many boys will not be coming back because of the wars he'll insist Are only against the Muslims who have sinned, Whose Allah is blowing in the wind? How many hacks and old friends will he hire, cronies whose experience is none? How many firms won't have bid for their jobs to reconstruct the damage he's done? How many tots who have not yet been born will be bailing out this son of a gun? The problem you'll find is incumbents who don't mind And still don't know they're blowin' in the wind.
Music & Original Lyric by Bob Dylan |
On that nine-eleven a famous nit wit Sang "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow." And they said, "Mr. President, why do you sit Singing 'Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow.'? "After all you've been told, did you think that they lied? Or, unlike Cheney, have you no place to hide?" "Yes, to both questions, plus I'm not qualified, I'm yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow." Then he favored them all with his patented smirk Singing "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow. And if you'd asked The Guard, they'd have said I'm a jerk Who is yellow, so yellow, quite yellow. "I suspect I'd have made an incredible nun And to make matters worse I'm no good with a gun, Then having said that, he slipped on Air Force One Singing "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow." But in subsequent photo ops he has denied Singing "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow", Though those who were there say he looked petrified Singing "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow." So we'll have to await future history books To see if he's known for his petrified looks, And if he, like Cheney, was one of those schnooks Singing "Yellow, I'm yellow, I'm yellow."
Music by Arthur Sullivan To 'Domestic Disasters' |
If Bush had a hammer To hammer in New Orleans, A hammer with a handle, Would he understand A handle's for swinging The head of the hammer? A hammer's for swinging, Not for tapping and dinging, When you need to grandstand.
Music & Original Lyric by Lee Hays & Pete Seeger |
Must I keep a secret of An intestinal snafu As Katrina gathered strength, Even when it blew and blew? Say you lose track where you are, Like we drinkers often do, It still seems a bit bizarre Waking up in the wrong pew. So perhaps I sounded shrill, Screaming for a morning after pill, But I'd seen the place before And again could be a horrid bore. Flying over would be slick, But pills don't kick in quite that quick. The secret's not just where I was Tequila did what roughage does.
Music by Harry Warren |
Well the forces he used in his first war were a clue he's at heart a boozer, And those he'd lose in his second attempt proved him a natural born loser. But to be a snoozer through his Gulf Coast flood, Knowing he'd hired a horse judge dud, While we watched TV and could see him thud On his kerplunken? Kerplunkin', Kerplunkin', Kerplunkin' on his own kerplunken! A frightening thing to watch A third Bush Junior botch The "perfect" president kerplunkin', Kerplunkin', Kerplunkin', Once again on his kerplunken!
Music & Original Lyric by Meredith Willson |
Luck, prove the president's right Luck, prove the president's right Luck, if you have ever influenced the weather, Luck, prove the president's right. Luck, let climatologists see CO2's not warming the sea Or find one who'll inform us hurricanes are not enormous Because of what I still refuse to see. A president cannot abandon His Saudi friends to get more votes. A president can't flip-flop and admit he's wrong, Although we'll be living in boats. Luck, it's been a hell of fight Just to prove that I'm always right. Luck, no more Katrinas and no Wilhelminas Luck, can they impeach me for what these storms should teach me? Who needed Rita? Even incognita? Luck, prove this president's right!
Music & Original Lyric by Frank Loesser To 'Policies - Environment' |
Dead bodies? Dear me I wonder who Leaked to Judy that a few might be. Dead bodies near me? At least Rove knew Which to show with me on Fox TV Bootlicking politicians who don't blame me, Though without bath water lots are gamey, But on a TV Most can't smell who We let you view.
Music by George Gershwin |
We lack cohesion We're now by-jeezin' What to do, And speculating who Will sue. They're getting antsy Our fancy-pantsy Crews don't know If FEMA's dough should go To eeny meeny miny mo, Or oh, no And tell us whose con Should build an autobahn Canal In which Republican Locale. This disaster's the real McCoy Pray to God you're a good old boy, Like Halliburton, A moneymaking ploy.
Music by Richard Rodgers |
Did he know where you would go, Ophelia? Did he watch TV and flee, Ophelia? Golly,did he finally see That he prob'ly Couldn't get his act together? Even if you miss the coast, Ophelia, Looked like his career was toast, Ophelia. Why must Brownie Be the one they lop? Trickle-down should start at the top.
Music by Dave Dreyer To 'Co-conspirators - FEMA' |
Look what we've done to their town, Pa. Look what we've done to their town. It's a town that offended our religious right By staying open all night, Pa. Look what we've done to their town. Look what we've done to their coast, Pa. Look what we've done to their coast. As Haley said, we'll keep it red And make sure gambling boats are dead. Look what we've done to their coast. Watch what we'll do for our friends, Pa. Watch what we'll do for our friends. Environmental law that bends For firms that Cheney recommends Watch what we'll do for our friends. Look how we're quitting Iraq, Pa. Look how we're quitting Iraq. FEMA's badly out of whack Chance to bring the Army back. Look how we're quitting Iraq.
Music & Original Lyric by Melanie Safka To 'Policies - Greed & Corruption' To 'Policies - Quitting Iraq' |
We'd rebuild New Orleans, But won't have the means My tax cuts will interfere. Although it's not fair, The rich are who I care for They're there for me every year. While the media whines About the gas lines My policies helped to bring, They soon will see I can't stop the Mississippi From making a new bathtub ring. To rebuild New Orleans When I've wasted the means, Is not for the faint of heart. Of whom am I fonder? I'd much rather squander More on white people of means.
Music by Louis Alter To 'Policies - Security' |
Busy cutting brush, is he going to rush to deal with a minor diversion? "So your levee breaks? Why not pull up stakes and limit your time of immersion?" To avoid a repeat of Rove taking the heat for appointing incompetent phonies, Bush plans to export control of each port to a firm of Arabian cronies Yes, a firm of Arabian cronies, Who've promised a deal for his Dad. In addition they prob'ly know ponies Which is not necessarily bad. With their hands in the till he's sure Congress will ignore any prior transgressions. Those who view 9/11 as a highway to heaven shouldn't fear Cheney's hunting obsessions. Though some terrorists might express their delight at compatriots running Bar Harbor, Will financial gain for all but McCain compensate for repeats of Pearl Harbor In Kennebunkport, Or only impoverished Bar Harbor?
Music & Original Lyrics by Cole Porter To 'Bushie's Arabian Ports' |
Future hurricanes Need someone with brains, One whose resumé contains Proof that he already knows How a debacle goes: Generals like Myers, No one ever fires, Who don't recognize quagmires, Enamored of whatever blows And of Bush sideshows. Won't need armor He'll just have to learn to swim, Or, like Junior, Keep swinging from limb to limb. Are there any pips, Who have earned pink slips, Specializing in cow chips? Hacks and cronies Cheney chose? Rummy by a nose!
Music by Thomas "Fats" Waller To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Sediment, it's Bush's sediment That makes their sins so evident to all. It keeps news channels humming, While the president is strumming, While the levees fall. Who knew that he could play guitar or even carry a tune? His goal in flying over has been terribly misconstrewn The Rolling Stones won't hire him if he's wrinkled like a prune From his sediment, that's all. Sediment, it's Bush's sediment That makes their sins so evident to all. The mayor and the gov, Working hand and glove, Never got Mike's call. He would have phoned repeatedly but was preoccupied Trying to determine where Cheney chose to hide, Fearing that he might be shovelling against the tide In the sediment, that's all. Sediment, it's Bush's sediment That makes their sins so evident to all. Like who will get to loot? Not let FEMA give a hoot? But let Blackwater shoot? Whose pals will be permitted to make money out of muck? Don't fool yourself by thinking it involves beginner's luck Why all the trips in Air Force One? Rove fears he's run amok In his sediment, that's all.
Music & Original Lyric by Noel Coward |
Verse So angelic, yet an arcane relic Whose scowl is oft misunderstood, Like a Michael Jackson style priesthood, Up to no good If it could. With no acumen for acting human Nor desire to show restraint He should be rehearsin' To be a nicer person Which obviously he ain't. Chorus So he shot A Mahatma Gandhi From a spot Where Napoleon brandy In the Spring or Fall, or any time at all, Is strange, But an alcoholic can appear bucolic Home on the range, Where a sneer From a prize tale spinner And a beer With the host mule skinner In the dead of winter won't let a scowling squinter stop, When the cowboy on the bottom Wants the top.
Music & Original Lyrics by Cole Porter To 'Bushie's Domestic Disasters' |
Swim for your supper And you'll be better off, says Barb'ra Bush. Her heads up her tush, my dears. Swim off to Houston where she will let you Sleep on a flimsy cot, Where like as not you'll stay for years. She heard from the bird in charge You're willing to pay your way Bailing her Bushie's hay Three ninety-five a day. So bail for your supper And telll her her state is great Just don't admit you can't wait To leave A place where dopes are that naïve.
Music by Richard Rodgers |
It looks bad for The Great Pretender, Pretending his reign's going well, For inasmuch as he's out of touch He's again failed to answer the bell. We've all seen how The Great Pretender, So miffed that he'd go it alone With a war that became an insurgent shell game, Used a force Rummy'd pared to the bone. To feel you can steal oil before you leave, Is really to steal lives while thousands more grieve Sadly The Great Pretender Wears his grin instead of a frown Hoping we'll see, while he's trying to flee, That it won't be just them he's let down. Remember who watched New Orleans drown. To spiel how you'll heal and quickly relieve Storm victims, then turn on your heel and just leave Yes, that's The Great Pretender, Rushing to get out of town, Hoping we'll see what he told us he'd be, A worthy successor to Brown, Before abdicating his crown.
Music & Original Lyric by Buck Ram To 'Domestic Disasters' |
After presenting his medal To Michaels Chertoff and Brown, Who will design a new medal For not letting so many drown? For not misinforming the country With lies the way George Tenet did? For not banning Baathists like Bremer, For not making contractors bid?
Music & Original Lyric by Charles K. Harris To 'Domestic Disasters' |
When goofing off with Mike Chertoff whose goofs are now legerdemainy His metal detector always warns the director I have birdshot belonging to Cheney. When I swim around town with Bushie's Mike Brown whose heck of a job's down the drainy, Though I feel in the pink, I now tend to sink because of that birdshot from Cheney Yes, my birdshot belongs to Cheney And though I don't feel all that bad, Like millions of angry Iraqis, I'm beginning to think I've been had. For if I complain of occasional pain the White House will claim I'm a Daney And render me where cartoonists don't dare to liken Muhammad to Cheney. I now seldom forget what I'm s'posed to get, though not previously thought of as brainy. Magnetic updaters made for refridgerators are a godsend to birds shot by Cheney.
Music & Original Lyrics by Cole Porter To 'Bushie's Domestic Disasters' |
Three little FEMA fools are we, Late like all FEMA fools should be, Hoping like hell they won't need we Three little FEMA fools. Nothing of course is getting done. Brownie insists it can't be begun Until he gets the word from Air Force One Three little FEMA fools. Three FEMA fools who find it scary When bodies float in a cemetery That wasn't on our itinerary Three little FEMA fools. One FEMA fool is an ex-Rum-Dum Two FEMA fools want some Rummy scum To arrive first and attack the slum Three little FEMA fools. Three FEMA fools won't go away Now that Junior has agreed to pay Them and his friends so they all make hay Three little FEMA fools.
Music by Arthur Sullivan To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh New Orleans, Uh New Orleans, So, where'd you go? My praying Has been stronger Than Brownie's I know Uh uh uh uh uh Showing I know your levees That we failed Should be Uh uh renewed. New Orleans, To keep you And not disown Whatever, Along with bold Empty promises Planned to show How soon till I uh say Uh hold my hand. New Orleans, Could take longer To try to show you Uga uga uga uga Just how well I tread water, Uga uga ug and ballyhoo My help for you.
Music & Original Lyric by Maurice Williams To 'Domestic Disasters' |
Who's sorry now? Who's sorry now? Whose Brownie troop Proved you didn't know how? Who's sad and blue? Who more than you? Who saw your resumé, too? Who knew you're slow, Often don't show, Yet re-elected you somehow? Who had a say? Who stayed a way? Who's sorry you're sorry now?
Music by Rube Bloom To 'Bush, The Dummy' |
Why worry 'bout me? Your National Guard Is now overseas They're fighting my wars. Though they say my Alamo Is over, you know I still must depend On them every day Till I find a way To make the thing end. So fend for yourself Is my new rule. Hurricanes and storm surge May wipe out quite a few, But I am no fool. I know it's damn hard When your National Guard Isn't where it should be. But at least I'm not wet Why worry 'bout me?
Music by Rube Bloom To 'Domestic Disasters' |