Ukraine unleashed a drone attack on Russian data centers that wiped out millions of internet bots and the Truth Social comment section… And instead of praising democracy’s war on disinformation, Donald Trump rebranded the extermination of his faux-fascist fans as ‘The Trump Holocaust,’ while feeling catfished by his imaginary friends, made Emo Musk take his ball satellites and go home.
You see, this administration is nothing more than a dirty joke—and not the kind you tell your girlfriend when she asks, “What’s a Dice Clay?” I mean, unless you consider the Russian hooker with the backwards fingers, Trump never had a funny bone in his entire body. No, he’s the type of joke even Elon warns his kids to retweet under a burner account. For Donald Trump, “United we stand, divided we fall” was never a warning; it was the electoral cheat code required to make an unremarkable dick seem hold-your-nose fuckable.
Palantir’s CTO claims he’s so confident that AI will cure cancer that he started smoking cigarettes… Sure, he means it in an asteroid-‘cured’-the-dinosaurs sorta way. Because admitting we’ll be extinct from AI long before it understands the difference between a third nut and a first tumor is what shareholders call a Bull-Market boner-killer.
Apparently, Humans have been at the top of the food chain for so long that we’ve gotten cocky. I mean, look at AI. It’s like if the world’s smartest seals could build whatever the fuck they wanted, and all they came up with was an immortal great white with tapeworms. Don’t get me wrong, AI promising to extend our lives to 150 sounds great. But I’m only 38-ish—47 with no filter. If I make it to a buck thirty and someone tells me I’ve still got another twenty left, I’m mumbling, ‘See you in hell, sonny,’ and as soon as I find my dentures, I’m cutting the brakes on my Stannah stairlift.
“See You In Hell, Sonny!!”
