Showing posts with label Nuclear war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nuclear war. Show all posts

While Undergoing Surgery, Putin Puts His Personally Trained KGB Cat “Buttons” in Charge of the Entire Russian Nuclear Arsenal

"Buttons' -- The KGB Trained Cat -- Takes a Bathroom Break Before Re-assuming Tactical and Strategic Nuclear Command." 

 Copyright © 2022 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

President Trump Orders Upgrade of U.S. Nuclear Arsenal to Include Atomic Hand Grenades?

Vah-Vah Kah-Boom!
-- Washing, D. C.

By Robert W. Armijo

In an effort to upgrade what President Donald J. Trump considers is America’s out of date nuclear arsenal, he has ordered the military to come up with smaller nuclear devices to be used on the battlefield by individual soldiers.

In fact, the president himself offered the military an idea he came up with while in the Oval office.

“It’s a wonderful idea, Mr. President,” said a senior member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, as he glanced down at the weapon of mass destruction that was hastily sketched on a napkin; noticing a slight tremor in his hand that he attempted to consciously tried to conceal but could not control.
He passed it on to the others in the Oval Office hoping someone would object.

No one did.

Instead, all praised the president, as they passed along the design for an atomic hand grenade with the word “BOOM!” where a mushroom cloud would be, set against a field of asher blue and white bearing the official White House embalm.

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Copyright© 2018 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

President Donald J. Trump Wires Nuclear Button to “The Clapper”

"How do I know it works unless I test it?'"
"No, Mr. President, don't!"
-- Washington, D.C.

By Robert W. Armijo

Declaring it a matter of national security, President Donald J. Trump ordered White House maintenance workers to wire the nuclear button on his desk in the Oval Office to “The Clapper” – an electronic device which allows a table lamp to be turned on or off by simply clapping one’s hands -- next to his bed.

“The president ordered the instillation of the device when he realized he didn’t have to walk all the way down stairs in the middle of the night to his desk in the Oval Office to push the nuclear button, should he deem it necessary,” said a White House spokesman.

White House maintenance crew wires
the nuclear button on the president's desk
to "The Clapper" at his bedside.  

“All the president has to do now to start a nuclear war is clap his hands,” said a spokesman for the Bulletin of The Atomic Scientists, keepers of the doomsday clock. “So we are having an emergency meeting of our members to vote on whether or not to move the big hand of the analogue doomsday clock one minute to midnight.”

Photo(s) Courtesy of: By Charles (talk) (Uploads) - Own work, Public Domain,

Copyright© 2018 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

JFK’s Secret Baby Boomer Tapes: Well, ah, the Cuban Missile Crisis Didn’t Turnout Like We’d Hoped…Maybe, ah, This Gig in Vietnam Will Do the Trick?

The following is a transcript taken from a reel-to-reel magnetic tape recording of a series of White House conversations made by President John F. Kennedy (JFK) between himself and his Secretary of Defense, McNamara, Robert Strange -- Also known as "Dr. Strangelove" from the 1964 movie: Dr. Strangelove; or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb by Stanley Kubrick.

It was acquired by at a yard sale from a former Vanity Fair photographer for a dollar. How it came into his possession is unknown.

Be advised, although the transcription of the secret JFK is believed to be authentic, the tapes themselves appear questionable and therefore by no means does stand by its story.

Be advised, reading the following transcript may forever change your perception of the Kennedy Camelot legend.

JFK: John F. Kennedy, President

RSM: Robert "Dr. Strangelove" McNamara, Secretary of Defense

Transcript Begins:

JFK: Though we pushed our scientists to the limit – even resorting to kidnapping their daughters – yet The Pill was invented too late to prevent the so-called baby boom, McNamara.

RSM: Baby Boom? More like population bomb, if you ask me.

JFK: Also, we all know the Supreme Court is still so conservative, it’s at least a decade away from legalizing abortion. So there you have it in a nutshell, McNamara: Too many mouths to feed and not enough food, clothes or little red schoolhouses to school them. Not to mention how we’re going to pay their social security checks when they retire? We just have to find a way to thin the herd.

RSM: What about Cuba?

JFK: No, McNamara. We already tired that remember? And geez what a disaster. I still don’t think that spin you put out on me not knowing about it worked. There are still a lot of people that think I had something to do with it. For God sakes, Robert, my own wife thinks I had something to do with it. Thank God she doesn’t suspect anything is going on between Marilyn and me. Thank God for little brothers that are willing to take the fall.

RSM: I mean something bigger than the mere invasion of the Bay of Pigs, Mr. President.

JFK: What?! Goddamn it, McNamara! If you got a plan for God sakes, stop jerking me around and spit it out.

RSM: Very well, Mr. President. How about making some doctored up high altitude photographs of Russian missile bases on Cuban soil and then presenting them to a special meeting of the General Assembly of the UN?

JFK: Nah, it won’t work. We’ll never get it passed the mainstream media and the American people are too smart to fall for such a trick…Unless you present it as weapons of mass destruction [WMD’s] sitting right on our back doorstep. Is that what you mean, McNamara?

RSM: That’s right, Mr. President. Only land based nuclear missiles that could be launched from Cuba -- or perhaps sea based nuclear missiles launched from a submarine offshore somewhere -- could reach the continental U.S., destroying us all in a matter of --

JFK: Destroying us all in a matter of seconds, as opposed to minutes. Is that right, McNamara? Is that what you were going to say?

RSM: Yes, Mr. President.

JFK: Well, I won’t tolerate it. And the American people shouldn’t have to tolerate it, either. It’s every American’s God given right to the pursuit of happiness. And to do that, he needs time. And seconds is not enough time to do that much pursuing. Which reminds me: Have my baby brother, Bobby, send some flowers from me to Marilyn. And make sure he uses his name this time.

RSM: So, Mr. President, we proceed with project code name: Cuban Missile Crisis?

JFK: Proceed away, McNamara. Proceed away…Oh, and let my wife and kids into the Oval Office on your way out and tell that fella from Vanity Fair that I’m ready for my family portrait photo shoot now.

Back on the Record…Thirteen Days Later.

JFK: Well, ah, the Cuban Missile Crisis didn’t turnout like we’d hoped…Maybe, ah, this gig in Vietnam will do the trick?

RSM: We better get working on that Trojan Horse ‘Man on the Moon’ job right of way.

JFK: Yeah, I agree. We’re, ah, gonna need a backup plan. Just in case this, ah, Mao Zedong guy pulls a Khrushchev on us. What’s going on now days? I can remember a time when you could count on bad guys to do the wrong thing. Look at Hitler and Mussolini. Now there’s a couple of bad guys that knew not what to do. And you could count on them to do it, every time. But Khrushchev, I couldn’t even get him to play a little hardball with me without him caving in right away. Our missiles were hot, baby. I mean really hot; as in ready to go all the way to the Kremlin, baby…Somebody get my baby brother, Bobby, on the phone and see if he sent those flowers yet.

RSM: What do you think happened to Premier Khrushchev, Mr. President?

JFK: My guess is that he got cold feet.

RSM: That’s bound to happen in a Cold War, Mr. President.

JFK: Yeah, but what bothers me is that I warned him to keep his shoes on at the UN. We have air-conditioning in American, you know. But he just didn’t listen. The man thought he was a Goddamn polar bear.

RSM: They’re dying, you know?

JFK: What?

RSM: The polar bears are dying. All due to global warming, Mr. President.

JFK: Well I’ll damned. Maybe that’s the trick. Right under our noses all this time.

RSM: What, Mr. President?

JFK: Global warming! Why not let that kill off the Baby Boomers?

RSM: The Baby...what, sir?

JFK: The Baby Boomers. That’s what I call them.

RSM: So we don’t start a war in Vietnam. Or start shipping the ‘Baby Boomers’ to the moon, Mr. President?

JFK: No, no. We still do all that. But also let’s bury this report on global warming so deep that by the time anybody finds it, the public – especially those pesky Baby Boomers -- will be too apathetic to demand that industry and their government do anything about it.

RSM: Okay, Mr. President. But where do we bury it?

JFK: I got it! How about the moon!?

RSM: It might take a little time, Mr. President. But it just so happens that I have a contact at NASA. Consider the report on global warming as good as lost. Encased in a black non-descriptive monolith, buried somewhere on the surface of the moon.

JFK: Buried somewhere on the surface of the moon. The moon! The Moon!! THE MOON!!!

Years Later…

Jim Lovell (Apollo 13): Houston, we have a problem.

Transcript Ends???

Copyright © 2008-2012 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

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