Practice The appearance last week of a giant wang in the heavens over Luke Air Force Base in Arizona was passed off by Air Force PR officers as an accident.
“Contrails forming a gigantic cock and balls in the air were accidentally formed by fighter jets engaged in simulated dogfight maneuvers,” was what the Air Force officially said. This follows an incident two years ago in which Navy pilots were reprimanded for deliberately inscribing an aerial Johnson for all of Washington State to see. The “accident” story is probably just a lie. I smell cover-up in the Arizona skies. Obviously, the American military is trying to demonstrate its sky schlong superiority. To whom is classified. To the Russians or the Chinese, maybe, or it could be to those aliens that keep buzzing fighter jets on the East Coast.
Combine this with the roll-out of the Space Force, though, and the answer becomes apparent. Trump wants the US to return to the Moon, and while many people are saying “WTF for?” the answer should be apparent in the air—the Space Force plans to draw a dingus on the lunar surface.
The urge to cover bare surfaces with penis pictures is as old as the human race. Those graceful cave paintings of hunter and prey in the south of France get all the publicity. Anthropologists keep their mouths shut about the cave after cave they discover that are just all smeared up with crude dick pics. Most of the Pharaohs’ tombs that have been discovered have at least one phallus carved into their sarcophagi. The Trojans snickered as they painted the outside of that wooden horse with crudely drawn chubbies, which really pissed off the Greeks inside and resulted in the Trojans being even more completely slaughtered than they would have been otherwise.
Today, thanks to modern permanent marker technology and indoor plumbing, badly drawn dicks proliferate all over the public bathroom stalls of our nation. Just the right tool and a touch of constipation result in thousands of acts of penis-centric vandalism a day. And when a follow-up artist sits in the same stall and pulls out a marker of his own, draws a crude stick figure with its legs spread before that toilet willy, and labels it “Your mom,” it forms a thoughtful illustration of most human striving throughout the course of history.
“Really? We’d go back to the Moon just to graffiti it? What about science? What about exploration?” I hear you saying that, but it’s more important in the long run to have the Dick in the Moon reminding other nations of American exceptionalism as it sails through their drab foreign skies. Let them grit their crooked and gapped teeth as they are made to realize nightly that the US is the only nation with the might and the will to vandalize the solar system.
Of course, some other nations are planning a run at lunar exploration themselves, and we have to be alert to foreign attempts to edit American accomplishments.
What’s Chinese for “your mom?”
“Contrails forming a gigantic cock and balls in the air were accidentally formed by fighter jets engaged in simulated dogfight maneuvers,” was what the Air Force officially said. This follows an incident two years ago in which Navy pilots were reprimanded for deliberately inscribing an aerial Johnson for all of Washington State to see. The “accident” story is probably just a lie. I smell cover-up in the Arizona skies. Obviously, the American military is trying to demonstrate its sky schlong superiority. To whom is classified. To the Russians or the Chinese, maybe, or it could be to those aliens that keep buzzing fighter jets on the East Coast.
Combine this with the roll-out of the Space Force, though, and the answer becomes apparent. Trump wants the US to return to the Moon, and while many people are saying “WTF for?” the answer should be apparent in the air—the Space Force plans to draw a dingus on the lunar surface.
The urge to cover bare surfaces with penis pictures is as old as the human race. Those graceful cave paintings of hunter and prey in the south of France get all the publicity. Anthropologists keep their mouths shut about the cave after cave they discover that are just all smeared up with crude dick pics. Most of the Pharaohs’ tombs that have been discovered have at least one phallus carved into their sarcophagi. The Trojans snickered as they painted the outside of that wooden horse with crudely drawn chubbies, which really pissed off the Greeks inside and resulted in the Trojans being even more completely slaughtered than they would have been otherwise.
Today, thanks to modern permanent marker technology and indoor plumbing, badly drawn dicks proliferate all over the public bathroom stalls of our nation. Just the right tool and a touch of constipation result in thousands of acts of penis-centric vandalism a day. And when a follow-up artist sits in the same stall and pulls out a marker of his own, draws a crude stick figure with its legs spread before that toilet willy, and labels it “Your mom,” it forms a thoughtful illustration of most human striving throughout the course of history.
“Really? We’d go back to the Moon just to graffiti it? What about science? What about exploration?” I hear you saying that, but it’s more important in the long run to have the Dick in the Moon reminding other nations of American exceptionalism as it sails through their drab foreign skies. Let them grit their crooked and gapped teeth as they are made to realize nightly that the US is the only nation with the might and the will to vandalize the solar system.
Of course, some other nations are planning a run at lunar exploration themselves, and we have to be alert to foreign attempts to edit American accomplishments.
What’s Chinese for “your mom?”
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