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Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest

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Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest - Hallo friendsWord comes, In the article you read this time with the title Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest, We have prepared this article for you to read and retrieve information therein. Hopefully the contents of postings Article economy, Article general, Article health, Article News, Article politics, Article sports, We write this you can understand. Alright, good read.

Title : Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest
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Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest

It seems almost retro to say we’re in this place again, but welp, here we are, cowering under our literal and figurative desks once more. And not just to avoid an active shooter armed with 23 pieces of military-grade artillery festooned with bump-stocks and silencers dispensed as free samples at a gun show, either!

No.

This time, we’re taking cover from two active sociopaths—one of whom happens to be the figure-head President of the United States—and both of whom seem bound and determined to return Planet Earth to its origins in the Milky Way just to prove whose dick is the yoogest and fairest in all the land.

The fact that no one will actually remain alive to rule definitively on this question has not deterred Fascist Senile Cantaloupe and Sentient Cabbage Patch Kid from holding humanity hostage in their global peen-measuring contest.

It's all good though, because the FAKE NEWS is here with this BOMBSHELL (pun intended) piece from Newsweek chock full o’ tips to survive a nuclear blast! Let’s break these down and see just how realistic this guidance actually is:

“Experts recommend being on the lookout for emergency alerts that could come in the form of text messages.”

Okay, first of all, my iPhone sends me push notifications from trash-ass apps my kids download on the reg. This could easily devolve into a “boy who cried wolf” situation. Like when I hear one of those loud pings, pangs, bings, or dings, how do I know it’s not Barbie Dreamtopia Magical Hair telling me that new hair fashions are available for in-app purchase, as opposed to The Donald telling me that he finally pulled the trigger on the ultimate rage-quit? Second of all, I’m sure Trump’s text will get lost among the zillions of group texts and FB messages on which I routinely find myself, despite making it clear in no uncertain terms that group texts and messages are Satan’s handiwork. This whole “nuclear-blast-text-lost-in-the-shuffle” is exactly why.
“It can take up to as little as ten minutes for a nuclear bomb to strike the U.S. giving no time to buy emergency supplies.”
Clearly the person who came up with this tip doesn’t have the Amazon Dash Button. Thanks to Jeff Bezos, you can now order Charmin and Cheezits right from your bathroom and they will be on your doorstep immedes. So I’m confident that ten minutes is MORE than enough time to procure the Nyquil, Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food frozen yogurt, Four Loko, and heirloom tomatoes (among other bare necessities) required to survive the nuclear apocalypse.
“Likely targets of a nuclear attack include strategic missile sites and bases, D.C. government centers, ports and petroleum refineries.”
D.C. is a fucking swamp in every sense of the word, and everyone who lives there should move anyway. That festering boil was officially canceled on 11/9/16. Otherwise, it sounds like you’re probably fine unless your house is in Prudhoe Bay or Cape Canaveral.
“Staying inside in the event of a nuclear blast is key. After 20 minutes of the blast, radioactive flurries and toxic matter will begin to fall. Fallout is especially dangerous during the first two weeks.”
Staying inside for two weeks is gonna be a fucking CAKE WALK, fam! My bed is already my favorite place on earth! The one teensy wrinkle is that I might be overcome by curiosity about “radioactive flurries” and be tempted to go outside with a black-light and see if we can maybe organize n end-times rave.
“If radioactive material gets on your clothing, government officials say taking off the outer layer can eliminate 90 percent of the radioactive material.”
But what happens to the other 10%? Will it give me glow-in-the-dark titties? Gawd that would be bananas, amirite? Here’s hoping!
"Get down, cover your head, don't stand there in the middle of Central Park and gawk. Get under something."
It’s too bad Harvey Weinstein had to fly to Europe for “sex addiction” treatment because his number one skill is getting on top of people. A nuclear blast would finally give that repellent bloated sack of gelatinous hirsute shit something useful to do with his “addiction” to jumping people’s bones. This is right in his wheelhouse. FREE HARVEY! The whole planet depends on it!
“FEMA suggests camping out in underground spaces underneath large buildings before the blast. Experts also encourage hiding in a central location with no windows.”
Bruh! I love camping! Based on this description, the State of Alaska’s centralized mail room in the basement of the State Office Building in Juneau is the perfect place to pitch a tent and roast some s’mores over an open uranium fire.
“With a nuclear bomb eminent [sic.] experts warn [against] looking at the blast. Unlike the eclipse, special glasses won’t save you in the event of nuclear destruction, which causes a light so strong it's brighter than the sun and will blind you. Experts urge keeping your mouth open to keep your eardrums from bursting. If you live close enough to the blast, chances of survival are slim.”
So let’s dispense with the elephant in the room: After the Nuclear Holocaust, no one will care about the difference between “imminent” and “eminent” anymore, to the extent they ever did. Much less will anyone know where to track down those special eclipse glasses that everyone threw out ten seconds after the eclipse was over. I’m sure when the Blinding Light of Impending Doom sears our retinas, we'll all remember to open our mouths so that our eardrums don’t burst, but also so that little specks of cosmic dust get into our lungs, presumably. But this only applies if you live far away from the blast. If you live close by, you might as well look right at that mushroom cloud with your mouth closed and your ears and eyes wide open so that all of your senses are fully engaged in your last moments on earth and you die looking like one of those little rubber stress dolls that you squeeze and the ears and tongue and eyeballs bulge out comically.
“A 2014 study published in The Royal Society found that most homes and buildings will not be able to withstand a nuclear blast.”
Actually forget everything you just read. We're all fucked and we're all gonna die! JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEL!





Thus Article Newsweek Has Great Tips on Surviving Two Sociopaths Blowing Up the Planet to Prove Whose Dick is the Yoogest

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