What is the meaning of life? To endlessly twirl in the cosmic vastness like a nuclear warhead waiting for its GPS signal? As I, Jack Superblack, ponder the sweet embrace of the void, a little birdie chirps the latest brouhaha straight from the depths of paranoia's playground: the United States is now playing fortune teller, warning allies that Russia could be plotting to tango with gravity by escorting a nuclear guest of honor into orbit this year.
The irony isn't lost on me – dividing intelligence, much like my thoughts on whether to have cereal or the eternal sleep for breakfast. And while American officials were informing NATO and Asian pals about Moscow’s potential space ballroom blitz, President Vladimir V. Putin and his defense minister, "Definitely-Not-Joking" Ivanov, danced around the allegations, claiming this script rewrite was just a ploy for a cash dump into Ukraine’s tip jar.
Apparently, these intelligence folks are more divided than my decision-making on a two-for-one bridge-jumping sale. Putin has rejected the notion with the casual denial you give when your mother asks if you've been eating enough vegetables, while Ivanov suggests this orbital guesstimation is about as credible as my plans to learn macrame – and live to showcase it.
As we spin our own version of life’s newsreel, remember: the only thing guaranteed to orbit faster than these accusations is the gossip and maybe, just maybe, that one single bachelor sock in your laundry that keeps on disappearing. On that note, here's a morbid thought to chuckle you into the abyss: dying alone is like missing the last train home, only there's no cold station bench to wait on – just eternal, outright chilling.
Based on the original article "U.S. Warns Allies Russia Could Put a Nuclear Weapon Into Orbit This Year".
