Humor: Mr. Trump or: How I learned to stop worrying and sell weapons to the Saudis

Humor: Mr. Trump or: How I learned to stop worrying and sell weapons to the Saudis

Photo Credits: DAVIS WHALEN / AGGIE

EMBRACE THE BOMBS!

Ugh. I’m so bored. I just feel like making absurd amounts of cash through selling disgusting degrees of dangerous weapons to the people who helped fund 9/11. I mean, what else is there to do? I own property all over the world, I’ve been with most of the available prostitutes and porn stars and, frankly, I’ve already destroyed most of the integrity that my country has (whatever scraps it still has after the numerous war crimes committed over the past years in Afghanistan and Iraq — I mean, Bush really didn’t leave many atrocities for me). What’s there left to do? Why, ignore blatant journalistic assassinations and sell dumb amounts of super high tech missiles to our effective enemies!

I mean, what’s all this fear about guns and missiles? Why are we so scared? It doesn’t even affect us. I could sit in Trump Tower all day long with former porn stars and not worry one bit about a super high-tech missile flying through my window. It’s not like anyone is really being affected by the weapons we sell. What’s that you say? Yemen? Where’s that?

I think everyone just needs to chill out. Like, what’s the big deal? Sure, the U.S. has the unbelievable capability of shooting missiles through doorways and carpet bombing the everloving shit out of anyone it feels like, so who cares if other countries can do this too? If anything, it makes a lot of money for the country and all of our beloved arms dealers, so I don’t really see what gets people up in arms whenever I sell $110 million in weapons to a country like Saudi Arabia. Like come on, everyone, just embrace it.

Embrace the bombs.

Written by: Aaron Levins — adlevins@ucdavis.edu