Trump Wants To ButtFuck A Nuke & Send It to the Iranians

You know what keeps me up at night: How the fuck did we let one man's wounded pride potentially trigger World War III?

The acrid taste of betrayal still burns in my throat when I think about 2018. Picture this: you're watching the most delicate, intricate diplomatic dance in modern history—six world powers moving in perfect synchronization, defusing what could have been humanity's next great catastrophe. Then some orange-faced fucking toddler stomps onto the stage, kicks over the chess board, and sets the whole goddamn theater on fire.

This isn't just politics, people. This is the story of how Donaldo Shitsburger's bruised ego became the match that lit the fuse to our collective destruction.

The Sweet Taste of What Could Have Been

Let me paint you a picture so vivid you can smell the Persian saffron and feel the desert sand between your toes. Iran in 2015 wasn't the boogeyman we see today—it was a nation slowly, carefully stepping back from the nuclear precipice. The Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action wasn't just some bureaucratic bullshit; it was a fucking miracle wrapped in diplomatic paper and sealed …