An ounce of high explosive won’t take down a plane. Even at cruising altitude.

The problem with useful idiots is that they are still idiots.

Apparently, the solution to this is retrorockets -

Once clear of the plane a single large main chute opens. The deployment of the main chute triggers the deployment of four long rods which hang beneath the pallet. As soon as the rods touch the ground fires, slowing the BMD to a descending speed between 6 m/s and 7 m/s and giving it a relatively soft landing. This system entered service in 1975 and allows a BMD to be relatively safely parachuted with both the driver and the gunner.

Fuck off right off with that briefcase shit, the only non-cringe nuke is the Davy Crockett. Russia’s got fuck all to say to the atomic recoilless rifle of freedom.

Imagine developing interstellar travel and not taking the time to teach you guys how to drive.

Hitting a pasture and landing in cow shit would account for “non-human biologics.” I’m incredibly skeptical.

A former intel officer testified to a house committee that the US has had a UFO retrieval program for years, and that we’ve recovered non-human “biologics” from the crash sites. He has no direct knowledge of anything, by his own admission, but he’s willing to provide more detail to congress in a secure facility.

I’ll keep the possibility open, I guess, but it sounds like absolute bullshit for a variety of reasons.

Zelensky is 5’7” (153.88 in non-freedom units), which coincidentally is the same as Putin’s height. Also, Pootpoot is widely suspected of wearing lifts in his shoes.

Where all the planefuckers at?

You know he’s going to wind up being president of Russia, right? I don’t know how, but there’s going to be some ridiculous series of events that will put Luka in the Kremlin.

Ok, hypothetical scenario:

Putin’s kickin’ it at the Kremlin, looking at old maps and catalogs for table-lengthening products, the usual; let’s say it’s tomorrow a bit before lunch time. Phone rings, it’s Luka and Pringlecan prank calling him from a burner. Anyway, after establishing that his refrigerator is running, and the boys laughing and making rooster noises at him, Vladka loses his shit like he always does. But this time, that cerebral AVM he’s had since birth, it just can’t take the pressure, and - pop. He mutters some stroked out gibberish and falls out a conveniently placed open window, splat.

What happens in Russia? Does someone take power or does it devolve into a struggle? Non-credible answers only, plz.

Panzerpede