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We Got This Covered
We Got This Covered
David James

Pete Hegseth opens his own Strait of Hormuz in public flatulence episode, mocked by Iran officials

Something that makes sense finally emerged from one of Pete Hegseth‘s orifices. Unfortunately for the world, said orifice wasn’t his mouth.

As Pete Hegseth took the podium yesterday to deliver some equal parts terrifying and insane proclamations about killing thousands in the name of Jesus Christ, his butt pre-empted him with an announcement of its own:

“Phrrrp”

This is the noblest, sanest, and most honest exclamation that Hegseth has made in months. And, frankly, probably the most pleasant too.

Say what you like about Iran, but at least its leaders don’t usually do this before the world’s media (or, if they do, they have the muscle control to ensure a silent, stealthy release). As such, the Iranian state is gleefully pointing and laughing at the windy Secretary of War:

“The Strait is opened.”

Well, I guess they’re right. It’s a tiny victory, but the Secretary of War has indeed managed to allow traffic through at least one restricted channel. It’s a small start, but you have to begin somewhere.

The trump perogative

In reality, Hegseth is merely participating in a key MAGA tradition of farting, wetting, or even soiling themselves in public. For example, Rudy Giuliani was famously afflicted by flatulence in a court hearing in 2020:

And, of course, there’s the rumored incident in early 2026 when Donald Trump fully soiled himself, causing panicked White House staffers to immediately order press out of the room as onlookers held their noses:

Now, we have no absolute confirmation that Trump did indeed lose control and fill his pants. Frankly, even if there were photographic evidence proving it, I wouldn’t want to see it. But hey, the guy’s nearly 80 and uh, stuff happens.

The world would be a better place if these were the only bombs these men dropped. But, sadly, we all have to live in a world that’s metaphorically been hotboxed by all of them. They have made our planet their own personal dutch ovens, you can’t hold your breath forever, and sooner or later, you’re going to have to smell it.

But hey, if I had to choose between listening to the vibrating soft tissues of their anal sphincter or the evil garbage that spews from their head-holes, I’m going with the guffs every time.

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