So, like, there's this huge sattelite, see, that we put up last year, but, like everything this administration does, it doesn't work for shit, and it turns out it's going to, like, enter the atmosphere or something, and, like, the fuel tank's full of this really toxic crap because, well, it makes sense to use really toxic crap when you're putting up something that rotates around the world and burns up into zillion pieces if it re-enters the atmosphere because we screwed it up or something, and so the really, really simplest way to deal with it is the way Americans have always dealt with shit that goes wrong: we're going to blow it up into a zillion million pieces on March 6th so all those pieces can re-enter the atmosphere like everywhere. This is called supply-side aeronautics (and that's an economics joke, so nevermind).
Which normally would kind of upset me--the idea that burning hunks of space junk are going to be falling from the sky and we don't know where--but the Wonkette and her readers are so absolutely cynical and funny about the whole thing that it somehow makes me feel better: kind of like the surgeons in the film version of M*A*S*H who could crack jokes while arteries are spurting.
The Lovely Wonkette
It just goes to show, snark will get you through burning hydrazine every time.
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