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We Are The Seven White Guys Without Masks In Your Tiny Little Airport
Getting a rise out of you gets a rise out of us.
By Summer Koester and Donnie Gott
Check us out, seven white guys without masks in your tiny little airport! Booya! We don’t care that the sign clearly says “MASKS REQUIRED,” or that the COVID-19 risk level in your small fishing town is currently at “high.” You know what we care about? Fishing and cornhole. We’re really good at getting little things into holes.
Are you mad because we’re sports-grunting our spittle around your unvaccinated children? Fantastic! Getting a rise out of you gets a rise out of us, if you catch our drift, and you’re pretty hot when you’re angry.
Do you think some official is going to force the Great Cornholios to cover their beards with a face diaper? Rules are for cucks, sheeple, and anyone sporting a uterus. “Masks Required” as it applies to us is merely a suggestion, like turn signals, life jackets, and consent.
We are White Men endowed with certain inalienable rights, among which is the right to breathe unobstructed by facial coverings. You can tell by our whiteness and how we manspread our legs over two seats each that we are, obviously, 100% inalien.
