A man explains the real reason he won’t wear a mask

Listen up, sheeple! As a real man who can grow a beard just like Donald Trump Jr. and those guys who plotted to kidnap that governor, I’m here to tell you in a loud, aggressive manner why you won’t see me wearing a stupid face mask anytime soon. You didn’t even ask but I’m going to tell you because I’ve got you cornered here, plus free speech and being an emboldened white man.

No, I said “embolden,” not “I’m baldin’.” I shave my head on purpose, yo!

The government says it wants us to wear masks to “protect ourselves” and “stop the spread of COVID” and “not kill Grandma.” But that’s not what this is about. No sir. This is about the Government plotting to take away our liberties and our God-given right to fullfacedness.

But as a patriot of the greatest country on Earth, where my own personal needs and comfort are second only to loving the flag and whatever overly compensated sports team plays in my geographical area, I am here to say I refuse!

I refuse because I am a free white man! I refuse because I get angry and frustrated when understand things.

But mostly I refuse because I’ve realized from wearing a mask that my breath smells like a gas station men’s room.

I am deeply outraged that the Government expects me to marinate my lower face in the rancid fug of my own pie hole. If they think they can force me to subject myself to the dank fumes that seep out my mouth like discarded styrofoam meat trays left in a hot car, they got another “stink” coming.

At first, I was like you. I followed orders. I did what “science” and “common sense” told me. I wore a mask. Plus, I needed a new noise amplifier for my leaf blower, and they wouldn’t let me into Blowhardware without one. Hey, those neighbors aren’t going to annoy themselves, you know!

So one day I’ve got my camoprint mask on, feeling okay about it, especially the way it complements my many gold chains and “All-terrain Or Die” tank top, and I’m going into the store, when I say to myself, “Did someone open a bag of moist hockey gear? Do I smell cream-of-diaper soup?”

Then I realized, no! It was me! What I was smelling was the crypt breath from my own tongue cave. All my rancid lunch funk was trapped under the mask, made even worse by my festering beard curd.

And I knew then and there that it went against God’s immaculate design to force a person’s nose to recirculate in such close proximity to one’s own mouth, especially when said malodorous orifice stinks like the yawn of a gingivitis-prone cat after a long nap. With that mask on, I was unable to socially distance my nose holes from

I don’t fully my gut funnel.

That is why I will not wear a mask. I have a primordial right to protect my personal health and well-being from the hell-rot of my own burrito dump.

More importantly, masks impinge on my freedom to do with my sewerspewer what the Good Lord designed it for: to breathe Hell’s own maggot breath on those I inflict my unwanted opinions on.

When I get in someone’s face to shout with fractured logic that the Government can’t tell me what to do with my body, I want that face, like mine, to be unencumbered so that they can truly appreciate my arguments and the way my breath calls to mind a fire at a meat rendering plant.

Whenever I attend an anti-mask rally, I express my right to release from my mask-free mouth the fetid fumes of unwashed teenage armpit. When I argue that I don’t know anyone who’s gotten sick from the virus, therefore I don’t believe the virus is real, I want to say it accompanied by the toxic stench of a dead mouse somewhere in a heating duct.

This is my right as a citizen of this great country: to talk with very little intelligence about COVID droplets and mask-penetrating moisture molecules while bathing unsuspecting victims in the perfectly pungent alchemy of coffee, cheese and poor dental hygiene. No one can take this away from me, not Big Science, not Big Tech, not Big Govern-mint. Give me liberty and give me bad breath!

Don’t let tyranny, like my breath, drive you to your knees!

All right, you little kids better get to school now. Oof … It’s hot. Anyone else find it hot…? No? Just me…?