Yesterday I was forced down to the gun store to pick up some Nosler 85 grainers for the .25-06... and what a fuggin downer. My old favourite gun shop is now run by Covid Karen and her coffee klatch and they were all on the rag down there. I put on my mask but got busted right up front. It's a gun shop, dontchya know - so I had to briefly turn and face the camera on the wall so they could record my face without the mask. The sport utility rifles are all gone thanks to the pink socked, gun grabbing Turdo La Doo, and I ain't kiddin' - the shop clerks were all pished off menopausal hags. I was strongly tempted to give one the back of my hand - she was dealing with an elderly lady customer that was obviously there to pick up something for her husband or son... and she was a little slow on the uptake like some of the more aged seniors are... and the harpy was giving it to her with both bloody barrels.
I lucked out because that bitch rang me out on the till on the way out. After I paid, I took my mask off right in the till, gave her a snide smirk and a wink, and then flounced out while she was doing the "Sir! Sir! Your mask....!!!" thing behind me. Screw you, bitch.
Gawd, that felt great. When the
Great Reset Canadian Western Rebellion comes - I am going to put every last one of these Covitardians to the sword.