Chapter 23: Masks (Again) (8/4)
Union Thug Mayor Forces Masking
Almost every hour on the hour the union thug* Mayor of Boston, the fake alcoholic they affectionately call “Marty” (or pay the price), Tweets about masks.
“Don’t forget to wear your mask!!!” is the basic gist (over and over and over and over again), but now, at the height of Summer, it also requires a caveat that, in the event you are experiencing a heat stroke, please find a nearby shady tree, six feet away from anyone and everyone (AT LEAST), and take off your mask to regain the oxygen required for your brain.
So you don’t have a HEAT STROKE.
It’s absolutely insane.
I’m convinced Marty (and all these politicians and “health officials”) is being paid by the Tweet. Every time he tweets about it, money from someone, somewhere, is deposited in his account.
As the Great Reset plan is revealed, we’ll see that money is what drives these Globalist loons and money, as we all know, is the root of all evil.
How much money is enough?
We recently restocked masks for the first time in a long time but, as per usual, they sell out almost instantly. People are totally obsessed with masks, but we have yet to strictly enforce the policy inside the hardware store.
I never have told someone to wear a mask (and I never will).
Yet the boss comes in and he’s mad. We’ve had complaints online (from the Karens of the world of course) and we now must always “mask up” if someone comes in.
It has nothing to do with health and it has nothing to do with illness—it only has to do with social media complaints that our staff is not wearing their masks.
Clown world increases.
The corner of the store that sees the most activity is the key machine.
As you might imagine, in the world’s largest college town we make a LOT of keys. One day, I’m at the key machine and a co-worker comes up and whispers in my ear: “Don’t turn around but you have to come and see what this guy is wearing on his face.”
After finishing a job, I come up to the counter and I see
A full-grown man is wearing frilly women’s panties on his face as a mask.
I have to step outside from repulsion (which isn’t abnormal).
Meanwhile, hypoxia.
Hypoxia is a state in which oxygen is not available in sufficient amounts at the tissue level to maintain adequate homeostasis; this can result from inadequate oxygen delivery to the tissues either due to low blood supply or low oxygen content in the blood (hypoxemia).
Older folks abound at the hardware store … and when it gets over 85 degrees (you know, the temperature that kills viruses?) hypoxia sets in.
Because they are masked up and because they are of the age they are, desperately needing oxygen to function, they fall into states of hypoxia. It’s hard enough in a hardware store to understand what people want, but now with the mask and their stupefied state, it’s nearly impossible.
One older man, with liver spots dominating his ever-draining face, is trying to explain what he wants to me. “It’s round and kind of straight,” I think he’s saying as he draws a kind of pencil in the air, “and it twirls around into a point” I think he says… “A screw?” I say as he nods.
He had forgotten what a screw was.
Of course, I relay this first-hand information to my social media accounts and people refuse to accept it. The deniers return.
C’est la Vie.
* Martin Walsh was literally a union thug. I had heard at least two separate first-hand accounts from local Irish old-timers that (good ole) “Marty” would come around to worksites, find independent contractors, and literally break their kneecaps.
That’s why he became the “Mayor.”
Next week: Remember how we sold out of seeds?
