goddammit this irks me
tell you what…your well-dressed ass sitting at the gate can make fun of me all you want when you spot me at the airport wearing shorts and Birks topped off healthy cut of Skoal Original Fine Cut wedged betwixt my cheek and gum. in fact, have a blast laughing at my country ass.
but shortly thereafter you’ll see this coonass boarding an Embraer Phenom 300E wearing the very rags you deem inappropriate for commercial flight. myself, I’ll be laughing at the fools who think the veneer of particular clothing is the true measure of a man. and while you watch me ascend at gut wrenching angle and velocity, maybe you’ll come to realize that what a person wears has diddly fucking poo to do with who they are and what they’ve overcome, and oftentimes their chosen garb has little correlation, if any, with their strength of character.
bud, you’re beliefs and positions are not only shit, they’re nauseating. and simply wearing a bespoke suit that visually delineates you from others less fortunate while you thunder humiliation and ridicule upon others for not meeting your standards or agreeing with you doesn’t make those beliefs and positions any more palatable or less nauseating.
a clown is a clown, regardless of the attire.