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Getting Kicked out of the Costco

My husband and I got kicked out of the Costco today! And all because we stood up for our God-given, Constitutionally protected rights.


It all started when I realized that we were down to our last 12-pack of toilet paper. I need at least 2 more 12-packs to feel comfortable. The prepper show I watch on YouTube always tells us that we can never be too prepared for when society just falls apart. You never know when those illegals are going to say the word and do some sort of Mexican Purge on all us real Americans.


Also, we only buy Angel Soft because it is made here in America. I used to buy Quilted Northern, but then I read on Reddit how the name was just an effort to erase our Southern Heritage. Heritage not hate, y’all. Plus, Angel Soft just reminds me of Christmas, and I know that we will never win the war on that sacred holiday if we only remember to fight it in December.


So Burt and I loaded up in our pick-up to make a run to the Costco.


Well, it started right there in the parking lot. All the sheeple were lined up along the outside wall standing on these little stickers that show how far six feet was. Well, Burt and I know that is just a government conspiracy to get folks to stand still long enough for them to run their retina scans on people so they can track us. I took a quick pic with my iPhone, and then posted it on my Facebook group called “Lemmings Love Pelosi” and made sure to tag the store so that everyone knows where not to shop.


Burt grabbed a cart and headed to the door, and that’s when Costco lost my business forever. We didn’t even get past the threshold before Nurse Rachet with the hand sanitizer got into it with Burt.


“Sir, you can’t come in here like that,” she exclaimed from behind her facemask.


“You can’t make me wear or not wear anything,” Burt retorted, still pushing his cart into the store. “This is America!”


The woman started frantically pointing at a sign that listed the store’s policies, but I put her in her place. “We don’t have to adhere to your fascist doctrine. We still have the right to be free as long as we stand up for it.”


“But...but...but,” the snowflake stuttered. “It’s not sanitary.”


“What?” Burt asked. “Are you afraid that I’ll get you sick? You know, pants don't stop farts.”


That’s when she grabbed her walkie and called for a manager. “We have a customer out front who is cutting in line and won’t follow store policy.”


Well, we had had enough of her foolishness. I needed to buy my Angel Soft and get home in time for Hannity. Before we even made it past the large display of televisions, a manager came running after us. He was huffing and puffing as he tried to hike his drooping pants up over his belly.


“You should take that mask off,” I offered, “You know, you are probably poisoning yourself with carbon dioxide by breathing in and out your own breath like that.”


“Everyone has to wear masks,” he huffed. “Our store has a policy.”


“Ok brown shirt,” Burt replied. “So, you’re here to enforce policy. Well, not today. If I want to feel the breeze on my cheeks, no corporate stooge is going to stop me.”


“Sir,” he continued to huff. “I can not let you enter the store like this.”


“Why? Because I won’t wear a mask?”


“No,” he shouted. “Because you aren’t wearing pants! And your wife isn’t wearing a shirt!”


“Oh, I see how it is. Obama wears a tan suit and now everyone has to wear pants.” I could tell that Burt was about to go on a tear. “If I want my toggle and bits to get some fresh American air, what right do you have to stop me? I have the right to rest my sweet Georgia split peach butt on any chair I please.”


“Yeah,” I shouted in support. “And tops are just facemasks for my pink-nosed puppies!”

A few of the customers were staring, so I added, “Hey libtards! This is what freedom looks like!” Then I gave the girls a shake.


Burt was still educating the manager. “What right do you have to tell me what I can and can not do with my body? The government can’t make me wear a mask, and they can’t make me wear pants either.”


“There are laws,” the manager stammered. He was sweating profusely by this point.


“Are you afraid? Good,” Burt said. “Like Thomas Jefferson said, ‘When government fears the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny.’”


I slapped my boobs together. “Hear that? That’s the sound of liberty. You can’t tell me to cover these up! That’s tyranny!”


That’s when the deep state cops showed up and charged us with some Obama era law about indecent exposure. You know what’s indecent? The fact that a man can’t go shopping for toilet paper with his dingle dongling and his wife has to put facemasks on her tatas. It’s like I don’t even recognize this country anymore.


I will never shop at Costco again.

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