American idiots.

Nothing “owns the Libs” harder than plastic straws and another pandemic.

Oh, you absolute fucking legends of stupidity, you glorious, star-spangled dipshits, you majestically brain-dead champions of mediocrity, you beige wallpaper of humanity, out here trading your actual lives for the most meaningless, half-baked bullshit imaginable.

You’re the kind of people who’d sell your kidneys for a limited-edition Mountain Dew flavor or a shitty-ass gas station hat. You’re so aggressively unexceptional, it’s almost impressive—like watching someone fail so spectacularly at life that it loops back around to being a kind of performance art. You’re not just unremarkable; you’re *proud* of it, wearing your lack of critical thinking like it’s a fucking badge of honor.

You’d rather choke to death on your own phlegm from some mutated bird flu than admit that maybe, just *maybe*, science and common fucking sense are worth listening to? Worth having access to. But no, you’re too busy wrapping yourself in a flag and screaming “God Bless ‘merica!” like that’s going to stop your immune system from tapping the fuck out. Spoiler alert: it won’t. Jesus isn’t going to save you from a virus, Tammy-Lynn. He’s busy, and frankly, he’s probably embarrassed as fuck to even be associated with you.

You’re out there like a cracked-out kitten in a flagtastically bedazzled anal bead factory getting distracted by every shiny, patriotic piece of bullshit they wave in your face. “Oh, look! A bannerific Bald Eagle! A stars-gone-wild Bible verse! A freedom-frosted country song about truck nutz and gas stoves!” Meanwhile, the bird flu is out here doing laps in the background, sharpening its talons and waiting to fuck your respiratory system up like it owes it money. But you don’t care, do you? Because as long as they slap a flag on it and say the word “freedom” enough times, you’ll eat that shit up with a spork.

You’re like a toddler who keeps eating crayons because they’re colorful, except the crayons are propaganda, and instead of a tummy ache, you’re going to end up “owning the Libs” on a motherfucking ventilator.

And don’t even get me started on the God bullshit. “It’s all part of God’s plan!” you say, as if God’s plan involves you coughing up your fucking spleen in a Walmart parking lot because you refused to wear a mask or get a vaccine. Newsflash, dipshit: God gave you a brain, and you’re out here treating it like it’s a pet rock your kid gave you when they were in preschool.

If God wanted you to survive, maybe He also wanted you to listen to the people with lab coats and degrees instead of the guy on Facebook who thinks bird flu is a hoax because he saw a meme about it once. But no, you’re too busy screaming “FREEDOM ISN’T FREE!” while licking every doorknob in sight like that’s going to show the libs who’s boss.

Let’s talk about your priorities for a second. You’re out here fighting single remaining tooth and nail for the right to die a slow, preventable death because you’re “not sheep” like those of us who can’t hide our own Easter eggs. Meanwhile, your government is busy cutting healthcare funding, jacking up prices on everything, and laughing their asses off while you argue about whether or not it’s patriotic to wash your hands. You’re so easily distracted by the red, white, and blue bullshit parade that you don’t even notice they’re robbing you blind. But hey, at least you’ve got your freedom, right? Freedom to die broke, sick, and stupid. Fucking congratulations.

You brave warriors of the “own the libs” brigade, charging valiantly into the battlefield of your own wallets and freedoms, armed with nothing but bad takes and a willingness to screw yourselves over for the sake of a meme. Let’s have a little chat, shall we? Because, frankly, it’s fascinating to watch people gleefully torch their own lives just to make someone they don’t like mildly annoyed for five seconds. You’re like a guy setting his own house on fire because his neighbor voted for bike lanes.

Let’s start with the basics: you’re out there paying more for gas, groceries, and healthcare—cheerfully, I might add—because someone on Twitter told you it would “trigger the libs.” Newsflash, buddy: the libs aren’t triggered. We’re just confused as hell, watching you spend $150 on a “Cry Harder” Snuggie while complaining about the inflation your melon-hued messiah is actively increasing.

You’re not sticking it to anyone except your own dwindling bank account. And let’s not forget the part where you cheer for policies that strip away your own rights, like you’re in some kind of masochistic political cult. “Oh, you’re taking away my reproductive rights, my voting access, and my healthcare options? Hell yeah, as long as it makes someone with blue hair mad!” Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. We’re too busy trying to figure the fuck out why you’re so enthusiastic about your own fucking suffering.

And then there’s the safety thing. You’ll happily let your schools, neighborhoods, and public spaces turn into the Wild West because apparently, background checks and common-sense regulations are a bridge too far. “I’d rather live in a society where I have to dodge stray bullets at the grocery store than let those damn libs take my guns!” Cool, bro. Enjoy your weekly game of “Is it fireworks or gunfire?” while the rest of us just want to buy the eggs we saved a month’s pay for without having to wear body armor.

Oh, and let’s not forget your heroic crusade to *save the fucking plastic straws*. Truly, history will remember you as the brave warriors who stood up to the tyranny of paper alternatives. “Take my healthcare, my reproductive rights, and my kid’s schoolbooks, but don’t you DARE take my goddamn bendy straw!” You’re out here drinking Diet Coke from a plastic straw like it’s the last bastion of freedom in a world gone soft. Meanwhile, turtles are choking to death like, “Wow, thanks for your service, you absolute dickwads.”

You act like sipping your Big Gulp through a piece of polypropylene is the hill to die on, as if it’s some sacred American tradition. “I can’t afford insulin, but at least I can drink my $1 McDonald’s Sprite without tasting the faint disappointment of soggy paper!” Truly, you’re the Rosa Parks of fast-food beverages. You’re out here treating a piece of disposable plastic like it’s the fucking Constitution while the rest of us are just trying to keep the planet from turning into a giant uninhabitable trash fire. But sure, keep fighting the good fight, Captain Straws-a-Lot. The libs are really shaking in their Birkenstocks over your dedication to choking sea life for convenience.

You’ll sacrifice your health for a Big Mac, your dignity for a reality TV show, and your last two brain cells for a political party that wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire—and even if they did, they’d probably charge you an arm and a leg for the piss they covered you with.

You’ll die on any hill, as long as it’s covered in cheap, plastic patriotism and meaningless slogans. “Give me gas stoves or give me death!” you scream, as you gleefully inhale toxic fumes from a backyard tire fire because someone told you recycling is for communists. You’ll trade your health, your money, and your goddamn *future* for some half-assed illusion of freedom that doesn’t even exist.

You’re the type of people who’d refuse a life raft during a flood because it wasn’t freedom-gasmic. “If I can’t drown patriotically, then what’s the point?” you’d say, clutching a soggy hot dog and a can of Bud Light as you sink into the abyss. You’d rather die for some bullshit “cause” you don’t even understand than admit you might be wrong. Spoiler alert: you’re *always* wrong. You’re out here trading your lives for bumper sticker slogans and Fox News talking points, while the rest of us are just trying to figure out how in the fuck you haven’t accidentally walked into oncoming traffic yet.

Who needs insulin when you’ve got the satisfaction of knowing Elon Musk got another $8 million dollar check today amirite?

God bless America, indeed.

So, congratulations, you played yourselves. And here we are, watching you dumbasses ride the flaming dumpster fire rollercoaster of your own fucked-up “decisions”, screaming “FREEDOM!” as it flies off the tracks. You voted for rich assholes and soon you’ll be sitting in the ashes of your own life, still blaming immigrants, drag queens, and pronouns for your problems.

You’re getting fucked over, and the saddest part? You helped. You bought the ticket, you took the ride, and now you’re too goddamn stubborn to admit you’ve been conned. So enjoy your crumbling healthcare, your shit wages, unsafe work environments, closed schools, shuttered hospitals and unpaid medical bills. Sit there feeling triumphant while warming your feet beside a sparking microwave, picking last night’s McRib outta your tooth with the sharpened edges of the all-American success story that is the plastic fucking straw. The rest of us will be over here, trying to clean up the motherfucking mess you’ve made—again.

Cheers, dipshits!

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Love you guys.

Stay safe, stay strong, stay sane-ish.

Also — stay tuned for a big announcement from me coming next week!

Also, a bonus track today for a dear, dear friend who is under the weather today. ❤️‍🩹

love Jo 💙

(behave Kiki)