Taylor Swift is directly to blame for my diminished manhood this morning and I am sick and tired of covering up this truth. Millions of us men have had to endure a football season of grotesque offense and torment. In what was supposed to be a glorious year of normalcy, we still have to live with the colored national anthem and then boom! Taylor Swift on every newscast, wearing that bright red lipstick and cheering for her soyboy Travis Kelce!
Fine, they want to ram it down our throats that she is dating a man of color. That’s her right. But they are throwing it in our face 24/7! This tragic story started weeks ago but came to a head last night. I fell asleep after a good Sunday of drinking with my bros, just shooting the shot and watching the soy-soaked flag football Pro Bowl of Shame.
At some point, one of my bud’s old lady turned on the Grammy Awards and I made a mistake by drifting in and out of sleep, instead of immediately heading home. When I woke up I had just had my soul darkly ministered to by an endless slew of liberalism: Jonel Monet, the Twerking Phenom Miley Cyrus, some John the Baptist and then Taylor Swift, followed up by a piano interlude from that Obama-lover Billy Joel.
I’ll tell you why, my friends. When I woke up this morning, my masculinity was not standing proud and triumphant as it usually does during the morning bladder release. That Grammy Award Show and all its secret liberalism made my body release estrogen. I felt the diminishing, the shrinkage, as if you would feel when you just get out of the pool.
All men won’t admit it but I as not the only one who woke up today physically emasculated by this relentless woke agenda being poured into our birthright sports. Every American man reserves the right to enjoy hockey, football and baseball. These are the sports founded by our forefathers not for woke, but a relief for the hardworking men who yoke themselves with leading this country.