Fuck all the nonsense, just do like I did and move to the middle of no-where East Texas, pop. 1969 and have a nice day.
Odds are by maybe next year we'll find someone here that heard of someone who had the fuckin corona virus and they'll share a Corona, though most likely a Bud-Light and laugh about all the BS the city folk experienced.
Life amongst the cotton farmers here is satisfyingly much simpler, while also infinitely more logical and ... Rum-Depot is just 20 minutes down the road
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