During yesterday’s Hangover celebration, I did have my eye on the news, and there are a couple of items I would be remiss and lazy in not addressing.

Let’s talk about real men doing real shit before I even get to the pathetic little crybaby known as Tim Walz. While this whiny fuck is out here bitching about his “masculinity” being questioned, actual badasses like Elon Musk and the SpaceX crew are out there making history and showing the world what real grit looks like. I mean, let’s fucking celebrate for a second: a massive shoutout to Elon, SpaceX, and the crew of the ISS for pulling off a jaw-dropping mission that the Biden administration abandoned in space like a bunch of gutless cowards. The SpaceX Dragon capsule splash-landed like a goddamn champ in the Gulf of America, and you know who greeted them? An adorable pod of dolphins, probably more impressed than any of us at the sheer balls it takes to pull that off. That’s masculinity—building rockets, saving astronauts, and making the universe your bitch when the democratic government sat on its ass and DEI NASA fumbled the bag. Elon’s out here showing what a real man does: he steps up, takes charge, and gets shit done, no excuses, no whining.

Meanwhile, what’s Tim Walz doing? Oh, right, he’s crying to Gavin Newsom on a podcast about how Fox News doesn’t think he’s “man enough” because he sips milkshakes through a straw. Are you fucking kidding me? While Elon’s bringing people back from space, Walz is out here throwing a tantrum because someone called him a pussy. Boo-fucking-hoo, you sorry-ass fraction of a man. You wanna talk about masculinity, Timmy? How about you take a page out of Elon’s book and actually do something worth a damn instead of running your mouth about how you’re some tough guy who can “kick most of our asses”? Yeah, we all heard that.  You fat fuck.

So prove it, asshole. First off: nobody gives a flying fuck about your straw-sipping, milkshake-drinking, “I’m not masculine enough for Fox News” bullshit. You’re out here crying about how the big bad conservatives are picking on you for not being “man enough”? Maybe if you weren’t such a spineless, vaginal politician who can’t even handle a little criticism without whining to your buddy Gavin, people wouldn’t think you’re a pussy. You’re a fucking governor, not a goddamn toddler—act like it.

And then you have the audacity to say you could “kick most of our asses”? Cool. Then you should know you don’t get to talk that kind of shit and then hide behind your little podcast microphone like a bitch. Anytime you feel like actually backing your words up, I’m right here. I’m a red-blooded, combustion-engine-driving, gun-toting, whiskey-chugging American who doesn’t take kindly to some useless chubby-fuck bureaucrat talking smack.  You wouldn’t last two seconds in a real fight, you soft-ass piece of shit. I’d have you on the ground begging for mercy faster than you can say “#MeToo.”

You wanna talk about masculinity? Real masculinity isn’t crying about how people don’t think you’re tough enough while you sip lattes with Newsom. Real masculinity is stepping up to the fucking plate when someone calls you out. You said you can fix a truck? Great, I’ll break your right arm and you can fix that too. You’re out here saying conservatives are “scared” of you because you’re not “bullshitting” about who you are? You fat fuck… we’re not scared—we’re just laughing our asses off at what a pathetic joke you are. A beard and a truck don’t make you a man, you limp-wristed poseur. Actions do. So fucking act.

Here’s my challenge, Timothy: let’s do it. I’m inviting you: anytime, anywhere…Atlantic City, I don’t care.  No need for cameras, no podcast, no bullshit. Just you and me, one-on-one, in a ring, on a field, hell, I’ll even come to Minnesota and whoop your ass in your own backyard. You pick the spot, pussy, and I’ll be there. You think you can kick my ass? I’ll fucking bury you. Bring your little straw and your milkshake—I’ll shove ‘em both down your goddamn throat.

And don’t give me any of that “I’m a governor, I’m above this” crap. You started this, fat ass. You wanted to talk shit about how you can take us? Well, I’m right here, ready to make you eat those words, anytime. When you don’t show up, everyone’s gonna know what we already do: you’re a gutless, fake, soft, womanly fraud who can’t back up a single fucking thing you say.

Ask your ugly-ass wife and Kamala nicely if you can please have your testicles back from their respective purses, and if they give you permission, I’m here, waiting.

N.P.: “Stitch” – More Machine Than Man