So I was at the grocery store the other day, and—"What was I buying?" Not overnight oats, man, I got off that wagon after it turned out that the oats CEO guy was secretly a Fallen doomsday cultist. I mean, not that the oats did anything wrong, but the vibes were off, you know? Nah, I've been getting on that yogurt-slash-granola combo. "There's a lot of sugar in that?" 🤔 Post your mile time in chat right now, motherfucker. That's right, fucker, crickets. Anyway, so I was at the grocery store, and for context I was wearing a tee with a hero on it—"What hero?" For your edification it was Alexandria. So I'm checking out at the cashier and not the self-checkout because I support workers' rights, and the guy's kinda just giving me the stink eye. Like I swear, chat, he was staring me down like a fucking men's rights activist seeing someone with blue hair. And after a minute he just says, "You know Alexandria's American, right?" And I'm just looking at him and I'm like, "…Yeah, man. I'm aware." And the whole remainder of that transaction was fucking silent, bro. Like I guess I personally offended him by having a non-Canadian hero on my shirt. "Well, why weren't you wearing a Canadian hero shirt?" I don't know! I guess I didn't realize I was gonna be fact-checked by true patriots on my choice of attire at the fucking grocery store that day! Plus, like, c'mon, man—it's been ten years since I've been anywhere near a frat house, I'm an adult man with self respect, and I've got a four year old at home—I'm not gonna wear a t-shirt with a naked woman on it. "Narwhal's not naked?" …Sure, brother. You won't watch a movie with your parents if it's got a sex scene in it but okay, you're totally fine with the "she's got forcefields over her nipples" excuse.