The Real Man’s Super Bowl Halftime Show
Finally, a voice brave enough to stand up and speak the truth: WHITE PEOPLE ARE BACK!!!
Foreigners, am I right? I mean, what has this virtuous bastion of a country even come to? Football is the pinnacle of our culture, nay, very civilization and these absolute woke libs have the audacity to ruin everything fundamental about the manliest sport in existence. Think about it, what can possibly be manlier or more American than giant, muscular men in cartoon figure branded tights dominating each other physically over a ball that resembles an inverse hourglass (or a penis that has rubber bands tightened at each end). And the apex event of the apex sport is none other than the Super Bowl. Spectacle is not the peak to strive for, but rather is the bare minimum.
That is where I insert myself into the narrative. Me! A middle-class white man at last will have his voice heard and his wrongs righted! You may find yourself asking “what more could be done to you sir that hasn’t already been done to the likes of Job, Jesus, or our lord and savior DJT?” Well, I am here to report of a sin most grave my fellow red-blooded Americans. The cherry on top of the Super Bowl is the renowned half-time show and this year, our woke Antifa overlords have planned a foreigner to be the performer. Not only is he not American, he is outright anti-USA with his lyrics. Alright, I don’t know what he is saying in his songs, but who really can? All I know is that if it ain’t English, it’s a threat. Also all I know: if you’re brown, speak another language, and come from a faraway land called Puerto Rico, you don’t belong here and please show me your papers.
To combat this continued invasion from a dark-pigmented neighbor to the south, we have only to look to our true shepherd. A man composed of pure manliness, morality, and intellect unknown to only the willfully ignorant and liars. One whose own life is the golden path Leto II, God Emperor of the future imperial universe, was so painstakingly in search of for 4,500 years. This man is Charlie Kirk. But since he’s dead now, we get Kid Rock. Hard to overcome the unearthly irony of being a community college dropout killed on a college campus from a gun while debating in a positive stance for guns, but Mr. Rock simply will not be held down. The perfect example of choosing from any artist of any genre…ever, for your show and knowing in your heart that Bobby Ritchie is simply the best choice.
But before the plat principal, comes the starters. I am going to be honest with you, I don’t know who any of these people are or any of their songs. However, I know they are white and play in the complex mathematical formulas of (ABABCB) x (4/4) x (adlib words and/or phrases). A theorem the radical left can never understand as they are too busy crying over the Clintons being in the files. First up is the good ol National Anthem played quite immaculately including several mistakes and even attempted coverups with solos all while Walmart-parking-lot-firework-tent-level fireworks go off. Next up in this gathering is Bricely, who I may or may not have misspelled, but you don’t care enough to actually check. Apparently he has a song called “Dirt Road Anthem” or it could have been “DR MLK BLVD” due to the sweet chubby white-boi rapping I found myself whispering “Thug Life” to myself while listening. When I tell you the dozens in attendance all collectively came in unison at the key change even those who never heard her before knew was coming, I want you to understand I mean literally every 100% straight, God-fearing, and definitely not gay themselves man there.
Next up is Babby Garrett, who I may or may not have misspelled, but you don’t care enough to actually check. Ol’ Babs here showed the world how powerful she is while lip syncing singing fiercely on her bedazzled microphone. She is definitely my demographic and by that I mean she has a real strong Fox News host vibe. Probably why I liked looking at her but didn’t actually listen to a single word she said.
The last fluffer is none other than the legendary man himself, Brantley Gilbert, who I may or may not have misspelled, but you don’t care enough to actually check. I also added this picture and I bet you are asking yourself if it is modified in any way.
You’ll never know.
After his first song about (shocker) drinking, his next track goes out to the martyr himself Charlie “Past Tense” Kirk who apparently gave him the courage to speak his truth. Such undeniable facts about how hard it is to be a white Christian nowadays in this country. Apparently the courage Kirk also gave his own executioner isn’t quite looked upon the same for some reason. Such heartwarming messages included saying how this is the country his grandfather fought for so hard back in the day. You know, the one where all these pesky folks who don’t look like me weren’t so uppity.
But now the real man’s main event and man, I never related so much to a literal god as I did right there seeing a big city white boi jump around in jean shorts. Not only did his hat fall off near the end of the first song, but his hand with the microphone in it moved away from his face, but magically the speakers kept playing his voice. It truly was a miracle and proof that God and Charlie were truly in that arena packed sardine tight with approximately the same capacity as my local basement venue. Next was a classical music piece (yes, really) featuring a violinist and cellist on stage. Funny part was you could definitely hear piano as well, but I guess ICE nabbed him just in time, so he wasn’t present.
One last track was the show’s finale featuring Mr. K.ock again singing about something with a special guest on stage who is a guitarist legend I have definitely heard of. The enormity was too much for me to properly describe, so leveled I was. Yes, that’s it and definitely not me losing the quark size level of interest I had going into this thing. What I do remember is Kid Rock, yes…him, telling the crowd and all those watching around the trailer park world to dust off their Bibles. Be more like him, a man whose Christian virtues and way of life can be of no doubt. And then a few more seconds of musical bliss continued in a Nirvana-like manner that I also simply cannot tell you anything about.
And then, that was it. Song ended, cut to black, commence jump scare of Charlie. Highly recommend!
5/5 Dust-Free Bibles
