Why I’m voting for the PPC candidate who breathes through his testicles

Written by Chad Travis, as told to Shannan Peck

Canada would be a better place if us men would become more spiritually connected to our testicles. I found my inner peace as an alpha male living in a world of beta cucks. I am no longer bound by my virginity or the confines of my mother’s basement and fake female gamers, as I start my morning by taking a deep breath in through my testicles and breathing outward. 

I am a man and Canada needs more men who realize that they, too, are men. Nicholas Pereira, semen retention expert and People’s Party of Canada candidate for Saint John—Rothesay, saved my manlihood. I almost listened to my mother and went to therapy to turn into some virtue-signalling cuck, but with his firm, calloused and masculine voice, he gripped my balls and pulled them out into the real world. Now, I am whole. 

No one can handle the economy like a semen retention expert

Because of Pereira, I’ve learned to take a deep breath and inhale the sweat of masculinity instead of cowering at the sight of a woman who isn’t 120 pounds with DDD breasts and has hair shorter than her shoulders. Now, when faced with such sights, I can breathe through my balls and remind myself that, as a man, I am better than these unattractive women. Even when I have to wear a mask against my sacred rights, Dr. Fauci cannot steal the breath of freedom processed by the sweaty, masculine balls on my body and in my spirit.

No one can handle the economy like a semen retention expert. Masturbation is a weaker man’s basic instinct—like health care and letting women have jobs. With firm discipline, Pereira will hold the tip of Canada’s budget and hold back the tide until he controls it, wields it, and then, like a good country, it will only release on his command with a simple “good boy.” Canada will make other nations submissive and breedable. 

He’ll dominate the country, get to the top and command it with a strong, steely, manly voice. The only voice that can bring me to my knees—even more so than my favourite My Little Pony, dear old Fluttershy. We will consume the sheep that follow trivial matters such as public health, and us wolves will no longer be bullied, mocked online or told by our mothers that we need to go outside and get a real job. 

No, we are infinite, we are the wolf pack—and as a country, we will be both masters of our fate and our semen.