I wear a mask when I’m out. It’s out of respect for others and to protect all of us.

It’s also a Nashua city ordinance, but some folks refuse to wear them.

I’m pretty sure that wearing a face mask is more comfortable than wearing a ventilator.

Growing up, there was always a “no shoes, no shirt, no service” policy. I don’t recall that rule ever exploding into a civil rights issue.

When I go to a fancy restaurant and they require a sport coat, I don’t show up in a muumuu and a cowboy hat.

When I golf, they usually ask me to leave. Not because I’m not wearing a collared shirt. It’s because I stink at golf. My playing is that offensive. My handicap is that I play the game and other golfers have to watch in horror.

I have seen people wear a polka-dot mask with a plaid shirt. That borders gauche but let’s allow it.

Mostly I wear a face mask to ensure I’m alive on Nov. 3.

I watched a video of a teacher explaining to students how easy it is to put a face mask on. It took the guy 20 minutes. Not a great example.

There’s a brilliant cover of the New Yorker that shows Donald Trump screaming. He has his face mask covering his eyes. Not terribly far from the truth.

By now, we’ve all heard of Karen. Karen doesn’t wear a mask. Karen yells a lot. Karen likes donuts. To clarify, Karen likes doing donuts in the parking lot as she screeches away from a store that refused her service for not wearing a face mask.

A lady told me that ripping off her mask when she gets back to her car is like taking off her bra when she gets home.

I have burped into my own mask. Not exactly a bed of roses.

I don’t expect people to jog with their mask on. Just keep your distance. We can’t have people dropping like flies from their own morning breath.

My ears are currently holding my sunglasses, ear pods and a mask. My ears are essentially a handbag.

I am currently working on a hack that will keep your face covering from fogging up your glasses.

I put cherry Chapstick on my lips and then put on my mask and when I got home, it looked like I made out with myself.

I personally like wearing a mask at the grocery store. It’s like being incognito when I buy obscene amounts of junk food and copious amounts of beer.

“I’m not working out without a mask” is my new favorite excuse for not working out.

If I had a kid, I’d train them to loudly ask in public, “Why isn’t that person wearing a mask? Are we going to get sick?”

You know how your breath smells like butt when your mask is on? That’s because your breath smells like butt.

Once, I removed my mask to sneeze into my sleeve and thought to myself, “I’m not doing this right.”

My favorite thing about wearing a mask is cussing out people at stores who aren’t wearing a mask.

I’d never worn a mask before the pandemic, but now it’s become comfortable, like a warm blanket of stay the hell away from me.

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