I haven't been able to give you guys any thanks or anything even resembling a response because Winn-Dixie, my slave drivers, have been working me ragged.
"Oh, it's such an easy job, Daniel" they say.
"STop your complaining and pick up the pace!...."

I'm over 200 lbs.

I'm under 6'0" tall.

Health food is too ridiculously expensive now a days, so that ain't happenin'.

I've got bad knees,

poor eyesight,

I get no sleep because you make me work late hours,

you complain that you don't know where I am when I'm obviously in the bathroom just trying to answer the call of nature...

I only get paid minimum wage when I've quit "harder" jobs than these which, compared to this, is the type of job I would not wish an an escaped Mexican mental patient.

And then you fu@@ing complain that I take too long using the bathroom when I'm usually in the bathroom pooping or peeing like any other living creature is prone to do, when all YOU use it for is for peeing maybe once or twice during the entire work day.

Your toilet paper sucks, and I've got constipation.

Get...

A...

Gadd-dang...

CLUE... O_O!

I got more health problems than you do (and you guys are older than I am, sad), and I even had the good manners to warn you about that BEFORE I started working for you people.

It's on my freakin' resume, for crap's sake!
Did you just conveniently forget, or are you among the many who suffer from buck-blindness?

Your corporate, living-quality wages getting in the way of the eyes and ears that the Good Lord gave ya, HMM?

......................................I think so. = . =