Every last one of us busted our asses to get to work during the snowstorm so you jackasses can have yogurt. We flipping WALKED to work, two, four, eight miles.... You call us up and want us to deliver you groceries, or put all your groceries in a box? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???? A BOX? IS THIS 1937? You, John Q. Public, ruined my holiday, for not a ONE of you took the time to wonder how ANY OF US FUCKING GOT TO WORK and for assuming we were all just fucking BORN THERE and we don't have lives and families and we're not worrying about our pipes freezing and that our pets are okay or that our gutters will fall down today full of ice... and that knee-deep snow is impossible to walk in, and half of us spent all day worrying we'd miss the last bus out of the neighborhood, and then some of us did and had to walk home. It's not cute or funny, and neither is dragging your sled INSIDE with your puppy on it, who surely will pee on the salad bar, not to mention it's too COLD for the dog to be outside at all, and FUCKING BRUSH OFF THE SNOW OUTSIDE, RETARD! NOT INSIDE.—Anonymous
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