Every. Bloody. Day at work. You realize at one time I didn't truly believe in hate? The bloody slines I have to deal with at work have cured me of that.

Imagine being woken up at 4AM to your burglar alarm going off because your phone went out. Realize immediately this means that you can't call 911 if there's a fire. Imagine the tantrum you'd throw upon being told that it was going to take potentially up to a full day to correct. Imagine the rage this causes. Now, imagine some inbred pockarsed married-to-a-sibling nazi offspring of a snake and a dog throwing a tantrum 100x worse than that because he or she missed ten minutes out of American Idol or something equally inane. I deal with both types of tantrums. I can understand someone being pissed when their life is in danger, but when someone is exponentially more of an arsewipe over their bloody television, I want to take their bloody tantrum that a bloody 5-year-old would be ashamed of and throw it right back at them.