I can’t even begin to describe the hell I go through when I try and adjust my blanket, pour some soda and don’t even get me started about being forced to stare at awkward cleavage. If only there were a clan of bloodsucking, snake-oil hocking, fear mongering, capitalist heathens to provide me with a toll free number to call and would possibly be interested in providing me with three, easy-to-pay installments to REMOVE ME FROM THIS BURNING DOMESTIC OBSTACLE COURSE HELLFIRE.

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