It is always a good feeling to get home at nights (through a blinding, life threatening, catastrophic, dusting of snow) to read and see the little man has had another thorough ass kicking showing the amount of respect he deserves.
The only better feeling is knowing I have already made more money than the little man will all day and that is before I leave home.
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Not wanting to ruin your great day even with the horrific light dusting of snow but everyone makes more money than trog. His garbage man throws him a few aluminum cans each week to help him make ends meet.