Entire hours of my life have now been spent designing a house for my Sims. Thank you Crystal.

My disgust with being poor has gotten to the point where it is almost all I can do to restrain myself from vaulting over the counter and spewing blood and pea-soup vomit into the mouth of the next person who doesn't bat an eye when paying for a $38 meal for themselves at my restaurant. And almost daily I have to subdue thoughts of running up the lawn of some suburbanite castle in Highland Park with a cocked shotgun and a hockey mask. Not to rob them, you see, but to exact revenge on them, holding them personally responsible for every welfare check and government cheese wheel that has ever been handed out. Screaming out "I represent the BUMS you FUCK"!! as the blood pools and coagulates on their Stain Master carpet.

I am, needless to say, a class warrior of the highest degree. But not an ignorant one. I know that not ALL rich people are guilty of gluttony and greed. They don't ALL sit around and smoke Cuban cigars, sipping cognac and complaining about the poverty problem in this country. And, of course, I would trade places with almost any one of them in a split second. But that doesn't stop me from hating them, or thinking that every single one of them should be anally stuffed with nails and dropped down a flight of stairs.

And I take great pride in the fact that I have suffered many more hardships than they, and come out on top.

And I have a much bigger penis, so who's really losing here anyway?