Damn. Can I please get some work done around here? Everytime I come home from a really long shift you are just fixated at the bottom of my feet. How about cooking me some dinner? My ankles are tired and swollen. These warm mules have a damp pickle odor from containing my size wide 12s and you can't help but keep on pestering me with that lump in your pants. We've been here before several times before and I know exactly what you need to snap you back into reality.