So, imagine being me. I have a dead end job working for some asshole corporation. The cubicle 3 down from me has a dead guy in it. No, I'm not joking. There is a literal skeliton sitting at a desk, where Jeff had a heart attack, and died. That was 2 years ago. His body has decomposed, and his skeliton remains. Covered in spider webs.

Thats when I pull out this letter from my grandpa. He's recently passed away, and in his will he left me his farm. So I say "peace dudes, I'm out".

Now I arrive on my farm. Holy fuck, grandpa clearly let this place go. I need to clean this yard up! Stones and logs everywhere! Now I got this bitch Robin who I just met telling me my new house is a piece of shit, and I should upgrade it. Funnily enough, she's the one selling that service. Kinda seems like her comments have a financially benefiting motivation.

So it's been a few days, I've cleaned up the bulk of the farm. Still some really big logs, and really big stones, but otherwise I got some seeds planted, and some farmable land. Things are coming together.

That's when I notice I have mail. It's from Pam. She's never met me, but she feels entitled enough to send me a letter asking me to bring her a pale ale.

Are you serious??? THATS where this bitch is at in her life? She's SUCH an alcoholic that she's now soliciting booze from me, a total stranger, through the mail??? Oh, fuck off!!!! Yes I helped Clint look at some ores. He asked if I can go find 10 ores and show them to him. Then I kept the ores. He just wanted to inspect the quality that's coming from this mine. It's his passion.

Yes I also brought Willy 2 rainbow trout. He didn't want the fish. He just wanted to share his love of fishing with a newbie. It's a small town, and he just wanted someone to relate to.

But you? You live right next to the bar. You're so lazy that you're asking for alcohol delivery from a stranger through the mail. THIS is your passion???

Pam. You need help. These aren't healthy actions you're doing.