A response from the body
Dear David,

You bastard. Do you think that's how things work? You give the orders and I follow them? Give me a little respect here. There are things I do that you don't even begin to conceive. Yea. So. Thanks. Think about that.

Maybe if you had started conceiving a while ago, you wouldn't be whining now. That's all you do is whine, isn't it? Do you have a clue of what I'm really capable of? No. You don't. You're so caught up in what you think. It's incredibly frustrating. Maybe if you actually put some decent food in me, maybe if you drank enough water, maybe if you would let me f***ing rest instead of staying up at all hours of the night with your incessant whining to the world. Oooh. I'm David. Feel sorry for me, because I'm not what I thought I'd be. OOH. I'm David. I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm soooo sensitive. la la la. Give it a rest. Nobody wants to hear it you pathetic whiner.

Seriously, where would you be without me? Would you have any self-confidence at all? What if I shut down your legs? What if I stopped letting you catch and throw a disc? You wouldn't know what to do with yourself. You'd be a little lost blob. So threaten me if you want. We're a team here and if you haven't figured that out by now, maybe you will the next time I holler about pain.

Don't you ever give me T-shirt slogans again. Disrespectful little ---.

Ugh.

-Body