What's my fucking problem?
Dear C in C,
Due to your penchant for simpleminded, cyclopean vagueness I had to retain the services of my constant companion and trusty manservant, Mr. ToasterLeavings. I instructed Mr. ToasterLeavings to sit outside of your house and take pictures of your activities through the windows and then to break into and search your house after you left for work.
In short, I'd say among the more prominent problems are cheap locks, a curious lack of blinds or curtains and more notably; a rather bizarre new problem with a wide scope of outcomes that range from a very expensive blackmail arrangement to a very long stay in jail. I'm sure you understand what I am speaking of, doubtless I need not mention it here or you can pile a few extra problems onto this mess that you call life.
In short, my clinical advice would be to hang your self. If this doesn't suit you, I hope that you don't mind liquidating your assets as I do not accept Visa, Mastercard or American Express.
Just remember, "Freedom is priceless".
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