I'm sure it has some moral l'm not getting. Like the time they read us a stupid story in kindergarten about good things coming in small packages. At the tale's end, two women emerged. One with a big giant sparkly gift-wrapped box, and the other with a paper bag. "Pick a present," the teacher told us. Of course, I scooted over to the lady with the box. I wasn't about to go sit by an ugly woman with a brown lunch sack. "Now you will recieve the contents," the teacher had said in 5-year old speak. Much to my dismay, the box contained wadded up paper and everyone over at the paper bag (which was indeed everyone) got gummi bears. Son of a bitch, I thought to myself as I looked over at all those twits with their candy. That is fucked up.
Ah, the struggle.