QotD: "Who cares if your shitburger is tastier than mine if we're both eating shit?" - somebody said it

I get so nauseated when I hear people complaining about how hard their lives are. We're so warm and cozy here in America that we've gotta find insignificant shit to bitch about. Why don't you go to some god-forsaken-dust-and-bones-third-world-shitpile-country and complain about pimples and exfoliation or how you can't find the time to go to the tanning salon or how much you hated the fact that Clay Aiken wasn't the American Idol. Why don't you? See what your comfy little dream world adds up to when your body is eating itself from the inside-out because your mother was killed in a grown-over minefield and you were left to take care of your little brother with AIDS, but you can't make it to the watering-hole because the guerilla soldiers will rape you.