I ate so much yesterday, that my joints are full. They're screaming at me. How can that be? It's almost creepy. If my hips and knees could speak they would say, "Hey lard-butt! We have to carry you. Take a step back from the dressing and the 3rd helping of dessert. Seriously? The first two servings weren't enough? You didn't get the ESSENCE of the chocolate silk pie the FIRST TWO TIMES? Trust us. It's good. It's chocolate. It's deadly. Back the heck up and turn around."
My joints aren't really friendly and they certainly lack in customer service. My joints work for Sprint.