What can Brown do for me?

Drive that lame ass delivery truck off the top of a very high fucking cliff, for starters.

And when that's done, perhaps UPS would give me a better answer than, basically, "We don't do that because we don't do that." You know, when you break open a package in transit and lose vital components that someone needs to make the product in the package actually frickin' work, you might want to adopt a less narrowly legalistic approach to my dilemma. Since, UPS, you are the fucking cause of my dilemma.

This evening scream into the void brought to you courtesy of a lack of sleep, a surplus of frustration and a simmering feeling of desperation that this entire wedding thing is going to be a total disaster. Because UPS sucks, natch.