Don't worry about it.
In the immortal words of my very first Leading Chief: "How the **** do you think a ****ing Eskimo eats a ****ing whale? One ****ing bite at a time!"
(He was a WWII sailor, rumor had it that he'd had an aircraft carrier shot out from under him, had personally shot down a number of kamikazes in return and knew, been plane captain for or had been drunk with most of the admirals then currently on duty and absolutely had so many medals and ribbons he'd march to inspections with a thirty-degree list. Swore like he had a PhD at the craft but was the best damn MAN...outside of my own Father...I've ever met.)
I’d just like even a tad bit of pep-up, like, ‘full house, down here at Gitmo, we’re feeding them generic rice crispies and koolaid with no sugar, all 13K of them, and we sprinkle live body lice on their bunks while they’re at mess, and blare Adele around the clock.’ Ya know, something uplifting.
:-D Love that story! thanks!