Today is a reminder just how absolutely easy it is to get absolutely infuriated by this coddled manchild when he opens his mouth to spout delusional nonsense while snort-laughing at everybody else in the world who truly does have to
work for their dollar.
When these moments come, always remember to take a deep breath and look at the big picture. Even though everybody in the world works harder than Phil, gets paid less for it, and isn't allowed to complain about it or just change the rules whenever they feel like it. Those same people have friends, family, hobbies, places to go, things to do, people to see, lives to live.
Let Phil cry about his hard job playing video games for a grand total of 15 hours a week while making six figures for it. Let him whine that he's suffering and he's overworked while he hasn't worn normal street clothes nor gone outside recreationally for the past five years. Let him shake his little bitchmade fist and chant his cultist mantras when his life becomes a sullen emptiness as soon as the stream ends. Let him bark at length about his tater trotter wife while she'll be laying down to sleep every night as far away from him as she can get. Let him gloat about his ongoing begacy being such a "cool and popular" khantent creator when his phone's contacts list has only two entries: Mom and Other Mom- er I mean Wife.
Phil's doing his damnest to make everyone jealous of him with the way puts in less work than a part-time job banking more money than a full-time career and then opens his flabby jowl-framed maw to bitch about it anyway. It's easy to fall victim to that trap, as long as you forget one crucial fact: Phil dies when his streaming career dies. He has nothing, absolutely NOTHING, left to live for, and that will never change. Whether it be him clutching his chest and keeling over on stream, or becoming a Spoony-tier basement troll hiding away under Linda and Dave's roof when the autism vortex stops spinning... and then clutching his chest and keeling over.
Keep collecting those tardbux like your life depends on it, Phil. Because
it does. And we'll all still be here to laugh at you when your time runs out. I'm sure you sleep soundly, knowing deep down that every day could be your last, and nobody is left to mourn for you when it comes.