There was once a smart boy named Bob. He hates Puerto Rico just as much as Donald Trump hates Mexico. Bob also hates K9 web protection. Each time the dumb popup came on, Bob will throw his computer out of the “house” he lives in. Puerto Ricans lived in shacks, and some even worked for money, laying on the “streets” as speed bumps. Oh, the streets. You couldn’t even drive on it. Even a monster truck couldn’t drive on the Puerto Rican roads. There are potholes so deep, Mount Everest could fit in the holes. Bobs parents had forced him to fly down to Puerto Rico, and live in their “house”, a couple dozen bricks cobbled together to form a shack. Ants, Cockroaches, and daddy long legs owned the “house” more than Bobs parents, and if you dropped a crumb of bread on the floor, within a couple of seconds, thousands and thousands of ants would be swarming over it. There were cracks in the floor, so even if you caulked the floor, the ants would find another way to get in the house. Even a homeless person wouldn’t want to live in their “house”. If you wanted to go to the grocery store, too bad. You couldn’t drive on the streets to the grocery store, much less even walk on them. So, you had to starve. The Puerto Rican government was busy saving up to fix the road, cent by cent, century by century. In a couple of millennia, they would have enough money to buy a bag of concrete, but there wasn’t enough water pressure to fill up a bucket. The water tasted like metal, and Bob’s parents forced him to drink it, just like they forced him to move down to Puerto Rico. When Bob went to sleep, he could feel ants crawling up his legs, and he could hear the humming of a nest of mosquitos flying towards him. In the morning, Bob woke up to a leg more bloody than raw meat, and arms more swollen than baking soda and vinegar in a soda bottle. Cats from all around the neighborhood tormented Bob’s cats, so even his cats hated Puerto Rico. Did I mention there was no Air Conditioning? Even the richest person couldn’t afford the luxury of AC, and if he did, there were so many cracks in his home, all the cold air would escape. When Bob went to shower, he would turn on the tap, just to find it dripping a couple of drops. The whole neighborhood was given a gallon of water an hour. For the WHOLE neighborhood. There was also this dog that lived on the streets of the neighborhood, and each day, it would go and poop on the grass. The smell alone was enough to knock a person out. When Bob went to sit at his desk every day, he could feel ants crawling in his hair and legs, trying to scavenge for food.
The internet was so slow, you couldn’t even load the text “I hate Puerto Rico”. You wouldn’t want to get internet anyways. You had to pay by the second, five dollars per second, for your whole life.
The moral of this story?
Don’t move to Puerto Rico. Seriously, don’t.