My God, haven't we suffered enough?

Go away, 2016. I can't take anymore of the misery you've imposed on us. It was bad enough when you took from us Michael "Jim" Delligatti at the tender age of 98. The man gave us the Big Mac, and he's gone because of you, 2016.

As if that weren't enough, you took Henry Heimlich, who gave us the maneuver to save people who are choking on food, a maneuver made all the more necessary by the genius of Jim Delligatti. To add insult to injury, Heimlich was practically a baby compared to Delligatti, a mere 96 years young. Damn you, 2016.

But were you done? Oh, no. Peng Chang-Kuei, the noted Taiwanese chef and the inventer of General Tso's chicken, with plenty of life left in front of him at 97 -- you just couldn't stop yourself, could you, 2016? You snatched him from us like somebody picking up his take-out General Tso's, not caring about the ones left behind.

But that wasn't the worst of it, you fiend. Just a bit more than a week ago, you took Leo Hulseman, who was barely out of his teens at age 84. How, I ask you, how could you strike down the greatest of all these men, the man who made every party from the early 1970s onward possible, the man who nursed generations of college students through keg party after keg party, the man who gave us that durable, versatile and inexpensive goblet of joy, the red Solo cup?

I think maybe it is best to just honor Mr. Hulseman in song:

Toby Keith is a big boy, 2016. I hope he finds you and kicks your ass.

So, other than all those tragic deaths, why is everybody complaining about what a horrible year 2016 was?