Get Fuuucked, MySpace

I dunno why I joined MySpace, exactly. I think it had to do with the hot rollerderby girls here in Reno. But I fucking hated it there. While going through the 17 screens required to destroy my MySpace account, I found a box with seemingly unlimited characters asking my why I was leaving that cyber shit hole. Following is what I wrote and submitted.

Well, where to begin? For starters, it's slow. This may have something to do with all the people coming here, but more likely to do with the fact that it seems the whole thing was coded almost at random. Perhaps you you guys hired some of those Shakespeare-writing monkies? Or perhaps your servers were shot in the face with an HTML cannon? I dunno, but I get a headache just looking at this place, never mind trying to navigate it.

But more importantly, I hate it here. It's full of amateur pornographers that want me to watch them diddle themselves on webcams and then send them what little money I don't spend on professional pornographers diddling themselves on webcams. I also seem to have contracted what is either Herpes Symplex B or a case of The Babies. In any event I'm swollen, red, and full of penicillin.

In closing, I'd just like to say that I'm never coming back and felt you should hear it from me so you're not surprised when you come by to read my latest blog entry. But do not despair! We will always have those unbareably long waits when trying to move from one page to the next. That's how I will forever remember you.

Love Always,
Dekx

And now here's a song by one of Robot Loves Zombie's Ukelele Girlfriends singing about MySpace. I wish all of our posts could have such relevant outros.