Dear Diary

Dear Diaryland,

So, my first birthday here at Diaryland is upon me, and I am getting my emails reminding me every five seconds that my super gold is about to expire.

Your customer service blows. I realize that we’re not paying a fortune for comments, banners, and image hosting, but I should at least get what I pay for. I haven’t been able to run ONE SINGLE BANNER – not that I have any fucking clue how to create them, given my computer/hmtl illiteracy, but still. I have attempted to contact you via email (ha ha ha ha) every single day, and have gotten no response. Why must you tease me with things like, “Just email us with ‘super gold member’ in the subject so we can make you a priority”, when you have no intention of EVER getting back to me? WHY?

Most of the time you never email me when someone leaves a note or a comment, forcing me to click my own diary like a needy attention whore every ten minutes.

Should I stay or should I go? This indecision’s killing me.

Well, not really. I just wanted to quote The Clash.

I like Diaryland. I have many excellent friends here. Don’t make me go somewhere else.

Let’s stay together for the kids,
Andria

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Dear Amazon,

You tease me with pre-orders, then take them away. You tell me you’ve ordered the book for me anyway, and then tell me that never happened.

All I wanted to do was read the fucking Harry Potter book like all the other nerds, and now you’re going to force me to actually go out in PUBLIC and buy it at a store.

Was it something I said? Does the fact that I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on books through your site mean nothing? Where did the love go?

I’ve never even looked at barnesandnoble.com, and this is how you treat me.

Hmmph,
Andria

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Dear Bank of America,

Fuck you and your online bill pay.

That’s all.

Kiss my ass,
Andria

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Dear Co-workers,

Why do you have to shit at work? Can’t you do that at home, like civilized people? We work in a small office, and your explosive bowel movements permeate the air and make me gag. And, spraying the entire can of air freshener? DOESN’T HELP.

It’s just not right.

Eat less fiber and drink less coffee before work,
Andria

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Dear single men who have jobs, don’t play games, tell the truth, and don’t still live with their parents,

I’m pretty damned tired of being single.

Call me,
Andria

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Dear smoke alarm,

Why do you go off every morning when I take a shower, yet, when I nearly burn my house down by forgetting about the turkey burger I started cooking, you say nothing?

Do you want me to die? Have I not been good to you, checking your batteries, and replacing them regularly, to ensure optimal performance? You should feel special, because only my vibrators get that kind of treatment.

Love always,
Andria

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Dear Hurricane Emily,

Fuck you.

Thanks you to, you sweaty, nasty whore, it’s hot and humid here. I live in Southern California. We’re not equipped to deal with humidity, and most days, we can’t even deal with temperatures over 75 degrees.

Go back to where you came from,
Andria