You sir, are a bastard. I love blogging, and because I'm already all set up with an account, and my page is all super cute and shit, I'll keep you...but I am SO not a fan.
Here's my laundry list of reasons why I wish you would explode in a mass of microchips and technology.
1. Why won't you let me figure out my own freaking spacing? God forbid I actually want to post a dreaded picture on my blog, because it means it's going to take me two hours to get the spacing just the way I want it, and I have to save, and then fix, and then save again, and then cross my fingers, and light some incense, and kill some sort of livestock and pray to the Lord that you actually put things where I want them to go instead of where you think they should be, which is always like, four inches below the post. Seriously. LEAVE MY PICTURES ALONE.
2. What do you have against refreshing the everloving page? Refresh, jackass, refresh!
3. You have more "scheduled outages" than any company I've ever used. Seriously. Those rolling outages scheduled by the electric company have got nothing on you.
4. Sometimes I tool around on your "next blog" link in the navigation bar, hoping to find another interesting blogger to stalk at 10:58 on a Sunday night. Know what I find? Nothing in English. Nothing. I don't even know what half the languages are, but I'm pretty freaking sure IT'S. NOT. ENGLISH. And it's not just the first 2-3 blogs that pop up...I've gone through 15 of them without finding one I could read. I'm more than willing to blog stalk, but damn, Blogger...work with me!
P.S. Whoever has the 4387 blogs devoted to Dylan and Cole Sprouse needs to die. Now.
P.P.S. I just attempted to test this language theory, and the first 5 blogs I pulled up were all in English, and actually pretty entertaining. Meh. Blogger obviously knows I'm planning this post and is trying to discredit me. Bastard.
Whatever, Blogger. At this point, I'm ready to call truce and sing your praises if you'll just give me my spacing back. PLEASE. Give me my spacing!
Off to shave my legs, watch Dexter and ruminate on what to complain about next.
Sometimes, just a little bit Sincerely,
The bitch with the pink blog