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cut the crap, i want to flip the bird.
vent, bitch, and moan flipping a digital, written bird.
you're digging on the jeremy irons tag.
id#64db17 ♦ 5120 (1390)
 
Dear Hewlett-Packard, you band of moneygrubbing imbeciles:

You have no idea how pleased I was when I received the laptop I purchased from you. Before that, I had been relying on my now 7-year-old ancient mac that cannot handle Youtube without crashing. How overjoyed I was to finally be able to play computer games again. How thrilled I was to be able to video chat with my friends and family back home.

Then your cheap little plastic screen decided it wasn't backwards enough. The beautiful video card I paid extra for was behaving perfectly, it was completely and totally your fault. Your customer service representative read his fake sympathy off the script like a third grader giving a book report, finally telling me that I'd have to send it in to get my screen replaced. Fine, whatever, as long as I get a working computer again.

A week and a half later, my computer returns. I was happy, like the fool I was. I unwrapped the package, inserted my battery and...wait, my battery won't go in. I don't know how you managed to do it, but you immobilized the battery latch. All you had to do was replace the screen, but you decided to cripple my laptop, strand it to whatever outlet happened to be near.

This time, your customer service rep made his predecessor sound like Jeremy Irons. His fake sympathy was unrelenting, grating on my ears and whispering homicidal urges in my brain. Before I could hang up the phone and start assaulting people on the street, you revealed to me that I will have to send my laptop in again so you could fix your embarrassing blunder.

So, I packed it up and dropped it off at my local Fed-Ex for the second time. I can only hope that the box falls out of the plane so I can demand my money back. With any luck, the box will smash into one of your goddamned skulls. Maybe it will tunnel straight through his flabby little body, your no-doubt cheaply built building, into the hastily constructed and volatile boiler room which will blow up your entire factory and every innocent living soul you have shackled up in there.

I hope you enjoy all of the money you've scrounged by making sub-par, plastic pieces of shit and passing them off as good, quality computers, because there is a spot in hell reserved specifically for you cunts. I like to imagine a serpent dripping battery acid above your head, your loved ones dutifully catching the acid in a cup. When the cup is full, they will have to go into the next room to empty it and will not return until they have successfully torrented a feature length movie on a 56k connection.

Love,
Me.
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holy shit dude.
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screw you, pal is some dumb thing from two dudes. one dude coded it. the other supplied ideas while under the influence.
© those two dudes 2010-2017.
by ✂ czr media

5:25:25 am, saturday, june 24th, 2017 cdt in 0.373 seconds.

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