My Diseased Mind

Dear Myspace

Look, I know we haven’t always gotten along as well as we could have. You’ve created a platform by which some of the ugliest web pages in history have been created. Now, I’m no designer (exhibit A: this site), but I know bad design when I see it, and you are it. In the past, I’ve used phrases like “big, steaming load” and “weeping abscess” to describe my feelings about the look and usability of the site. The constant barrage of spam messages, comments, and friend requests, along with the frequent technical error pages is both annoying and unnecessary. The community is chock full of fake profiles, sexual predators, and the most vacuous people on the face of the earth. My wonder at your exponential growth is eclipsed only by my surprise that I actually use you.

Today, that’s all forgotten, and all I’ve got for you is thank you. Don’t be all coy. You know what you did, and I appreciate it. You didn’t have to, which simply adds to the awesome. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Tomorrow, you suck again.