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cha-cha-cha
05/07/2007 = 11:00 AM

This is a repost from last summer. People, I tried to warn you.

Start rant.

Yesterday I was catching up on my reads.

A few of my Diaryland buddies have been doing either positive things such as picking out beautiful wedding dresses, or negative things such as being in crisis.

So I went into their guestbooks and signed them either with congratulations or with encouragement, as dictated, only to have my words not appear in their guestbooks after my having signed them.

I was a bit put out, but I just assumed guestbooks were broken. It wouldn't be the first time. They break a lot.

But then I went into someone's comments, and, well, here's the rest of that story, exerpted from the second Diaryland help ticket I left:

Yesterday I received a message, whilst trying to communicate some words of support in the comments section of one of my Diaryland buddies, that I am a spammer and I shouldn't bother even trying anymore.

I placed a help ticket in which I complained about this, especially since, when I had a genuine attack problem with your service, back when I was a Supergold member and giving you my money, you did nothing to protect me.

Today I went to check the ticket and found that it had been deleted.

Not responded to, either positively ("we're sorry for the mistake") OR negatively ("we've had reports you ARE a spammer, and that's why you're not allowed to comment anymore") but simply deleted.

I don't know if that's your idea of "help" or "support", but it certainly isn't mine, and I doubt other members of your service will be pleased to learn that, should they incur your ire someday, they may receive the same treatment.

They will, however, be learning about it, as I will be posting a copy of this on my page today.

How's that for maintaining a somewhat rational façade, eh?

It wasn't easy, I assure you.

Because, people, I am completely, but totally, bugshit-crazy-furious right now.

I have been spun violently into the Oh, No, You DINNIT! Dimension of Pissoffedness, desperately attempting to navigate back to My Happy Place.

I think I've been going gradually enough in removing myself from Diaryland's clutches, and it's time to make a clean break. The service was abysmal before, yet I always gave them the benefit of the doubt, as they were shorthanded. Now, it's pretty plain that they're trying to be rid of me, specifically, and so they shall be.

Here is how I'm planning to work my way back into the Valley of Not Wanting to Rip Andrew's Lips Off:

As for whoever lied and told Diaryland I am a spammer, well, they need a   diaper change  maturity check, to be sure, but they got what they wanted, and I'm not going to blame them. Andrew had every opportunity to give me a chance to defend myself and did not bother to do so, although I had been a Diaryland supporter since 2001 (including paid memberships for about half that time).

End rant.

No, I lied.

You may have noticed that every reference to Diaryland has been connected to a URL link for the Blingo search engine ... but the search is for "Diarrhealand".

Diarrhealand is not original. I never referred to it as such, because I wanted to rise above that sort of childishness.

Many of you know that I generally resolve, at least once a year, to keep my temper and try to be nicer to real people (as opposed to politicians and celebrities, who are open game), with varying degrees of success.

I was doing pretty well this year, but I've got to break from that, at least for a little while. Because it's turned me into a doormat.

I'm setting the Age-Regress-O-Meter to, hrm, let's see, eight years old ought to do it.

Three, two, one, whoosh.

So if you click any of the links, Diaryland is the last returned search for "diarrhealand" on the Blingo page. Scroll down the Blingo page and click that last link to be directed to Diaryland. Make Diaryland the number one returned search for the phrase "diarrhealand".

If you need further incentive, Blingo awards random prizes for searches. Which means you could help avenge me and potentially win swag at the same time.

Diarrhealand, cha-cha-cha.

And, with a satisfying thunk, I have returned to My Happy Place.

Now end rant, for reals.

New podcast is up, by the way.

http://golfwidow.podomatic.com to listen, download, and/or subscribe.

The podcast, by the way, for those of you who have never listened, is stuff I don't cover in here, and it's generally only between ten and fifteen minutes long.

And you get to hear my post-nasal-drip. It's good times.

Tags: rant, Diaryland, Blingo, podcast

drinking: coffee
listening to: Alannah Myles, Long Long Time (Linda Ronstadt cover)
diaryland-andrew: is wearing torn boxers that he hasn't changed in two weeks. also, ever since unclebob came back, andrew has been so worked up he can't stop fondling his teeny-weeny little penis, which is why he doesn't respond to help tickets. (oops — forgot to reset the age-regress-o-meter. oh well)