FUCK OFF CLASSMATES.COM

I clicked on you once during an enchanted NyQuil evening.

Despite all the warnings on the bottle about decision making, I signed up with you purely out of curiosity. What was I thinking? What was I thinking you assholes?

STOP IT! QUIT IT! I keep 'unsubscribing' but you keep 'subscribing'! What am I supposed to do? I was curious, and I know it's my own fault, but you appear to be giving the option to quit. Shouldn't you honor that?! I THINK YOU SHOULD.

I could not curse that night more if I tried. And I'm trying really hard!

Stop calling and stop writing classmates.com!

I don't care! I never really knew these people anyway (with all my cutting.)
What is your hope, classmates.com? If you think for a second that:
A) A time machine will be invented in the next hour and,
B) I'll get into that time machine and go back to 1987 when Tony Markwick was running for school president and he was handing out cherry Starbursts to everyone so that they would vote for him and,
C) He miraculously didn't hate me so much at that time and,
D) We became best friends and vowed to keep in touch forever in the future through a magical electronic portal...then you're wrong!

I'm telling you for the last time classmates.com,
Eat a bowl of dick and leave me alone!

-J.