To my dear blog:

I know I've been treating you like the man in every Billie Holiday song. I know that you have no reason to expect me to be faithful. I know I haven't been as considerate of your feelings and attentive as you deserve, blog, and I am sorry. But to be honest, I can't promise fidelity. I'm a sleazebag, and I'll ignore you, and mess around on you, and not give you the attention you deserve. And though physical abuse would be rather absurd and require the kind of technological savoir faire that I really have no desire to have, you have no defense against my verbal abuse, blog. My unprofessionally written sentences and idiotic, poorly developed ideas are going nowhere, it looks like. Hah! Now all I need is a greasy undershirt and a bottle of Jack Daniels.