Goodbye, Blockbuster. Hello, Netflix.

I've loathed you for so long, but you've finally ticked me off enough and increased my fee high enough that I feel nothing but great joy today as I cancel my online subscription.

We've been together so long, you probably thought you could do anything to me (like slowly take away all the perks you offered when we first got together) and I'd just keep paying whatever fee you arbitrarily imposed. Wrong. I hate you.

If you think I'm going to miss you and your "No Late Fees," forget it. I don't need to keep 27 Dresses forever, or even two weeks.
My new friend Netflix is a cheaper date ($8.99 vs. $11.99) and gives me everything you offer plus free, streaming movies online whenever I feel like it. If I want to watch Burt Reynolds direct and star in Hard Time at this very moment, I can.

Oh, what's that you say? I can't return Netflix movies to the store and get another right now? Well, you've imposed a twice-a-month limit on that perk, and if I can eliminate any interaction at all with your staff of know-nothing-know-it-alls who come into the store on their off days to play Guitar Hero, but lack any customer service skills unless they're trying to sell me a $3 20-ounce Coke, my life will be much, much happier.

Again, I hate you. Goodbye.

*A note to potential employers who've Googled my name and found me using questionable language in a doctored logo to express my disdain for an evil corporate entertainment giant: First of all, I'm not even sure it's an expletive anymore -- just a slightly naughty word now used widely on cable television. In fact, in South Carolina, there are thousands of otherwise completely conservative, highly-employable, church-going people driving around with "Go Cocks" on license plates and bumper stickers. Instead of focusing on a little word, take note of my mildly adept use of Photoshop and online media to communicate with a global audience. Thank you for your consideration and I look forward to hearing from you soon.