Hey lipsmackers, I am on a spree. I wrote a really snotty email to Banana Republic the other day about their half-assed use of CSS in their redesign, and they wrote back personally and thanked me for finding something they hadn’t tested. Dawww you guys! Hire me, and I will tell you how to fix it too. Until then, I remain a crank on the internet.

I have another nasty letter out to for not replying with their daily newsletter ad rates for one of my clients. Oh, you feel left out? You want a nasty letter too? Consider this entire website that nasty letter.

The next poison missive from the desk of Oh No You Di’n’t goes to: my hair stylist. Oh, sweet Boston stylist, I never should have left you. I am going back to you next week, if you will have me, for I just received the worst possible hair cut. I do not think I have had a hair cut this bad since my sainted mother strapped me into the swing set and stuck a bowl on my head. This one is close, in that it stops abruptly under my ears while continuing to drape down my back. Yet it blossoms forth in such a way that my head looks like a triangle screwed onto my shoulders. I am not sure how my now ex-stylist did this, because she barely removed any hair. I just shuddered and gaped, and she said “You’re going to make me cry,” and I said “Likewise!” I am not sure how these things happen, but they should not happen to me.

Oh, it’s been like three weeks. I am OVER that hurricane! What hurricane? Exactly.

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