Eat a dick, Barnes and Noble. If you send me an email at almost five in the fucking morning with the subject title Your Holiday Wish Just Came True!, you have to do a lot better than marking down your stupid, lousy e-reader a stupid, lousy $20. My actual holiday wish to have five billion dollars “mysteriously” deposited into my bank account by some fucking murdered drug kingpin who promised me nobody would look for his stupid money after he died.
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