Complaint Department, Take a Number
I got this email from this guy last night (who I will not name, for his own sake) that went like this:
I object to the existence of your site. Who do you think you are to make fun of paraesthesia? You know what that is? You know what that means?
I am looking for sites to get to know what’s the problem with my girlfriend’s health (she had hit her back and now she has paraesthesia in her legs and arms) just to find the main site: www.paraesthesia.com occupied by something completely irrevelant?!
Okay, there is a very tiny piece of me that sympathizes for the guy. He can’t find what he’s looking for online.
Then there’s this gigantic other piece of me that shoots that very tiny piece of me in the forehead and wants that guy to figure it out and go use Google.
How does he think I felt when I went to illig.com and found a ridiculous avant garde clothing outfit? Probably more pissed off than he was that I chose a reasonably irrelevant name for my site. My site that has absolutely nothing to actually do with the medical condition of paraesthesia.
Why do I hate stupid people so much?