I’m flattered WordPress, I really am. But you’re not my type. You are rather droll, dull, delve into data mining, detrimentally dumb, disorganized, dreadfully repetitive, despicably distant, and impossible to get to know. You keep us at a distance with your bugs and your malware attacks, and frankly, I’ve had enough.
I will not go to a restaurant with you, WordPress. You strike me as the type to bring a briefcase to a five star restaurant and put your leftovers in it. 
I will not go out with you, WordPress. But here’s what you can do: send food to my house. I love basil pesto with fresh angel hair pasta. Thanks in advance.















