Dear Mr. Computer,
I'm through with you. I want a divorce. Our relationship started off so nicely... truly it did. It all started with love at first sight, you then moved away with me to college, three hours from where we originally met. A year later you were stolen from me then a week later you were escorted back to me by the police. You suffered from memory loss, I worked with you through it. Building you back up to your original self. Now? And now? Now you want to quit on me, you want to be slow, you don't want to give me your all. You won't show me pictures, nor videos. When I talk to you through my webcam you make the video look hideous because you like to be skippy with it. I will soon be filing for divorce papers and if you want to know... yes you are being replaced. Replaced with one that's not so fat, yes I called you fat, and one that actually wants to participate with me through daily activities and routines. I'm sorry it has to come to this... but I really can't take your bull crap anymore.
The Diva Bee-otch!