Dear God, What Have We Crateated?

This picture makes me very very sad.  I want to meet this “Summer” person and punch her virtually everywhere.  There is no place on her person where she should not be punched.  I want to show this to kids in middle school and tell them that if they don’t pay at least a little bit of attention in school, they will be like Summer.  I want that to be an actual threat.

I want to make a compilation of people like this and take them in a professionally-bound folder to all potential employers and say to them, “LOOK AT THIS.  These are my peers.  These are real people in the real world, and many of them probably have jobs.  There is a man working in this very Safeway who has an ankle bracelet and an honest-to-god ten-inch lobotomy scar and he’s getting paid to stand at the end of the checkout counter and stare at the toothpaste, what in the hell could possibly have been wrong with my application that I don’t meet that standard?”

I want to go through this post and correct the 59 errors (I counted), and show them to Summer, and make her understand that now, because she has no concern for the English language, 539,000 people are wondering how she gets her pants on without falling over.

I want to know how she spelled “deserve” wrong.  Twice.  Two different ways.

I want to know why people like this exist.

I want to cry.

That is all.

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