Dear Evil Corporate Guys Who Wish To Be Facebook,
Imagine, if you will, that you are hugely into balsa wood model camels. Because... camels! Made of balsa wood! Woo!
You are so into these balsa wood camels, that you decide to make a permanent display of camels for everyone to enjoy: your friends, your nodding acquaintances, random tourists, lonely orphan children with no shoes who will suddenly realise that they too can dream of balsa wood modelling... everyone. They will see your camel display and be INSPIRED. And have a fun day out for the whole family, filled with camel-themed delights.
So, you spend
months, every single evening for MONTHS making those intricate little model camels, and stressing about them, and posing them, and accidentally breaking them and crying, and fixing them up again, and going to bed exhausted, and setting up the perfect display just like you've always dreamed... and you paint the display room, set it all up, put flowers and streamers all over it, and make fancy little brochures telling people all about it.
...and then I come in, look around, shrug, and calmly burn the whole place to the ground.
THAT IS WHAT YOU HAVE JUST DONE TO ME.
I spent months,
MONTHS of my life, months I CANNOT GET BACK putting together the absolute best fic archive for
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still_grrr that I could possibly devise. I came up with thousands of tags, sorted entries by length, season, character, pairing, theme, style, and shoe size. I spent days organising tag bundles for each category. I made it completely possible to search the community for all the Cordelia/Giles mpreg season 5 genderswap PG-rated drabble darkfics you could want - and if that was what you wanted, that was
exactly what you'd get,
that specifically.
I poured SO MUCH time and effort into the bloody thing.
And now you, O Evil Delicious Owners, have revamped your site without a second thought, and destroyed the whole thing.
My tag bundles are gone.
The network is gone.
The pairing tags are gone.
The tag list is gone.
The multi-tag searches are gone.
The whole thing, in fact, is destroyed.
Somewhere in your evil clutches, Delicious Guys, are eight months of my life that I'd really like back. Could you please find them, dust them off, and return them so that I can devote them to windsurfing or learning Hindi, rather than spending them trying to finish a project that now turns out to have been pointless? Ta.
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