"I hate your blog. You own a dog, and you feed it. You post about it. I get to read it. Plus: five paragraphs on the socks you bought and your thoughts on whether Nicole Ritchie's hot or not. You got no reason to be typing, yet you persist. Hit each key with your fist till you punch out your top ten list of all the things that ever happened in your life. Number one: met Michael Jackson's second wife. Number two: got Curly on the Which Stooge Are You Poll, as the GIF proves. Click for the link-through! Three: saw puppy pictures on a web page, kittens in a nest egg. The idea gestated: Why not open up your own? So you bought the account and yet I hope you don't put the payments in on it every month like they want, 'cause then you'll disappear off the internet, haunt just the Wayback Machine like a ghost. And I won't be like, "How come you don't post??" I promise I won't." MC Frontalot hates your blog.

Spend about a week eating Cheetos, cutting your fingernails, and eating sugary snacks directly over your laptop, getting that crap all over (and between) the keys. Also be sure to sneeze directly on the screen (bonus points for having a mouth full of soda at the time). If you don't have the heart to tell them no directly, maybe you can indirectly dissuade them from wanting to use it. Plus if you get hungry during class you can always dig out some of those Cheeto bits ...