Dear God

This is a formal complaint, put in writing on behalf of my client, Ms N. Ms N feels that you are distinctly focusing your negative attention on her, or 'bloody picking on me' as she charmingly chooses to put it. Exams and courseworks have been scheduled in the same 3 weeks, the supermarket sold out of diet coke and Project Runway has just started and even as she watches it she feels 'a total sense of guilt, like i'm making fun of Tim Gunn when I should be writing about Bildungsromans'.

Her laundry has built up, she has an Iplayer full of tv shows and her Dad is threatening to delete American Dad from the family's sky plus. My client has ate her considerable body weight in sweets, her room is messy to a degree that would shock Stig of the Dump and her laptop is threatening to stage a coup if she threatens to 'throw it out of the window one more time'. Her body clock is off, she practically cried whilst reading a fic last night and could have punched a wall when an American called her 'a total douche' when she tried to play Halo on her brothers account on a rare break from cursing her academic ineptitude.

Cut her some slack, or my client will sue.