Adware Creators, You Are Not Fit To Wipe A Telemarketer's Ass

I just want to take a moment to state the obvious: there is a special room in hell, no make that an entire greasy, burning blood-drenched screaming miasmic underworldly layer, reserved entirely for the makers of adware. Harsh? Maybe. But keep in mind, I am one of those people who truly believes that everything in the world has an important role, however subtle. I even doggedly researched the mosquito's place in the ecosystem (which was very hard to find) because I knew there must be some reason not to blast them into chemical oblivion (turns out they are more prolific pollenators than bees). But I can find no place in the universe for the adware writer. The world would, in fact, buzz quite happily around the sun without them, perhaps even moreso, with increased speed and unencumbered browsing capability. I spent half my day picking through my registry, removing about a dozen different adwares from my PC which were simultaneously and unceremoniously installed when I googled into the wrong website. Fuckers. May flesh eating gnats gnaw off your eyelids and force you to watch helplessly as 40,000 popups prevent you from reading emails from your loved ones or finding the meaning of life or a sweet deal on ebay or the address of god, for all eternity.

There. I feel better now.

(And yes, I know - Mac. Unix. Anything but Windows. Fat lotta good that does me when I'm trying to surf at work, though...)