Deviantart WHAT THE FUCK!?
Guys, we know. Buy 1 premium membership, get 1 for free. It's on the top of the page. I'd swear HQ had a journal on that, too, and I'd most probably find an e-mail promoting that if I cared to look in my spam folder. And I don't really mind a notice in message center. But... Having two notices is a slight overkill, don't you think? Seriously, all of the sudden it seems to me that deviantART is trying to rape me with that "buy 1, get 1 for free" offer.
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They want to make the most out of it 
Step 1: Unsubscribe from dA notifications.
Step 2: Go back to school and learn the definition of rape. Actually, pick up a dictionary and look it up.
Step 3: Stop whining about petty issues.
Step 2: Go back to school and learn the definition of rape. Actually, pick up a dictionary and look it up.
Step 3: Stop whining about petty issues.
Wow, your life must be all happiness and rainbows if excessive notifications are enough to fuck up your day.
I feel like I just got sexually molested reading your Complaint.
Hey, it was legitimate. At least you can't get pregnant!
... Today was supposed to be my day off.
Yet at 7:30 AM, I get a call from my manager. Two coworkers who are supposed to be there called out, the store has no power, and she wants me to come in. What for, since, with no power, I can do approximately fuck all. But if she didn't, then she'd just call my mom and bitch at her until I went anyway, so I can't get out of it.
I show up. I see not one, not two, not three, but FOUR carts jam-packed with books that I was intended to shelve. By myself. One coworker who showed up proceeded to do... fucking nothing. The other (who came in late) had her own shit to do. So here I am stuck with these carts. Which- we have no fucking room for anything out here. So I get through one cart. I do my best but only get a few books off of another two carts. I can't even get to the last cart because UPS dropped a metric fuckton of magazines off for me. I got all of one box done when ANOTHER shipment got here, slamming me with two wooden pallets stacked high with boxes of books.
So there's me, drowning in my boxes, incapable of actually doing anything about ANY of them due to the lack of power. I get set to go on break, and lo and behold: power! Yay. Now that leaves me with THREE fucking hours left to get as much of this shit done as possible with no help.
So there I am, unpacking... unpacking... unpacking. Coworkers bitch at me. They pile on garbage yet refuse to take it out. They whine about how tired and sick they are. I do as much as I can, yet you can still barely walk back there. I go to escape, and get snagged by these two idiotic motherfuckers looking for a USMLE exam book, yet this brain donor didn't even have any specific one in mind. I rattle down entire lists of these, making orders, cancelling orders everytime these fickle bitches think it's not quite the right book, or a different edition, or what-the-FUCK ever. I do this and get stuck a good solid half hour after I was supposed to leave.
... And my car also needs an oil change and a new tire.
So doesn't your problem seem like a little insignificant piece of flotsam now?
Yet at 7:30 AM, I get a call from my manager. Two coworkers who are supposed to be there called out, the store has no power, and she wants me to come in. What for, since, with no power, I can do approximately fuck all. But if she didn't, then she'd just call my mom and bitch at her until I went anyway, so I can't get out of it.
I show up. I see not one, not two, not three, but FOUR carts jam-packed with books that I was intended to shelve. By myself. One coworker who showed up proceeded to do... fucking nothing. The other (who came in late) had her own shit to do. So here I am stuck with these carts. Which- we have no fucking room for anything out here. So I get through one cart. I do my best but only get a few books off of another two carts. I can't even get to the last cart because UPS dropped a metric fuckton of magazines off for me. I got all of one box done when ANOTHER shipment got here, slamming me with two wooden pallets stacked high with boxes of books.
So there's me, drowning in my boxes, incapable of actually doing anything about ANY of them due to the lack of power. I get set to go on break, and lo and behold: power! Yay. Now that leaves me with THREE fucking hours left to get as much of this shit done as possible with no help.
So there I am, unpacking... unpacking... unpacking. Coworkers bitch at me. They pile on garbage yet refuse to take it out. They whine about how tired and sick they are. I do as much as I can, yet you can still barely walk back there. I go to escape, and get snagged by these two idiotic motherfuckers looking for a USMLE exam book, yet this brain donor didn't even have any specific one in mind. I rattle down entire lists of these, making orders, cancelling orders everytime these fickle bitches think it's not quite the right book, or a different edition, or what-the-FUCK ever. I do this and get stuck a good solid half hour after I was supposed to leave.
... And my car also needs an oil change and a new tire.
So doesn't your problem seem like a little insignificant piece of flotsam now?
Well, this is the complains forum.
Deviantart's also a good place for "who has it worse" pissing contests.
Deviantart's also a good place for "who has it worse" pissing contests.
Yeah, but I totally won that one.
But you've only won a poop medal.
I'll show ya a poop medal!!
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of the universe.
Matches the theme, no?
Well, it does.
It's pretty damn awesome. 
Well, it doesn't take much effort to delete them or unsubscribe from their emails. 
I don't think you know the definition of rape.
Using the word "rape" is a bit extreme, don't you think?
It could be worse, it could be three. 
Or FOUR! 
HOLY SHIT! Now that definitely would be complaint worthy!
don't make me turn this rape into a murder.....that's fucked up, I know.
Get one notice, get one free. 
But really, now. Is this so much of a bother you needed to make a complaint about it? It takes just one click and its out of your life.
But really, now. Is this so much of a bother you needed to make a complaint about it? It takes just one click and its out of your life.
Get one notice, get one free.
Winning. Winning!
Winning. Winning!