Memo to Ticketmaster: I love you just as much as the next guy. I love the little indecipherable verification words, and the "Convenience" charges, and the extra buck-fifty I have to throw in for the Building Facility, since apparently they don't glean enough off the original exorbitant ticket price to be able to afford toilet paper.
But what I don't love is that you keep sending me e-mail alerts suggesting, nay, demanding that I "Don't miss The Wiggles!" Listen, Ticketmaster: Just because I bought Wiggles tickets five years ago doesn't mean I want to be prodded every time they come back to town. I'm sorry to say this, but ... We don't like The Wiggles anymore. We couldn't even tell you the name of the guy who replaced Greg. My kids have moved on! You should as well.
Um ... If Hannah Montana comes around, though, I'm in.