I Bet Netflix Has Erratic Handwriting

Netflix is totally turning into that tragic crazy chick from college, isn't it? First it was all those drunk emails from Reed whatshisname (I'm raising prices! I'm splitting into two companies! Why don't the boys think I'm pretty?) and lately I feel like Netflix is threatening me. Those emails entitled "How was the picture quality on ______?" feel slightly menacing. I'm monitoring your viewing habits, and I'm ready to tell your spouse about them at any time. Don't think you can just stream Mannequin 2, then delete it from your queue before she sees it. Don't you take me for granted, dammit. I'm cuter and thinner than she is. Wait, don't run, I bought you some flowers. . .