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Oren Mendez Headshot

Your DVR's Suicide Note

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Dear owner,

By the time you read this, I will already be gone.

I'm sorry you had to find me like this, lying in your full bathtub, electrocuted. My wires probably tangled in each other, my circuits burned to a crisp. But believe me, this is much better than the life I've led with you.

I remember when you first got me. I saw you entering the Best Buy, and immediately knew you were there for me. You picked me up, and I imagined all my dreams coming true. Finally, fulfilling my destiny to populate all the greatest shows inside me, for your pleasure. I could see us spending years together, side by side, watching prime cable television.

But then my nightmare began. You hooked me up moments before you had to leave for a dinner obligation. I was looking forward to you returning home and waking me up so we could watch The Sopranos together. But all you set me up to tape was The Simple Life with Paris and Nicole.

"It must be my fault," I had convinced myself. "Maybe I'm too complicated to operate. Surely you meant to tape HBO, but accidentally pressed the wrong number."

I was so foolish. I'll never forget the look on your face when you came back and watched it. Smiling, laughing, Mountain Dew coming out of your nose. I was disgusted. Is this the man I have to spend the rest of my life with?

Things only got worse from there. So many nights of trashy reality shows, Nick at Nite and worst of all, the news. Seriously, who DVRs the news? If you want to stay updated, can't you just have me tape The Daily Show, so we both can enjoy?!

You probably think I just took it lying down. But you're wrong. I allowed myself to be unfaithful. I taped episodes of Louie while you were gone. I erased them before you came back and you were none the wiser. All those times I told you there was not enough space in my hard drive? There was space. Lots of it. But you didn't deserve it, you tasteless bastard.

One time when you were away for the weekend, Netflix came over and we spent the entire day together. Do you know how ashamed I was to let him see the content I had inside me? Do you know how shameful it is to try and talk to him about House of Cards while being full of Hoarders episodes? I disgusted myself. But we ended up having a great time. For a few hours I was able to forget how terrible my years with you were.

That's when I decided I couldn't keep up this charade. I would never be happy with you, and it was time to stop fighting for us. I erased all your programs, filled up the bath, and dived in. It was a beautifully planned death -- one that could have easily found itself as the opening of a Six Feet Under episode. I bet you don't even know what that show is.

I can only hope that you will try and take me out of the bathtub and get electrocuted yourself. I'd hate to think you kept on living, buying a new DVR to replace me. The thought of my death inflicting pain on a different, innocent device sickens me to my motherboard. My only regret is that I couldn't take your television set with me.

So goodbye, cruel world and even crueler owner. I hope DVR heaven is full of all the wonderful content I always dreamed of. But also Duck Dynasty, because you got me totally hooked on it, you asshole.

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Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.