Dear washed-up diva: Your tech fucking sucks. He absolutely must be related to you—because if he's not, you are an even bigger fucker than you appear to be. You put the whole show behind with your absolute joke of a sound check. (Hey Jersey brohawk: You can't hear anything in your in-ears because you have the beltpack turned down.) And THEN, after that disaster, your tech delayed the show because he can't work Pro Tools Venue. Forty-five fucking minutes to figure out that the tracks were assigned to the wrong channels—45 FUCKING MINUTES! Then you have the audacity to go on a diatribe about how the house sound was fucking up your set? Your two hits in the '90s do not qualify you to act like an angsty 15-year-old, destroying other people's gear and blaming the house because you can't fire the problem.

—Anonymous