Dear (bastards at) Netflix,
One of my younger brothers sent me a news item today stating that your contracts with the BBC were about to expire, and unless you got your shit together in a major hurry, there would be no more BBC for me.
I protest on behalf of the millions of Anglophiles, both public and closeted, who rely on this service to watch shows that are both intelligent and free of the crappy commercials that plague regular TV. How can you deprive me thus?
I mean, come on. We don't have murder mysteries that don't resemble something out of the Friday the 13th or Saw series of movies, or have multi-syllabic dialogue.
We don't have the same 12 actors appearing in everything, thus creating a fun, steady brainteaser of, "Where have we seen her before?", resulting in much puzzling and the eventual give-up move of using IMDB.
We don't show men's asses nearly as much. At least not the ones we would want to see.
We don't have characters that agonize for seasons at a time over whether or not they should ask each other out on dates. Come on, people! Some of us need that thrill of sitting on the edge of the couch yelling, "Just kiss him already!!"
We don't have any actors that are allowed to age like real people. We have to turn to Europe for that.
Besides...Matthew Rhys. Julian Rhind-Tutt. Well, forget about eye candy. Jean and Lionel! Hyacinth Bucket!
Not enough? OK, two words: Dr. Who.
So, I am forced to cry, and look for alternatives that I never would have considered before - namely, your rivals. Who may or may not be user friendly.
I'm asking you please, please, please, from the bottom of my spotted dick-loving heart, keep Britain in America! Until then, I'm pissed (as in American pissed - angry, not drunk.)