I long for the way we used to be, BOCSticketing.com.

Oh, woe is the loss of that wonderful website where you could simply select a genre/venue/date, and it would direct you straight to that which you seek, lovingly disclosing details you could view to heart's content. Once, I savoured the time I spent leisurely browsing your database for the well-loved favourite or the new and original...those but mere moments when I could revel in the vibrance of the Perth art's scene, feel almost as if I'd attended shows I hadn't due to the detailed synopsis and colourful accompanying photograph you provided for my pleasure. Be able to determine which shows I definitely did not want to miss. Once, I felt as though those brief moments we shared were to cater to me, your beloved customer. But surely, as much as I came to appreciate those hasty passionate browsing affairs we've shared in the past - I never did anything to warrant such spite as you now inflict upon me? Surely I never did anything to warrant the bile that now rises in my throat everytime I'm forced to visit your pages, the flashy consumerist echo of a place I once deemed virtual home? Surely I never hurt you so gravely that you, my dear BOCSticketing.com, would reformat in such a way to keep me from returning to you, bar when absolutely necessary? I visit you now, my former love, and find you do not allow me access to yourself, shut me out totally. It is nigh impossible to find what any of your shows are about, you deprive me of even the simplest explanation, just eject me straight to a page which ruthlessly requests my banking details. Do my feelings mean nothing to you anymore, BOCSticketing.com? Do you no longer care about the thirst for knowledge you once respected and nurtured? It would appear as though I am no longer of interest to you, and you may never understand how you've hurt me, sweet BOCSticketing.com. Alas, our time together was too fleeting, and is now restricted to hasty rendezvous where we meet, I do what I gotta do, we part without words, and I am left with a dirty feeling afterwards. I will always remember you, as you used to be. And if I have it wrong, my dear BOCSticketing.com - if it's all just a showy front and the you I've come to love is still in there somewhere - please, call me a technological illiterate if you will - but tell me how to find your accessible format of yesteryear.