Frustration runs rampant in these mad bones.
If I could, I would wad up every miserable scrap of website design (domains, hosts, transfers, servers, etc.), gnash it down between my teeth to the size of a mealy pit and launch its slimy, spit ball remains into the eye of whatever maniac cursed the writing world with author websites.
Logically, I know these obscenities’ uses.
Personally, I loathe them more than toads.