Kathleen, I wanted to do this in this most potentially embarassing way possible, and I figured doing it here and now, in front of a quarter of a million strangers (give or take) was as good a way as any. I think you're pretty much a babe and I know now that I want to spend my night with you. Enough rambling. Will you have some drunken, sloppy sex with me?
I know you've decided to get married to Cmdr Taco of Slashdot and everything, and I'm totally cool with that. It happens to everybody, eventually, except for those of us that it never happens to who eventually grow big Unix beards and wear T-shirts with demons on them and hang out way too much at user groups for no good reason, regaling people with stories of how HPUX works.
But I have to say that you have an admirable pair of hooters there on you, and, HELL, you're not married yet or anything, so what's wrong with a little of the ol' ha-cha-cha? Seriously, no strings attached or anything. I'm totally cool with it.
It's Valentine's Day, after all, and hormones and shit are in the air. Plus I've got, like, a big leopard-skin bed with purple sheets on it, and it's pretty damn groovy. I also have a lot of auto-repair books in my bedroom, too, if you catch my drift. Eh? No, I mean, they're really auto repair books, but they've got some cool illustrations.
Anyways, like, let me know. I'll be waiting right here.
Update 15 minutes 30 seconds later: Subj: "Yes", message body: "Creep. You made me cry. :)" Hazah!
