|The Trouble With F***book
||[Saturday 1 Jan 2011 at 01:32 am]
Oh, you messaged me a poem on Facebook. How nice. Who are you, again?|
I must have friended you for a reason.
Let's see. Based on this poem, either you're postmodern or you're not a native speaker of English. (What's the difference?) Looks like you're Russian based on those funny letters in your profile. And pretty. Love those eyes.
Okay, but whence do I know you. Wait, was it that dance class three years ago? You've lost weight and you're looking good. If that was you.
Okay, what's in the poem? Best wishes but vaguely salacious. That could just be infelicity with the language, though. I don't remember you being full of double entendres, but it was a long time ago. And we hardly ever spoke English. That's probably why I don't remember much. Let's assume it's just ordinary new year wishes.
I wonder if I'm supposed to respond to this. Would it be impolite to ignore it?
Non sequitur: I really like the new HP printer ad on Hulu with the theatre prop special effects.