We locked eyes over the glow of a flat panel monitor, I know I felt a connection as I raised an eyebrow at you while knifing someone in BF2. Something tells me you were having the same thoughts I was, that the only thing better than hitting the boost in flatout 2 would be having someone under your desk while you burn through that home stretch to take the gold. If your heart burns as strongly as mine at the thought of my hand softly guiding yours as you take aim in CS:S, then maybe I can be the water cooling for your overclocked hormones.
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You: Wearing too tight clothing, probably some cat ears, likely did a lot of walking around in the aisles pretending you didn't like everyone checking you out.
Me: Lumpy in all the wrong places, socially awkward, can't talk to girls
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