That's what I love about you, scratch that prog, death metal, archly cynical exterior and you're a gooey marshmallowey, soppy,
U2 fan
... damn you.
I'll think about it.
And no, I'll pass this time. Let someone else who's around more often do it.
Bah, that's why I wanted you to do it. Somebody different. Because I've made two in a row, so the next one's open for whoever wants to do it.
