The cruel blade of the Friendster hegemony has weilded its weapon and deleted you. You managed to evade them for so long, but perhaps the end was inevitable. They smelled over 250 hot bitches (and about 250 other people, mostly of the bio-male, male identified variety to which I paid little attention) and had to break up our little party. A cyborgian soiree exuding lust and probably many electronic come hithers; an electronic fete showcasing the Valley's finest.

You brought together hot bitches and allowed me to write to people in the third person. Also, you provided a way for me to waste exorbitant amounts of time with record braking levels of unproductivity.

Why did Friendster have to delete you just before I was about to organize a party to meet Hot Bitches (the motto of this gathering was to be "A Gathering for Hot Bitches, By Hot Bitches")?

My love for hot bitches is the inverse of my love for the Friendster overlords.

Fondly,

Jane Torpedo