Turgid in my Loquacious Caul

When a swarthy gentleman of obvious wit and perky buttocks arouses my passions, I find that instead of light-hearted banter and knowingly sly looks I begin to immediately vomit a near stream-of-consciousness flood of verbosity. The goal of such wild obfuscations being to confound and confuse my poor beau into never once suspecting my amorously licentious intentions. I can only assume that such shameless acts of verbal assault are the result of growing up an ugly duckling with my nose constantly ensconced in the musty tomes of my local library, a leisurely pursuit that allowed me to abscond from the doldrums of my daily routines in churlish suburbia; constantly hounded by the hormone-driven ululations of my fellow pre-pubescent kith and kin. Reaching maturation without ever developing the interpersonal skills of even the meanest debutante has left me ill-prepared with the vexing and arduous task of attracting a mate by anything remotely resembling normalcy. As such I force my hapless suitors through a labyrinthine morass of adumbrated intimations and obtenebrated innuendos, ultimately resulting in a sadly befuddled object of affection who briefly wonders if he hasn't been a secret somnambulist and has dreamed the entire encounter with this eccentricly peculiar narrator of bawdy intentions.

Seriously though, coy went out of style with Victorian collars being worn on people. I need to get with the times.

(bonus points awarded for people who can read this without a dictionary)

(edited 4-19-2007) It turns out that loquacious is spelled with a C and not a Q... I R smert.