ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT, YOU GOT IT OUT OF ME:

I'm dating someone.

Now stop fucking pestering me about it.

Ann is an old friend of mine. We first met when we started working together about 8 years ago when I began writing at VH1, and I always found her incredibly funny, sweet, and intensely cute. Yes, this was 8 years ago, and as the years ticked by, we lost track of one another and then wound up working together at a friend's production company 4 years back, where we started to really get to know one another. After my mini-stroke, something she herself has had the pleasure of experiencing, Ann and I began to hang out fairly regularly, getting together for drinks or food or food and drinks every month or two and became close friends, keeping up with each other via the "I.M." on the "intertubes" or whatever the hell this thing is called.

Recently, following 2-3 months of intense self-examination and freaking out and my life flipping on it's ass and back again, I asked my friend Ann to go on a date. And she said yes.

ARE YOU SATISFIED NOW YOU NOSEY BASTARDS?