James and the Giant Breach

Disclaimer: I am aware that everything I’m about to say makes me a complete asshole.

Still with me? Excellent.

First OkCupid message:

“Hello Smug! I think I love you(r) amazing sense of humor, sarcasm, and snarkiness.”

*hyperventilating* Oh, OK. Apparently even a JOKE about love gives me a tiny anxiety attack.

“Can we please go people watch together, because you just might be my match. Like when you’re holding hands and your fingers fill the spaces in the others persons hand. I bet we’d have fun in Wal Mart!”

…Wait, what?

“My name is James. Let’s just start with the basics… Favorite color, beverage, food (Just kidding, let’s do this over a drink! )”

I don’t even know my favorite color because I am neither 8 years old nor Buddy the Elf. My favorite foods/drinks are in my profile because OKC asks for them. The profile also says I’m not meeting anyone immediately because I’m not becoming a Lifetime movie when you axe murder me.

“P.S. did I mention that I LOVE your sense of humor? The smile isn’t all that bad either…”

Jesus Christ on drums, James — stop saying “love.”

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