“Your Honor, please allow me to explain…”

I mean…we gotta kill this guy, right? I don’t WANT to, but I’m not really seeing any alternative.

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I am nothing if not formal and proper…

BRB, changing all my dating profile pics…

Gimme

Friday night I signed up for Bumble. Late Saturday night I sent messages to eight entire men. Today I’m staring at the phone waiting for the guy who looks like a more reserved Pete Holmes to write me back, because damn, dude, HIGH TIDE.

(If you haven’t heard the Holmes bit, the high tide is in my pants.) 🌊

“That’s what relationships are all about, Charlie Brown.”

There’s something so gross about dating profiles in which men say they want to spoil their girlfriends. Or even better, “spoil my lady.” 🤢

Fuck you, dude, I can spoil my damn self. I need YOU to go down on me and do the dishes.

“Any questions?” Oh, SO many questions!

My brain on online dating: “Have I told you lately that you’re an undateable garbage monster?”

Also my brain on online dating: “Mm hm, sure have — several times, actually. Also, shut the fuck up, I’m trying to get us laid here.”