Edit (9/3/24 9:43PM CST) – All’s quiet on the Western Front…
It appears Tinder has a word-count limit.
That’s gonna irritate this hyper-verbose wordsmith.
Regarding her: I liked this one a lot when I saw her. Excited to see where this might go.
Tinder’s ‘vaccinated’ field is hilarious.
Update 9/5/24: she expired out off my profile without so much as a word.
C’est la vie.
Opening salvo:
“Well hello there!
OK – straight up: have you ever been on this app, seen someone, and thought “(Wo)Man…I really hope (s)he hits that ‘Like’ button on me; (s)he’s gorgeous/handsome/an absolute smoke-show I’d be willing to die of smoke inhalation from?
Yeah, totally me neither. Like, you know, ever…
Red hair, pale skin, freckles, & you sound like a great hang on a Friday and/or Saturday evening on top of the eye-catching superficialities.
I dare not say ‘total package,’ but if you speak with an Irish or Scottish brogue, you might literally be. Speaking to that, are you a SPF eleventy-billion like my fog-loving dermis, or have you trained your (assumedly) Erin (Irish for ‘Ireland’) skin to handle the Midwestern sun somehow? While sun-kissed, it seems like you’re absolutely flourishing in it.
Me? Very Irish; just check the origins & meaning of my name. This wooly beard used to have way more red.
Here’s to your Sunday self-care going gangbusters!
“Hit me back; let’s hike/explore!”
