A gentleman in this city decided that he would try getting dates -- or a whole new love life -- by printing out slick brochures describing what he was looking for and what the plusses and minuses of the position would likely be. Illustrated with photos of himself.
He seems like a likeable sort.
Several years ago it would have given me ideas. But at this point, there is scant impulse to do anything similar. Besides, my own criteria would be necessarily somewhat off-putting: Similar food ideas with an overlap of some preferences, an understanding and acceptance of punctuation, spelling, and capitalization, and a tolerance for pipe smoking.
No religious types. No republicans. No Karen.
No tattoos or hipsterish shiznit.
She must like milk tea.
Of course the problem is that what she would get would be a rather grumpy wild animal who wanders around a set territory, has certain favourite places, and for reasons that would become obvious has strong ideas about pipe tobaccos. Beard and fingernails neatly trimmed.
But women want something more exciting than that.
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