In short!

It’s official. I’m turning into one of those porch hag old bitter ladies. You know the type, sitting in their rocker, looking out over their tiny front yard and angrily shaking their fist at the youngsters passing by al raucously, skirting too close to her gardenias. Now, with my talent for killing flowers I obviously

Tinder Tales – A case of the Roy

So.It turns out I’m a total name-ist when it comes to dating, hahaha. Or at least, when it comes to my current Tinder-swiping behaviors. When asked to describe my (physical) taste in men I usually fall back on the silly description ‘a boyish, slender, boy-next-door type, you know, Shawn Mendes-ish-y with great hair’. Too specific?