So, About Match.com

As some of you may not know, I apparently have a Match.com profile.

The short story is, someone who has yet to reveal his or herself set up a Match.com profile for me, in what I assume is a now abandoned practical joke. I’ve never seen the profile, and attempts to get the password have turned up nil. The only reason I know this profile exists is the same reason that makes it so damn annoying: the e-mails.

On average, I get about five e-mails a day (I’ve literally gotten two just while writing this post) with varying degrees of embarassment and creepiness.

Seriously, this is weird.

Seriously, this is weird.

I usually don’t even open them, I just send them directly to my trash file. However, occasionally I’ll accidentally open one when I’m going through my inbox.

I am so, so glad I opened this one.

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Wait for it.

 

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Wait for it.

 

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BOOM.

So, it’s official: the world of internet dating has decided that the best chance I have for finding love is a war-mongering dicatator.

Well…