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Tinder

Is Tinder for quilts

  • Yes

    Votes: 45 46.9%

  • No

    Votes: 11 11.5%

  • Yer mar is on it

    Votes: 40 41.7%
  • Total voters
    96
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Not open for further replies.
jal123 said:
Exactly, it was good enough for me. Shove your tinder up your arse, hang about outside the Krazyhouse near kicking out times and pick up a vulnerable goth tart for the ride of your life
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Nice to know my teenage era tactics have stood the test of time! I used to resort to the Cavern a few times, too.
 
chicoazul said:
#obvs mate. But that's not the point here. The point is that you Guetta wannabe quilts are devoid of personality because Santa brought you play stations and iPhones. And we got second hand portables and Hungry Hippos.

You scruffy ladbible ridden texans. Shave that ketwig and get back in your box room.
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We discussing your matches here?
 

What's wrong with doing it properly? Like in the good old days.

A bit of tradition. Seeing her and being enchanted by the way she smiles or laughs. Building up the courage to speak to her, getting to know her and the things she likes and enjoys. Growing the relationship until you look into her eyes and just know she's the one.
And she knows you're not.
The texts and phone calls. The pain of rejection. The stalking her on Facebook and mapping her every move. Then the beautiful moment you snatch her off the street and bundle her into your van. That rush of adrenaline as you drive off at high speed knowing that for a couple of hours at least, or until the police find you and smash down the door, you can subject her to all manner of humiliation and do to her what you'd only previously dreamt of and plotted out exactly many many times.

I miss the good old days.
 
Just at the bar, checking if Chico is still reeling. I'll be back on later to dance around him like a wool smoke throwing jabs
 
chicoazul said:
#obvs mate. But that's not the point here. The point is that you Guetta wannabe quilts are devoid of personality because Santa brought you play stations and iPhones. And we got second hand portables and Hungry Hippos.

You scruffy ladbible ridden texans. Shave that ketwig and get back in your box room.
Click to expand...

So basically, The King is Dead, Long live the King.
 
tommye said:
What's wrong with doing it properly? Like in the good old days.

A bit of tradition. Seeing her and being enchanted by the way she smiles or laughs. Building up the courage to speak to her, getting to know her and the things she likes and enjoys. Growing the relationship until you look into her eyes and just know she's the one.
And she knows you're not.
The texts and phone calls. The pain of rejection. The stalking her on Facebook and mapping her every move. Then the beautiful moment you snatch her off the street and bundle her into your van. That rush of adrenaline as you drive off at high speed knowing that for a couple of hours at least, or until the police find you and smash down the door, you can subject her to all manner of humiliation and do to her what you'd only previously dreamt of and plotted out exactly many many times.

I miss the good old days.
Click to expand...
Snapchat this right into their Ritalin addled minds right now. They gotta learn life. This is life.
 


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