Angelina Burnham On Crouch Sex Dating ❤️❤️

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Okay, so I’m scrollin’ X the other night—procrastinatin’, naturally—and I see this post: “Sex-dating tip: bring condoms AND a charger.” I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my coffee. Pretty, pretty good advice, though! Battery dies, mood dies—tragedy! Made me happy, y’know, seein’ some wit in this cesspool. But then—THEN—I match with this chick, total smokeshow, right? We’re chattin’, it’s goin’ great, and she goes, “I only date guys who’ve seen ‘The Royal Tenenbaums.’” I’m like, “Honey, I AM Royal Tenenbaum—minus the tax evasion!” She ghosts me anyway. Ghosted! Me! I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “This is not a world-class sex-dating story!” I was pissed—PISSED! Wasted my best Wes Anderson vibes on her.

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Then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches my pastry! I’m like, “No way! Not my Crouch Crunch!” But that bird was relentless. I swear it looked me in the eye, like, “This is mine now.” I was furious! I mean, who does that?

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