The Dating Thread

[Jorge]

Dev is the one Argo has been cute with

Also, VinylGuy

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Dev is the one Argo has been cute with

Also, VinylGuy

True, but not physically

[Jorge]

Dev is the one Argo has been cute with

Also, VinylGuy

True, but not physically

I disagree

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Dev is the one Argo has been cute with

Also, VinylGuy

True, but not physically

I disagree

Go on…

[Ello Sailor]

Actual footage of Argo trying to take a nap in his chair:

[The Argonaut]

LLCA. Ladies Love Cool Argo

[lennytheweedwhacker]

How much does she weigh?

[The Argonaut]

Brah

[The Argonaut]

Let's just say it's definitely three figures

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Hefty

[The Argonaut]

She's five five with good posture and she wears regular shoes, and I'm almost five seven but I slouch and wear barefoot shoes so we're basically the same height which is cool

[doug rr]

I don't think you're ready for 5'5 and regular shoes...they can put on a show that might leave you crying

[The Argonaut]

I'm ready, doug

[doug rr]

what's her normal routine on a Sunday?

[Jorge]

Barefoot shoes?

[The Argonaut]

what's her normal routine on a Sunday?

Up at sunrise, jog and shower, 8am Mass, volunteer at the soup kitchen until 3pm, cook dinner and share it with her friends and family, clean up, meal prep for the week, in bed by 9.

[Jorge]

Oh, those minimalist things.

[The Argonaut]

Barefoot shoes?

Wide toe box, zero drop, low stack height, flexible sole. Picture this, but with socks.

[doug rr]

what's her normal routine on a Sunday?

Up at sunrise, jog and shower, 8am Mass, volunteer at the soup kitchen until 3pm, cook dinner and share it with her friends and family, clean up, meal prep for the week, in bed by 9.

is she into Soto, Judge, or Mattingly?

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.