5 Reasons To Get Off Tinder

#5:  Hemorrhoids:  Lets face the facts backed up by over a year worth of collected data:  The majority of us don’t want to waste any of our “free” time swiping other losers left and right on a web-based application on our phone.  Most likely because the bigger investment we make to the Tinder world, the more proof we have that we have truly given up on true love all together.  We give applications like Tinder the exact respect it deserves.  We only open the application in the privacy of the bathroom, and only begin deciding if someone is fuckable enough for a swipe while we sit on our porcelain throne.  We are the Kings and Queens of Tinder during this bowel movement!  A small bump in my most recent relationship actually happened when my boyfriend left to take his morning dump, and came back to a naked Trish in his bed.  Four accidental password thumb slips later, and I looked over to see that he had been thumbs deep in his Tinder application.  Are you fucking kidding me, John?  First of all that chick has a face tat and purple hair, what could you possibly see in me if that’s what you are interested in?  He reassured me that, just like everyone else, he only swipes from the toilet for entertainment.  Listen, I’ve opened my mind up to just about anything to meet someone special, but I really don’t want to have to explain to my future (relatively fucked-up) children that their Dad said he would fuck me by using his thumb to carefully drag and drop a picture of me in a bikini (which I took after a breakup), while he was in between a bowel movement and wiping his ass.  Additionally– your rectums need a break.  Take your shit and move on with your life.  Don’t sit there for three hours putting all that pressure on your delicate starfish; it’s not healthy, and we’ll all end up with hemorrhoids.  What I’m trying to say is, if you’re only tinder-ing on the toilet, let that be all you need to confirm that your next Tinder match most likely isn’t your future husband or wife.


#4:  Battery Life:  I usually hover around 37% battery life on my iPhone.  With notifications of hearts on Instagram, likes on Facebook, and retweets on Twitter currently being my main source of confidence; I can’t have any other applications taking up my precious battery life.  Sorry, Bank of America.  We will need to discuss me dipping into the red another time.  I need to refresh all of my social media applications to prove that I add value to the universe every 5-7 minutes.  I tried to make plans with a Tinder match from the toilet of a restaurant I was dining at recently, and just as I’m grabbing toilet paper to wipe with one hand, while confirming plans with my other, it dies.  So frustrating.  I didn’t even fully enjoy that poop because I was half present, and half trying to create witty banter with a complete stranger.  What a waste of time and energy.  I walked out of the bathroom to see a hot gentleman who smiled at me, and said, “If there was toilet paper on your shoe; I’d tell you” with a wink.  “I just took a huge shit” I responded to him.  Damn it, I’m all out of wit.  I just exhausted it on a Tinder match who I will likely never speak to again, because my phone died at an inopportune time.  Now I don’t even have any charisma left to flirt with the people who are in front of my face.  Energy is never lost, people, only misplaced.  Don’t misplace your precious energy on Tinder.


#3:  Dick Pics and “Career” Don’t Mix:  Just trust me when I say there’s nothing worse than having to find a new job because you fell in love with the 24 year old who sits across from you, and it didn’t work out.  Who could have possibly seen that coming?  You walk into your new work space energized and ready to start fresh.  You sit down at your new desk!  This is a new start for you.  You take a deep breath, and think of all the success you will have at your new place of work.  Your boss walks over and says, “Tricia this is Michael.  He is our most Senior Account Manager with a track record for success.  He’s going to take you through training this week.”  You lock eyes with your most recent Tinder match, turn all shades of red, and wonder if you should just quit on the spot.  “He also has a track record for sending unsolicited dick pics,” you want to say, but you refrain.  This is your new life.  This is your chance to start fresh.  Trying to remain focused while you get trained by the 32 year old you right swiped, who sent you a terrible picture of his penis is impossible.  At least I know why he’s so driven to find success at work, but I’ll never fully respect him.


#2:  Quality vs Quantity:  “Aaron, I’m completely over John.  Like completely.  Like 100% over it.  Look.  Just look at my Tinder folder.  There’s thousands of guys who want to sleep with me.  Look at all of these matches.”  Aaron grabs my phone and enters into the first profile of my first match, and as I catch his eyebrow raise I’m scrambling for an appropriate response:  


“It’s not the most flattering angle, but I think he has a great sense of humor!  It looks like he’s a really hard worker!  And you know that cleaning is not my forte!  Plus, HE right swiped ME.”

“Babe, the way it works is you both need to right swipe each other.  I’m just saying you might want to be a bit more selective if you want to find someone of quality.  Again, this one here…” I watch as Aaron navigates to my next match:


“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous Aaron!  He’s an animal lover who has a passion for hand-crafted Kentucky bourbon whiskey.  We are legitimately a match made in heaven. Plus, I think I could provide him some recommendations for that nipple hair.”

“Baaaaaaabe, you’re being verrrrrrrry open minded.  Honestly, so open minded that it’s scaring me.  I wouldn’t even let these people pay to blow me.  Lets work on getting some basic criteria nailed down for future right swipes.  You want quality – NOT QUANTITY.”


#1: There’s No App To Heal A Broken Heart:  So over 1,000 people in the city of Boston would fuck me this month.  Neat.  None of them know anything about me besides how mediocre I look in a mega-filtered instagram photo taken by a gay to capture my greatest angle at my thinnest.  While I’m busy making judgements on men based on the ratio of hair on their nipples vs. their head.  It’s not a glamorous lifestyle, and 99% of these tools wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise if we were to ever meet in real life anyway.  

Let’s just get real honest about why most of us are on Tinder:  we just want a quick fix for our broken and/or black hearts.  Someone to want us.  Someone to fill the time.  Someone who can perform oral sex for hours without rest.  Someone who will make us feel better about ourselves, even if just for a short amount of time.  I think I’ve finally reached the point where lowering my standards enough to engage in this game has become exhausting, and definitely not a worthwhile investment of my precious time.  

Don’t be fooled:  There is no amount of successful, matching, right swipes that will heal the pain of a broken heart.  Trust me; I’ve tried.

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