Today's match is brought to you by the letter "C" and the numerical concept of "zero"...which is exactly how many emails I'm going to send to this guy.
If you read the previous post, then you know right away that Genius here probably got into the oxycontin and several cans of frosting and apparently was told to do all sorts of stuff. I'm just wondering if it was Betty Crocker or Poppin' Fresh. That doughboy can be shifty.
So you've got OC on your forehead. Orange County? One challenge? (Clearly you're facing more than that.) O, cats? That would explain the tiger stripes on your jawline. Kind of. Really nothing can explain that. And the star....can guys be "basic"? I think that's about the most basic tattoo you can get, Rum Tum Tugger. Unless the star stands for "say can you" in which case I give you props for being patriotic.
And what exactly is going on below the neck? Was your tattoo artist a toddler? Or having a seizure? And there's another damn star next to that cave drawing of a bison or whatever it is. If I squint, your chest kind of looks like something in the style of Chagall. But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that is probably just a fortunate coincidence.
So, in summary, we are not a match. I don't care if you're a neurosurgeon or poet laureate, this isn't happening. Only Polynesian warriors should have that many, er, any tattoos on the face. The Rock can have tattoos like that. Mike Tyson is a poor decision maker. Based on your fair skin and hair, you fall in with Tyson. Not a good lifemate quality. Besides, I'm allergic to cats.
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