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"I'm looking for my Chris ​Hemsworth." That's how I convinced my brother and his three friends, all in their mid-20s, to help me find a gentleman suitor on the dating app Bumble. I think they agreed just to have an excuse to talk shit about other dudes, but so be it, because it happened.

And it worked. Which is strange.
And it worked. Which is strange.

My brother (who has chosen to be known as Brother in text, but has a name that starts with A) and his crew (one of whom doesn't want his name publicized because he's a baby) consented to feed me lines to send to guys on Bumble. I even let them pick which ones I would grace with my their words.