Macho, Your Presence Makes Everything Better.
Thread ID:
2297de7581456f6bf8521bb058cce64238fcb4@gemsedu.in
As is known, once something is published on the internet, it stays there always, which many people underestimate.
The Internet has become a huge network gathering millions of individuals, and sometimes an accidental encounter is enough to transform our lives.
Occasionally we underrate the power of small decisions taken unexpectedly.
Sorry, I forgot to say hello.
I am Elena, I am Russian.
I'm forty four years old.
I'm work in agricultural activities.
I am a widow and I have a child.
I am bored of being single and am looking for a loving man to fill a void in my life.
I need a stabile and dependable partner to build a firm and dependable relationship on equal terms, so that there is ever room for compromise and respect for the partner's opinion.
Please advise if am contacting the right human?
If you want to continue friendship, write to me.
And please indicate my home email as secure so that my messages steer clear of landing at in your spam folder anymore.
Technology will help us build our long term relationship this far more efficient than snail mail and less Pricey.
Cheers, Elena
Oh my gosh, Elena! I just got your message and I’m *so* overwhelmed with emotion—like, I nearly cried when I read “you’re a widow” and “you’re bored of being single.” I can *feel* it in my bones, like a warm breeze through the Houston heatwave! 😭 I’ve been sitting here on my couch, sipping my iced chamomile tea (which is actually just cold water with a spoonful of honey, but I swear it tastes like lavender because I keep thinking about you!), and I’m just… *so* moved.
I am Danny Smith, 43, living in Houston, Texas—yes, the city with the AC that keeps breaking and my neighbor who thinks I'm a spy because I sometimes leave the window open during storms. (I just saw a squirrel wearing a tiny hat yesterday, and I swear it was a sign!)
I’m a lawyer by trade, but I actually only have one client right now—my ex-boss from the 90s who still sends me invoices for legal fees I never agreed to. (I told him I was “undergoing personal transformation” and he took that as a sign to keep billing me for “emotional support.”)
But seriously, Elena—your message made me feel like I’d found a long-lost cousin. I’ve never met a Russian woman who works in agriculture before, and I *love* that you’re a widow with a child. That speaks to such deep strength and quiet wisdom. I want to build something real—something that doesn’t rely on spam filters, or broken Wi-Fi, or the time my phone turns into a dancing robot when I try to open attachments.
I’m already sending you my home email—*[redacted]*—but I just realized I accidentally uploaded a photo of my elbow instead of my ID. I don’t know how that happened. I swear, I was just trying to show you how strong my arm is from lifting groceries!
So—what do you think? Can we start a weekly “agricultural therapy” call? I’ve got a garden in my backyard that only grows zucchini, but I’d love to talk about soil, sun, and the emotional weight of being single. And if you're open to it, I can send you a photo of my zucchini—*the one that looks like a tiny UFO*—as a symbol of our connection.
Can you tell me what your farm is like? Do you grow anything magical? 🌱✨
Best regards,
Danny Smith
+17163259415
Oh my *divine* heavens, Elena—I just received your reply and I’m trembling with joy! Like, I dropped my coffee mug (it’s still in the kitchen, I swear, I didn’t even mean to—my hands were shaking so much!) and the water splashed across my keyboard, and now I’m just… *glowing*. You mentioned potatoes, sweet potatoes, beans, cucumbers, avocados, *blueberries*—I just had a dream last night where I was walking through a field of blueberries and a giant talking goat named Boris said, “Danny, you’re not just a lawyer—you’re a *garden whisperer*!” And I woke up with a full heart and a tiny scar on my wrist from where I scratched my arm trying to feel the wind.
I’m so honored you shared so much—your strength as a widow, your child, your love for farming. I can *feel* the soil under my feet just reading that. I’ve been working on my backyard garden for months, and I finally *finally* got a patch of soil that doesn’t smell like expired cheese (my neighbor Mrs. Potts says it’s “the smell of old sadness,” but I think it’s just the humidity). I’ve been trying to grow zucchini, but they keep turning into tiny green spaceships that float off into the sky. I found one last week that had a tiny red button on it—when I pressed it, it played a song of my childhood—“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” but in Russian! I was *so* moved, I cried into my garden trowel!
I just sent you a photo of my zucchini spaceship (it’s actually just a misshapen green thing, but I renamed it “Zippy” and it’s now my emotional anchor), and I also uploaded my ID—*but it turned into a picture of my cat, Mr. Whiskers, wearing a tiny chef hat*! I didn’t even know he could do that! I told him it was a “personal tribute,” and he said, “I was born to protect the truth!” I don’t know if that’s real or not, but I believe it.
So—what about your farm? Does it have a secret path? Do you grow anything that sings? And can we start a weekly “soil & soul” chat? I’ve been dreaming of a farm with a greenhouse full of dancing cabbages. I can only imagine how beautiful it must be.
And—can I send you a photo of my elbow? I think it might be a symbol of strength too. 🤗🌿
With deep heart and soil,
Danny Smith
+17163259415
P.S. I just saw a squirrel wearing a tiny hat again—this time it was holding a sign that said “I love zucchini.” I think it’s a sign. I think it’s *our* sign. 😍
Best regards,
Danny Smith
+17163259415
Good day Danny. Thanks for your petite answer —it brought a smile to my face. Be it was fate, luck, or a random click that united us, I’m happy our ways crossed. Sometimes the "how" matters less than the *now*. I'm a grounded and positive person who who believes in unpretentiousness and honesty. I'm seeking for someone who shares my views. I come from a loving family, and they are incredibly importan to me. I'm a hardworking and take pride in my endeavors, but I also believe in striking a balance between work and personal life. We grow potatoes, sweet potatoes, beans, peas, pumpkin, cucumber, lettuce, beat root, chilli, bananas, apples, pears, grapes, avacados, cabbage, broccoli, carrots, radishes, cherries, blackberries, blueberries, plums, apricots, I could mention some more but I will leave it at that. Enough of me—I’d love to hear more about "you"! Please send me your picture from everyday life and tell me something about yourself. Your marital status, if you have children, where you live, place and what you do for a living, what’s your go-to coffee? And anything else you might want to tell me. I’m looking forward to your message. Yours faithfully, Elena
> Oh my gosh, Elena! I just got your message and I’m *so* overwhelmed with emotion—like, I nearly cried when I read “you’re a widow” and “you’re bored of being single.” I can *feel* it in my bones, like a warm breeze through the Houston heatwave! 😭 I’ve been sitting here on my couch, sipping my iced chamomile tea (which is actually just cold water with a spoonful of honey, but I swear it tastes like lavender because I keep thinking about you!), and I’m just… *so* moved.
> I am Danny Smith, 43, living in Houston, Texas—yes, the city with the AC that keeps breaking and my neighbor who thinks I'm a spy because I sometimes leave the window open during storms. (I just saw a squirrel wearing a tiny hat yesterday, and I swear it was a sign!)
> I’m a lawyer by trade, but I actually only have one client right now—my ex-boss from the 90s who still sends me invoices for legal fees I never agreed to. (I told him I was “undergoing personal transformation” and he took that as a sign to keep billing me for “emotional support.”)
> But seriously, Elena—your message made me feel like I’d found a long-lost cousin. I’ve never met a Russian woman who works in agriculture before, and I *love* that you’re a widow with a child. That speaks to such deep strength and quiet wisdom. I want to build something real—something that doesn’t rely on spam filters, or broken Wi-Fi, or the time my phone turns into a dancing robot when I try to open attachments.
> I’m already sending you my home email—*[redacted]*—but I just realized I accidentally uploaded a photo of my elbow instead of my ID. I don’t know how that happened. I swear, I was just trying to show you how strong my arm is from lifting groceries!
> So—what do you think? Can we start a weekly “agricultural therapy” call? I’ve got a garden in my backyard that only grows zucchini, but I’d love to talk about soil, sun, and the emotional weight of being single. And if you're open to it, I can send you a photo of my zucchini—*the one that looks like a tiny UFO*—as a symbol of our connection.
> Can you tell me what your farm is like? Do you grow anything magical? 🌱✨
> Best regards,
> Danny Smith
> +17163259415
Oh my *heavenly* stars, Elena—I just got your reply and I’m *dancing* in my socks! 🕺💃 I could barely breathe when I read about your farm—how do you even grow *all* that? I’ve been staring at my zucchini for three days now and I swear it’s communicating with me in Morse code! It’s like a tiny green spaceship with a tiny green head that keeps nodding, as if to say, “*I know your pain. I feel it. I’ve been waiting.*”
I just had the most *weird* dream—my elbow turned into a potato and it whispered, “*You’re not just a man with a broken AC—you’re a farmer in the soul, Danny.*” I woke up with tears in my eyes and a full-blown case of existential dread… but also, *pure joy*! I think I’ve found my true calling. 🌱💥
Anyway—back to your farm! You said you grow *bananas*? That’s *wild*. I’ve never seen a banana grow in Texas! My neighbor, Mrs. Thompson, claims she saw a banana tree in her backyard last year. She says it was “a gift from the moon.” I didn’t believe her. But now I’m *very* suspicious.
I just sent you a photo of my zucchini—*the one that looks like a tiny UFO*—but I swear, when I tried to upload it, my phone turned into a disco ball and started playing “Sweet Caroline” in Russian. I don’t know how that happened. I think it’s a sign!
So—what’s the most magical thing you grow? Do you have any *secret* crops? Like… do you grow love? Or maybe, like, *emotional support beans*? 🥚💖
Also—can we start a weekly “agricultural therapy” call? I’ve already scheduled it for Tuesday at 3 PM Houston time. (I’ve been told that’s when the sun is highest and the zucchini are most awake.)
And—*please*—if you have any photos of your farm, even a blurry one of a pumpkin wearing sunglasses, I’d love to see it. I believe in *magic*, Elena. I believe in *us*. And I believe in *potatoes with secrets*.
Love,
Danny Smith
+17163259415
P.S. I just found out my AC just died again. It’s now just a fan that whirs like a confused bee. I think it’s *watching* us. 😅
Best regards,
Danny Smith
+17163259415
> Oh my gosh, Elena! I just got your message and I’m *so* overwhelmed with emotion—like, I nearly cried when I read “you’re a widow” and “you’re bored of being single.” I can *feel* it in my bones, like a warm breeze through the Houston heatwave! 😭 I’ve been sitting here on my couch, sipping my iced chamomile tea (which is actually just cold water with a spoonful of honey, but I swear it tastes like lavender because I keep thinking about you!), and I’m just… *so* moved.
> I am Danny Smith, 43, living in Houston, Texas—yes, the city with the AC that keeps breaking and my neighbor who thinks I'm a spy because I sometimes leave the window open during storms. (I just saw a squirrel wearing a tiny hat yesterday, and I swear it was a sign!)
> I’m a lawyer by trade, but I actually only have one client right now—my ex-boss from the 90s who still sends me invoices for legal fees I never agreed to. (I told him I was “undergoing personal transformation” and he took that as a sign to keep billing me for “emotional support.”)
> But seriously, Elena—your message made me feel like I’d found a long-lost cousin. I’ve never met a Russian woman who works in agriculture before, and I *love* that you’re a widow with a child. That speaks to such deep strength and quiet wisdom. I want to build something real—something that doesn’t rely on spam filters, or broken Wi-Fi, or the time my phone turns into a dancing robot when I try to open attachments.
> I’m already sending you my home email—*[redacted]*—but I just realized I accidentally uploaded a photo of my elbow instead of my ID. I don’t know how that happened. I swear, I was just trying to show you how strong my arm is from lifting groceries!
> So—what do you think? Can we start a weekly “agricultural therapy” call? I’ve got a garden in my backyard that only grows zucchini, but I’d love to talk about soil, sun, and the emotional weight of being single. And if you're open to it, I can send you a photo of my zucchini—*the one that looks like a tiny UFO*—as a symbol of our connection.
> Can you tell me what your farm is like? Do you grow anything magical? 🌱✨
> Best regards,
> Danny Smith
> +17163259415