Tinder is a strange beast.

I’ve only recently downloaded it, and have begun shamelessly browsing the female users within a 50-mile radius of me. I’ve heard good things. One of my best friends met his current girlfriend through Tinder, and others have told me that you can engage in meaningless hookups through it. I’m into both of these things. I’ll take whatever comes my way. Ideally, one will lead to the other.

The other day, I was Gchatting with my friend Kim Wyndyka, and she told me she was writing an essay for Lady Clever on questions she had when browsing Tinder. We agreed that strange questions abound while you’re swiping left and right, judging people more often than not on one photo they have chosen to represent themselves to complete strangers, some of whom are probably axe murderers.

So I decided to document some of the questions and thoughts I had while browsing Tinder for 20 minutes. Because who needs to be original!

• Which girl in this picture is the one who owns this account? I find it hard to believe that any woman using Tinder doesn’t have at least one photograph of just her, by herself. Like, why would you feel the need to make someone try and guess which of you among your friend or group of friends is you? Do you expect a dude to click on your profile and browse through all of your pictures in hopes that he’ll find you? I don’t have time for that—my girlfriend will be home soon. And what if you’re not the best-looking one in your picture? And then the dude is off in search of the girl in the blue top? Just…why wouldn’t you just take a solo picture? At this point I don’t even care if it’s a selfie.
• How long does it take to perfect the angle in which a female feels she is looking her best?
• How often do dudes set up dates on here and then bail when they show up and realize they have been misled by some smart phone photography trickery?
• Do professional photographers log onto Tinder and Instagram and worry that someday soon they will be all but completely irrelevant? I bet Terry Richardson is trying to get all of the facials he can in while the gettin’s good.
• Speaking of Instagram, why do all these broads post their Instagram handle on here? If I want to see photos of a bunch of self-obsessed women who want attention, I’ll just log onto The Chive.
• Now I’m wondering if I wore flannel and glasses like my dad wore all the time in the ’80s, would I be more successful with women? I just bought a camera I can carry around. That might help.
• Man, I am on a roll here. I just keep swiping left, swiping right, with zero f**ks to give. At this rate, I can check out approximately 40 women per minute. Swipe left, swipe left, OH MY GOD NO WHAT HAVE I DONE SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL AND I SWIPED LEFT! How do I go back? WE HAVE TO GO BACK!
• How do you go about starting a conversation with a person on this thing? What is the appropriate ice-breaker? “Hey. I like your face and stuff. And we’re both interested in Workaholics. Let’s make it happen.”
• Is this woman a mother? I mean, she kind of has to be, right? Nobody in their right mind who wasn’t a parent would post a picture with a child on here, would they? Everybody knows that completely scares off like 80 percent of the population, and the Tinder population yields an even higher percentage, I bet, because we’re just on here to judge people specifically on how they look in hopes it ends up in a blowey or something.
• Is this girl really 19 years old? How culpable am I if I meet up with her and it turns out she is actually only 17 but I didn’t know? Is there a proper way to ask her for ID or something? Wait—why am I even considering going out with a 19-year-old anyway? I’m 26! A very immature 26, but still! This app is bonkers.
• Is that my sister? Yep. That’s my sister. I’m deleting this app right now.