Jesus Christ. If that last post weren't so funny it would be depressing. Really, Squanto? You're gonna go all first contact nostalgia wise old Indian on me? I am the Baby Dexter to your Grandma Moses.
In my rabbit-clutching defense, I'll say this: it is not easy to find your soulmate among the five eligible Indian candidates in this world. That's why you've got to find out absolutely everything about them available on the internet, in print, or accessible via public records search before you let them know that you're out there. You know? I think if my tipi creeping ancestors had Google, they would've been all over this shit. Maybe not. Maybe this is all commentary on a sad state of affairs in Indian country mating and dating circles. (No, I didn't list them in reverse chronological order.) Carefully-constructed mantraps are the new thing. And no, that's not some weird plastic surgery procedure.
