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49 Chatham, NY Man


I’m looking for

  • Women
  • Ages 25–65
  • Near me
  • For new friends, long-term dating, short-term dating

My details

Last online
Mar 27
6′ 0″ (1.83m)
Body type
Strictly anything
Atheism, and very serious about it
Graduated from university
Less than $20,000
Open relationship
Strictly non-monogamous
Has kids
Likes dogs and has cats
English (Fluently), Other (Poorly)

Similar Users

My self-summary
Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
Studying to be a ventriloquist. Making my own figures. (They're no dummies.)

I'm sweet and adorable. Yeah, I know, blah blah blah.....I'm sure you've all heard it before.

Down with heteronormative hegemony! Down with camels.

And I love ASMR.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
Making inanimate objects talk. They want to sing out loud, actually!

These days I'm losing a lot of sleep over my next project. (My life is defined by "projects.") We bought a big lovely house for cheap and I'm gonna be hanging rock, laying floors, plumbing the hell out of it, etc. But no wiring. That I leave for the pros.

Tending my garden, reading, watching, learning, listening, wondering, thinking, rearing (when it comes to my kids anyway).
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
Speaking through others. Nah, strike that.

Empathy, finding solutions, making you comfortable, cooking, baking, out-patient surgery (license or no license, it doesn't matter), building things and having great, if impractical, ideas.
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
I come with a friend. And I'm just a bubbling cauldron of enthusiasm.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
Once I discovered college radio (thank you WMUA & WAMH) in Jr. High School, nothing was ever the same. (Similarly, once I discovered hallucinogens, nothing was ever quite the same) I still remember listening to Kraftwerk late one night with the headphones on and just being blown away! Since synth-pop was in vogue at the time, that was my first fave. Don't worry, it didn't last all that long (just long enough to alienate me from my friends and convince me to get the hell out of my small town). Garage rock, punk, NY noise, krautrock all quickly followed.

I've taken long, but necessary, detours to the Lands of Jazz, Blues, Electronica, wimpy-ass folk music and, unabashedly, American Popular Standards. (Frank Sinatra - the Mick Jaggar of the 40s & 50s. How many boys were led astray by Jeri Southern, I couldn't tell ya!)

At a certain point, however, I started noticing that for many of the new bands, all I could say about them is "they sound like early Dead Boys," or, "this reminds me of John Spencer." I started listening to older and older music and ended up way way back. To the place where Blues, Jazz and Country were one (RnR didn't even exist yet, by that name anyway). We're talking Jimmie Rogers, Carter Family, young Louis Armstrong and on and on. This was new (to me)! This was something I'd never heard before and it was damned exciting. (Kind of like listening to Kraftwerk lo those many years ago).

Where am at now? All over the map. It's hard to pin down. And, needless to say, since I was in the NYC metro area, WFMU had a lot to do with so very much.

But what about Glam rock, Skinny Puppy, the Runaways, Phil (to his friends) Glass, Betty Boo, ELO and Frampton? Oh, god, don't get me started on them, please.

There, I've done it. I've gone on and on about music and never once mentioned Townes van Zandt or Gram Parsons. (Oops!)

I am Poncho and Lefty.

I'll read either fiction or non-fiction. (Yup, one or the other.) I'll read current fiction for a month or two. Then inexplicably switch to non-fiction for awhile.

Currently, I'm reading _The Great Degeneration: How Institutions Decay and Economies Die_ by Niall Ferguson and _Guns of August_ by B. Tuchman.

I recently got a laptop with a DVD player and I'm re-acquainting myself with film. (I really haven't seem much film for years and years and even then, it was very sporadic.) So I'm methodically starting, arbitrarily, with the January 1, 2001 issue of the New Yorker and watching every worthwhile film released. (Hey, I exhibit my OCD behaviour some way.)
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
Whatever they may be, I try to treat all that's around me and in my life as if I couldn't do without them.
More specifically, and in no particular order,

1/books and movies. I hope never to be too incapacitated to read, hold, comprehend or simply be fully engaged with a book.
2/conversation & dialogue. Why have knowledge and/or wisdom (or people with knowledge & wisdom in your life) if you can't share it. Why have people in your life if you can't learn from them?
3/hedonistic pleasure. Because sometimes conversation and dialogue alone just can't express what needs to be expressed.
4/art. And by art, I mean the art of just about anything - words, sounds, light reflecting off inanimate objects, thoughts that make people laugh & think, subversive ideas, the art of living a deliberate life and so on and so forth.
5/curiosity. What? Well, you know...go figure it out for yourself.
6/vigor. Laziness has no place in my life or in the life of people I care about.

Of course, it goes without saying, my collar & leash.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
Daily, I spend an inordinate amount of time on what I can make for lunch & dinner.

More generally, eliminating the usual, embracing the unexpected, living purposefully, making room for chaos, and certainly *not* wondering what'll come next but, instead, letting what comes next just happen and wash over me.

Leaving my comfort zone.

I wonder why my friends don't follow each and every one of my suggestions (diktats, really), thereby solving all their problems.

I wonder why the martini glass is so damn impractical. I mean, for such a simple drink (no filler whatsoever), why does it require a glass that just begs to have the precious nectar spilled, thereby ruining your best suede leisure suit?

And, why the hell there is such a non-thing as a vodka martini!

And when will I be invited to enjoy a gimlet with someone special. Or a lime rickey?

Where is Maybelline in her Coupe DeVille?

And why when my cats enter a room they have to announce themselves with a little meow. Or how to tell them that *one* more belly rub doesn't require that they tear my forearm to shreds.
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
Hanging out with my girlfriend besameotravez after a week of extreme, though exciting, debauchery.
Or with someone for some exciting debauchery.
Or being made up with by my girlfriend for her week of debauchery.

Needing someone to throw my bail.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
That my social security number is 107-23-5119 and that I once went a whole year speaking in nothing but iambic pentameter.
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
You're looking for hiking partner on the Long Trail next year.