45 Toronto, Ontario, CA
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My self-summary
On hiatus: I'm too busy to deal with the slings and arrows of the online dating thing right now. And frankly, this whole process is kinda unpleasant, no? I got a message recently that simply said, "North Korea is waiting for you, you commie pig," shortly followed by another person writing, "Omg your writing is brilliant. Can i cum on your face?" (i had mixed emotions about that one. I mean, i liked the flattery - about the writing.)

That said, I love reading profiles. It's like rooting through someone's lingerie drawer with their tacit consent - and absence.

The one-line description: Gregarious misanthrope with a hippie rising. If that makes sense to you, we will probably get on just fine. That said, if you are of the tl;dr stripe, please direct yourself to tinder. It's for our mutual safety. G*d speed.

And onward:

I live in the Republic of Parkdale. I ride my bike or walk everywhere. Even in winter. When I stray outside of the west end, it usually involves a plane. I'm that breed of jerk.
( last year: NYC/HFX/MTL. Vegas/Aspen/England/India/Nepal/ New York again, Reno, Black Rock City/ Penn/ Ohio. New York, again/ France/ Israel: Palestine/ Jordan/ Italy. (Holy heck, writing that down, it seems like a lot. In truth, it was. Busy year. In related news, I'm exhausted, and in HFX, Tampa, Indianapolis, Ottawa, already this year. I'm not beach people but i think sitting on my ass doing nothing but read and eat in hippie/naked/gay old Zipolite is probably in the cards for March. )

Within the more domestic realms, I suspect that there are dragons north of Bloor/west of Roncey/east of Spadinaish.

Many, many dragons.

Suspicious of the whole dating thing - circling it warily like a bare knuckle fighter in an ad hoc ring. Looking for a relationship and while (respectful) casual is always possible. I'm wary of accidentally falling into the wrong thing. (Sometimes you have a "casual" thing and three years later you're staring at each other trying to figure out how the hell you ended up in that moment, locking gazes, filled with regret.) See, red flags don't matter when you're casually banging; you disregard them because you think, "Hey, I'm turning off the road soon anyway, it's not a problem."

But then you fall in love with the road and you've got a problem.

(I was wondering how far i could get with that metaphor without it becoming laboured. Too late. If I had gone one inch farther, there'd be folks in orange reflective vests, asphalt trucks, and many cars idling in stifling heat.)

NB: to see who has actually read the profile - just throw the word "shibboleth" - in the message. And let's say, um, an 80+ percent match to chat.

That's no guarantee for compatibility/interest but it's a pretty good conversational bedrock . It ALWAYS goes poorly when i head south of that number.
What I’m doing with my life
Selling my soul in a buyer's market.

Deleting messages from young guys. Hey, kids, get off my lawn. No, that's not a euphemism. Or it is? Whatever. Get off of that, too.

Also? I know yr mum. Run along.

TV producer/director/writer and occasional do-gooder. Trying to flip that around. I try to do no harm. I need to do better. I have done work with third sector groups (e.g.MSF ) in the past and am currently a part-time labour organizer /researcher- which is a lot like this

Was doing a doctorate in what turned out to be Basket Weaving for your Marxist Vagina, so now I'm a drop-out. I dropped out of high school so I guess I haven't changed much. That said, there were no Marxist vaginas in my high school. Or basket weaving. Not that I am aware of anyway. I dropped out of that school though, so what do I know? Maybe they were there, smoking by the shop class door.

PS: Despite what some people have thought of this last graph, this is not an indictment of the left. Nope. I'm a bike-riding pinko, to use a phrase from our former mayor/nemesis/municipal clown.
I’m really good at
Finding myself in unusual and sometimes unpleasant situations that transmogrify into great stories, spending as little time shopping as possible, injuring myself, missing my group meditation sits and yoga classes, making people laugh and being inconsistent in my use of the Oxford comma.

(I'm also great at forgetting to close parenthesis.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
As if this profile isn't long enough?

List available upon request.
The six things I could never do without
Stuff to read
Ayahuasca - or at least, the lessons it gives.
Some demanding physical activity.
Those (fleeting) moments of connection that make the scale of the universe seem manageable.
(i wasn't conflating these last two but you know. It happens sometimes.)
The *idea*of grace, if not the state.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
The perils of capitalism. My affection for untoward words that have power*. Dashing "erratic Marxist," economist and former Greek finance minster Yanis Varoufakis and how he's apparently married to an artist who was the inspiration for Pulp's Common People. Metcons. Mobility. How to be a decent person. Love. Sex. The twinning of the two. The location of my keys. How I managed to leave my fucking bag in a Trader Joe's in Tampa. Why I did that other stupid thing.

You know, stuff.

*See Tucker's Law.
On a typical Friday night I am

Okay, fine.

When I chose to update this (in Vegas) I had just finished interviewing a soldier with PTSD who likely killed his roommate but denied it, I held his sister in the hall as she flipped out and wept. Later, i ate string cheese while I worked on questions for the next day, and then I went out to stare at the glassy-eyed gamblers in the tattered 70s casino Circus Circus and wondered who among us had the greatest darkness in our souls.


Jks. I was at a bar, doing keg stands.

Which do you think sounds more plausible?
You should message me if
*If you're a mensch. Bookish. Left of centre, politically. Engaged in the world around you rather than evaluating it from a cool distance. A wide-smiling, wet-eyed, pessimistic optimist who likes making coffee while still half asleep (as i don't.)

*If you love this:

*You know that ghosting is both uncivilized and unnecessary. And you won't show up at 2 AM freaking out if i didn't respond to your emails in the time window you thought was appropriate. Could I just have something in the middle?

*BONUS ROUND: You are tall/athleticish. I tend to not be attracted to anyone who looks like they could be related to me by blood. Fair folk are lovely but I don't tend to fall for them. Tallish, dark and fetching. Not very original, I fear. This is the nonsense part of this, the gross consumerist part. The shopping. In truth, if i meet people in real life, my "type," is actually very elastic - it often takes the shape of the person I find really engaging. But in the absence of real world interactions, this crude stuff of meat and bone is more in play than usual. (How's that for a rationalized disclaimer; howyoulikemenow?)

BTW, if you dig Ayn Rand - we're done here. Seriously. I do love that she lived off the state in her dotage, however. That kills me. And I am adding Dbag Chopra to the list also.

Namaste, motherfuckers.
The light in me, etc.