I fancy I'll open a stationers
Stock quaint notepads for weekend Pagans
While you were out at the Rollright Stones
I came and set fire to your shed
I am a fop dressed as an aging greebo. A feral cat in human form. A Snark, but occasionally a Boojum. A street poet and a pub philosopher. An incredible fucking showoff, to be completely honest with you.
My entire life has been based round the internal turmoil of not being able to decide whether I'd rather be a dodgy streetpunk or a Victorian rake. I seem to have dealt with it by turning into Raffles the Gentleman Thug.
I take an irrational dislike to a lot of people. But if I really like people, I like them a hell of a lot.
I'm a libertarian socialist with an overiding love for music. I'm a terrible intellectual elitist, with a danger of crossing the line into intellectual bullying in a bad mood. I should probably be ashamed of this, but my natural arrogance and skill at self-justification carries me through.
I'm the worst kind of geek, the countercultural geek. You know the type, we're the ones who argue at great length about how comics are a valid literary art form, make vague references to The Spectacle whenever the opportunity arises and have long passionate debates about whether Alan Moore would pwn Grant Morrison in a magical duel.
I'm also really grumpy about spelling and grammar. And don't even get me started on fucking text speak. I will tolerate memos written entirely in proper 1337. But only if you're William Gibson. Or possibly if, assuming I'm in a good mood, you can provide photographic evidence of the fact you're writing the memo while wearing mirrorshades.
None of that last paragraph counts if you manage to pass it off as hipster irony. (See my previous use of "pwn"). I'll forgive pretty much anything if you can pass it off as ironic. Apart from listening to bloody Kula Shaker. There are limits.
I also play RPGs, and again go for the pretentious ones like Unknown Armies and Ars Magica. And sneer at Magic the Gathering players. We hate most those who are like us but different... And no, I don't want to hear about your fucking 33rd level half-orc paladin/assassin.
I do, however live my life according to a fantasy novel. Gor? Don't be fucking stupid. I like to pretend I'm Zaphod Beeblebrox.
I like beautiful madness. I like the random indifference of the universe. I like kicking reality until it breaks, just because I can.
I like ideas and concepts more then the realisation of them.
You know that bit of my profile where I've checked "friends"? Strangely enough, I actually mean that. I like meeting new and interesting people. So I'm happy to be messaged by people who are not compatible with me for whatever reason. (Clashing sexualities, different relationship goals, not finding me sexually attractive). As opposed to it being code for "look! I'm all sensitive and shit. Will somebody suck my cock?".
I should possibly write something at least vaguely relationshipy here. Relationships with me have been described as "intense without being serious". That's probably pretty accurate. As it's a good one-line summary of my personality. I also once got told by a friend that I was much like "being friends with a hurricane". That's possibly the most awesome compliment I've ever received.
I'm also nonmonogamous. (This does not however mean I'm automatically part of your secret clubhouse if we have nothing else in common). While I'm aware of the issues surrounding defining myself by what I'm not, as opposed to what I am, it's the easiest solution I've found. Because I'm not really an ethical slut per se. I have no problem with the concept, but casual sex for its own sake isn't of interest to me personally. It's the whole 'intense' issue coming in again. On the other hand, I'm not really polyamorous either. Partly because I lean a bit too far towards the "let's sleep together because we both want to" concept. And partly because I don't put up lists of "relationship rules" on my fridge. With a tasteful parrot fridge magnet. And I have absolutely no interest in the mating habits of fucking Bonobo chimps.
Um, yeah, but I'm also really fucking busy at the moment, relationshipwise. As you may have noticed if you've tried to get hold of me. Mea culpa and that.
Actually, I have little idea what specifically I'm looking for. (Is that obvious?) That would require me to be able to grasp the concept of "future", which has never been my strong point.
None of this matters for new friends. And I will have read your profile if I message you. So if you're not nonmonogamous, I won't be planning a conversion attempt.
Oh, I'm also stupidly overly verbose. If you couldn't deal with that I suspect you wouldn't still be here.
Non plaudite. Modo pecuniam jacite.
I am one-dimensional, _, and _
Stock quaint notepads for weekend Pagans
While you were out at the Rollright Stones
I came and set fire to your shed
I am a fop dressed as an aging greebo. A feral cat in human form. A Snark, but occasionally a Boojum. A street poet and a pub philosopher. An incredible fucking showoff, to be completely honest with you.
My entire life has been based round the internal turmoil of not being able to decide whether I'd rather be a dodgy streetpunk or a Victorian rake. I seem to have dealt with it by turning into Raffles the Gentleman Thug.
I take an irrational dislike to a lot of people. But if I really like people, I like them a hell of a lot.
I'm a libertarian socialist with an overiding love for music. I'm a terrible intellectual elitist, with a danger of crossing the line into intellectual bullying in a bad mood. I should probably be ashamed of this, but my natural arrogance and skill at self-justification carries me through.
I'm the worst kind of geek, the countercultural geek. You know the type, we're the ones who argue at great length about how comics are a valid literary art form, make vague references to The Spectacle whenever the opportunity arises and have long passionate debates about whether Alan Moore would pwn Grant Morrison in a magical duel.
I'm also really grumpy about spelling and grammar. And don't even get me started on fucking text speak. I will tolerate memos written entirely in proper 1337. But only if you're William Gibson. Or possibly if, assuming I'm in a good mood, you can provide photographic evidence of the fact you're writing the memo while wearing mirrorshades.
None of that last paragraph counts if you manage to pass it off as hipster irony. (See my previous use of "pwn"). I'll forgive pretty much anything if you can pass it off as ironic. Apart from listening to bloody Kula Shaker. There are limits.
I also play RPGs, and again go for the pretentious ones like Unknown Armies and Ars Magica. And sneer at Magic the Gathering players. We hate most those who are like us but different... And no, I don't want to hear about your fucking 33rd level half-orc paladin/assassin.
I do, however live my life according to a fantasy novel. Gor? Don't be fucking stupid. I like to pretend I'm Zaphod Beeblebrox.
I like beautiful madness. I like the random indifference of the universe. I like kicking reality until it breaks, just because I can.
I like ideas and concepts more then the realisation of them.
You know that bit of my profile where I've checked "friends"? Strangely enough, I actually mean that. I like meeting new and interesting people. So I'm happy to be messaged by people who are not compatible with me for whatever reason. (Clashing sexualities, different relationship goals, not finding me sexually attractive). As opposed to it being code for "look! I'm all sensitive and shit. Will somebody suck my cock?".
I should possibly write something at least vaguely relationshipy here. Relationships with me have been described as "intense without being serious". That's probably pretty accurate. As it's a good one-line summary of my personality. I also once got told by a friend that I was much like "being friends with a hurricane". That's possibly the most awesome compliment I've ever received.
I'm also nonmonogamous. (This does not however mean I'm automatically part of your secret clubhouse if we have nothing else in common). While I'm aware of the issues surrounding defining myself by what I'm not, as opposed to what I am, it's the easiest solution I've found. Because I'm not really an ethical slut per se. I have no problem with the concept, but casual sex for its own sake isn't of interest to me personally. It's the whole 'intense' issue coming in again. On the other hand, I'm not really polyamorous either. Partly because I lean a bit too far towards the "let's sleep together because we both want to" concept. And partly because I don't put up lists of "relationship rules" on my fridge. With a tasteful parrot fridge magnet. And I have absolutely no interest in the mating habits of fucking Bonobo chimps.
Um, yeah, but I'm also really fucking busy at the moment, relationshipwise. As you may have noticed if you've tried to get hold of me. Mea culpa and that.
Actually, I have little idea what specifically I'm looking for. (Is that obvious?) That would require me to be able to grasp the concept of "future", which has never been my strong point.
None of this matters for new friends. And I will have read your profile if I message you. So if you're not nonmonogamous, I won't be planning a conversion attempt.
Oh, I'm also stupidly overly verbose. If you couldn't deal with that I suspect you wouldn't still be here.
Non plaudite. Modo pecuniam jacite.
I am one-dimensional, _, and _
