I like bacon, chocolate chip cookies, flat-front pants, crisp suits, unstarched shirts, cool shoes, art that fucks with my head, shiny cars, kites, the feel of my dog cuddled up against me, texting, Lagunitas IPA, Maker's manhattans, old Texas swing, Willie before he got lazy, homemade BBQ sauce, grilled broccoli, lemongrass, the light fixtures at Second Street Kitchen, smooth skin, salt water pools, composting, rain barrels, the small of a woman's back, long legs, large bar tabs, tipping well, the smell of frost, toast, cinnamon, active volcanoes and mocking Alex Jones' affected paranoia whenever possible.

I oppose condiments. Pickles are cucumbers soaked in evil.

Cowboy boots have magical powers.

In a long-term, poly relationship with shpurple75.

Spending it in Xanadu, where time stops and the magic never ends.

Building things. Texting. Words with Friends. Foreplay.

That I remind them of them someone. Or maybe it's that I'm Joss Whedon.

I listen to bands that haven't even formed yet. Besides them, there's:

Jack White
UNKLE
Wilco
Girlfriend in a Coma
Arcade Fire
Broken Social Scene
Jayhawks
MC5

Movies:
The most formative movie of my life is Citizen Kane.

Books:
David Sedaris. Hunter S. Thompson. Camus. Ron Carlson. Nate Silver. For the sake of all that is holy, don't say that Malcolm Gladwell is your favorite author or you will be appropriately shamed.

If I could just get my time machine out of the shop, I wouldn't need much else.

What to say in a note to someone on OKC and not sound like a jagoff/creeper/middle-aged hipster.

Conjugating (transitive and intransitive verbs).

I've never seen the Gangham style.

If you think you can beat me at Words with Friends. Or if you like tall guys. Or if you like riding on the back of a wave runner. Or if you like tennis. Or cupcakes. Or puppies eating cupcakes. Or if the voices tell you to.