I'm a risible apology of a man; frighteningly ugly, offensively
ignorant, and sporting a nose like a sweet potato. I once heard of
colour co-ordination and fashion, but you wouldn't think that to
look at my wardrobe, and my passing acquaintance with personal
hygiene peaks at sticking my head under a cold tap.
Conversation with me is base, boorish, gynophobic, and mercifully
brief. I am a fundamentally offensive human being, and honestly I'm
probably the sort of man who'd send you a lewd message filled with
lurid and wildly optimistic obscenities regarding my hopes for a
future relationship. I would advise that women retreat from my
profile without further thought.
What I’m doing with my life
I am experimenting with a bewildering cocktail of medication, both
casual and formal. When that can't expunge me temporarily to
merciful oblivion, I write things down. It scarcely matters to me
what, and the resulting lunatic ramblings are the stuff of
I’m really good at
noticing when people misuse apostrophes, make fairly mundane
typographical errors, split infinitives, end sentences with
prepositions, and so on and so forth. I am also excellent at
listening to people without judging them, then publicising their
darkest secrets. My poetry has been described as "poetry in
motion", which is ironic since it's universally stationary.
The first things people usually notice about me
I assume the colour of my skin. That's what I first notice (and
comment on) with everyone else. Next, they will notice the uncommon
piercing glare I affix them with. This is not intended, and is
usually a side-effect of my bizarre eyes.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
My favourite one of any of these categories is the one I have
finished or seen most recently, about which I will bang on
I have never read, seen, heard or eaten most of what you like.
The six things I could never do without
I could scarcely do without my heart, lungs, brain, liver, pancreas
or oesophagus. I can take or leave my kidneys.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
I try to bypass the natural human instinct to think that I'm above
average, and attempt to truly understand on a fundamental level how
crap I am.
On a typical Friday night I am
Honestly I'm usually eating on a Friday night. I didn't mention my
corpulence before now, but it is absolutely breathtaking.
Vibrations roll majestically up and down my body with every step I
take, my grotesque sausage fingers pawing ineffectually at the
remnants of the bag of chips I always seem to have with me, despite
never visibly purchasing them or transporting any unopened
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Reading the rest of what I've written, I rather doubt you'd believe
whatever I put here. Nevertheless, I am actually quite a lonely
person and would be happy if someone contacted me.
You should message me if
your aversion to conventional notions of fun crosses into the
pathological. If you are out of your mind with apathy towards
honest, rational, hardworking men, you want to scare a solitary
idiot who literally fears breasts, or you want a deep and complete
understanding of the definition of "troglodyte", you have my
permission to message me.