This of course leads to the question of who lives next door to me.
My lovely boyfriend NKeats and I are a hyphenated unit, albeit an open one, and we're both game to hang out with interesting humans/cyborgs/sea sponges. That said, though, we do have ground rules. Try to reconfigure our relationship at your own risk.
In the Italian renaissance, the term "sprezzatura" was used for a kind of studied courtly nonchalance, giving the appearance of exerting no effort when really, doing just the opposite. I've never been good at that.
I fucking hate small talk, banality, and sexists. I'm an ugly, gawky kid at heart who's still astounded that she can use her boobs for evil, much less good. I may look like Zooey Deschanel, but beneath this vintage dress beat the hearts of Missy Elliott and ODB.
Just because I listed "interested in casual sex" on my profile does NOT mean that I want it with you. I'm picky as hell. Haters gon' hate. And by haters, I mean desperate, ignorant, ugly sexists with no grasp of spelling or grammar. Sorry I'm not sorry. If you hit me with a neg, or a boring line and are lucky enough to get a response from me, it's likely because I'll make you wish your protozoan-brained self had never been born. Stupid people need not apply.