I'm a peach.

This is pretty profound question.

People watching. I am an excellent passenger on road trips. I bring snacks. One time I drew a picture of a tree and a girl I know got it tattooed to her arm. Most people would feel flattered I guess, but the permanency of it makes me feel like a megalomaniac. Accidentally giving people therapy sessions. Forgetting that people don't know I'm joking. Making indecipherable funny faces.

The most utilized pick up line from strangers on the street seems to be "Smile." I have a natural tendency to appear sad, but when I do smile which is fairly often I have cheeks that people seem to want to pinch. My mother says we were decedents of Eskimos, but she likes to make up stories.

I read a lot. Leaves of Grass, Catcher in the Rye, Welcome to the Monkey House, the Ginger Man, and Everything is Illuminated were books I remember reading at important times in my life. The user name I have on here is from Ginsberg's Howl. "with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls," which is more or less the best line of poetry ever... Except for a few Cohen lines... Maybe...

I do also own a kindle. So if that's a deal breaker...

Trainspotting and City of God. Amelie like most other girls. Documentaries. Seriously. Recommend me a documentary. (But not the Tribe Called Quest doc. That was like the Cosby show of documentaries.)

The It Crowd, and Mad Men.

Howlin Wolf. Arcade Fire. Otis Redding. Etc. etc.

A book, my brothers, fresh air, access to a beach, a long hot shower, and my dog

I've been thinking about how quiver is a weird word and why I would want to be matched with it.

I've had a couple of neat conversations lately about how when you reach a certain age men become kids in candy stores bombarded by aggressive younger women and how my lack of aggression and youth directly correlates to the number of cats in my future. I'm up to one. Fortunately as the internet reminds me almost daily there is a plethora of eager married men looking to cheat should I ever decide to be ridiculously masochistic.

Why I don't have more Twitter followers: https://twitter.com/ohhbollocks

Living the dream. Where ever that may take me.

Or you know. Scouring the dating adds on here: http://www.meet-an-inmate.com/

I've been on unemployment for about a month which is a really weird experience since I have been working at least one job since I was 15 years old. But the days kind of all run into each other now. I've become more annoyed at Friday nights because everything is crowded.

Before that I did good things for a living. Sometimes I'd have to go into projects and crack houses. I've been also spending a lot of time thinking if it's time to try to sell out. And also how one even does that.

For a long time I wanted to live my life like Paul Gauguin, and give up everything to paint naked Tahitian women on a beach until I died of syphilis. I hear syphilis is curable now though.

(No I don't have it.)

And sometimes I'm lonely.

I live in the ghetto section of the city. And I kind of love it.

I once bailed someone out of jail.

I don't drive. I'm not sure I ever want to.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I look like Robert Smith from the cure. I laugh every time.

Every year on my birthday I try to spend the day in my underwear day time drinking eating a taco bell because I can't really think of a better way to spend a birthday. It never works out.

On any given day, I'll joke about porn, or my tits, or other ominous things in casual conversation and think nothing of it. I don't have one of those filter things. Which is annoying because it's terribly Philadelphian of me. See also: being a good drinker and able to eat a copious amount of grease if the occasion ever calls for it.

I have a pretty gnarly scar on my forehead from being punched by a schizophrenic on the subway.

I used to have a pet lobster named Francois. He might have been a crawfish, but I told him he was a lobster to feed his ego. In a defeat of biblical proportions, he was eaten by two feeder goldfish.

I'm kind of at a point on my life where I'm ready for a nice boring stable relationship. It's just seems like nice normal and boring isn't ready for me.

Sometimes I jokingly tell people the giant squid and whale tattoo on my back is a mark of the ocean because i really want meet a pirate and/or sailor and live a life of the sea. When I do this, I am only half joking though. Because... Come on... That sounds awesome.

Yea i don't know. I guess a lot of things aren't that private to me. Whatever. Open book.

You're interesting, and quirky, and you like to go to the zoo. And you think brunch is pretty great.

You aren't looking for a manic pixie dream girl. Or still in love with your ex.

You're not a dj or all into MMA fighting.

You don't go anywhere on this list: http://m.complex.com/city-guide/2012/06/the-25-douchiest-bars-in-philadelphia/xfinity-live

You have more of a Ulysses complex then a Peter Pan complex.

You like animals. Since I have two and stuff. They're both pretty great.

You don't go on five or six dates in a week with people from this website. And you're over the point where you feel the need to go out every single night.

Back in the old Myspace days when they asked who you wanted to meet, for years I had "Someone who will give me a lapdance to God Save the Queen while wearing union jack underwear." So you know... message me if you have union jack underwear...

Also sometimes I get busy and stop replying to people on here. Sorry. Actually I'm kind of a bitch. You probably shouldn't message me at all. We'd probably just spend like five hours getting to know each other to be nice and never see each other again. I'm terribly disappointing. Really. Ask around. Also feel free to add me on Facebook if you want to see far less flattering pictures.

I'm just kidding. Alcohol fixes all that.
And most of the time I'm cool as shit.