Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
Rene Descartes walks into a bar. Bartender says "Would you like a
drink?" Descartes says "I think not" and disappears.
Woman walks into a bar. "What'll you have?" says the bartender. "An
entendre," says the woman. "Make it a double." So he gave it to
Gone to seed journalist falls on hard times, seeks beautiful Gypsy
girl to pine over--I am Quasimodo. Be my Esmeralda?
I have a recent diagnosis of a rheumatoid inflammatory condition.
Thus I am unlikely to accompany you on any marathons. I will
happily cheer you on, and be waiting at the finish line with a nice
beverage for you as well as a big towel to wrap you in.
But I am not defined by my maladies. Just being up-front.
I've discovered that I miss being able to put my arms around
someone. As that eminent philosopher Dave Attell has observed, men
and women are a lot alike in certain situations. Like when they're
both on fire - they're exactly alike.
A certain lack of delicate sensibilities is something I enjoy...in
everyone. People are too offended by words and not offended enough
I want to hang out with women who still think fart jokes are funny
but also appreciate foreign films and French food. Women who are
offended by war. Women who realize that Rush Limbaugh and Sarah
Palin are idiots, and don't try to make excuses for them by blaming
the "mainstream media".
Or more to the point, one woman. You?
I like movies very much, and music. I play several instruments
badly. Art is important to me, although I am more likely to look at
an unusual piece and think it is cool than stroke my beard and use
words like "zeitgeist" to describe it. I don't apologize for this;
there's nothing wrong with liking a piece of art because it looks
cool. Just ask H.R. Giger.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
It's taken time but I am slowly letting go of the notion that I
will ever be in journalism again. Trying to eat healthier. And
naps. Naps are good.
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
Writing. Cooking. Making people laugh. Once in a while getting a
really great photograph. Check these out (copy and paste the URLs
into your browser):
The first things people usually notice about me
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
That I make a handy portable shade on sunny days. I am a large
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Help your potential matches find common interests.
Books: William Gibson. Neal Stephenson is on my list too. Sarah
Vowell. Hunter S. Thompson, of course (R.I.P., Doc), and Ken Kesey
(Hail to the chief). Kerouac too.
Movies: Anything directed by Stanley Kubrick, Terry Gilliam, Alex
Proyas, and Akira Kurosawa; or starring Shintaro Katsu, Tony Jaa,
Steven Chow or Chow-Yun Fat. I am also obsessed with Louise Brooks,
the silent film star.
TV Shows: Iron Chef. Top Gear. Warner Brothers cartoons (preferably
pre-1950--Daffy Duck was hilarious in those days, before they made
him Bugs Bunny's punching bag).
Music: Loud and nasty. I have seen Slayer nine times (huh? Speak
up!). On the other hand I also like Willie Nelson. And the older I
get, the more I appreciate the genius of Tom Waits.
The six things I could never do without
Think outside the box. Sometimes the little things can say a lot.
A guitar, even though I suck at it.
Something to read.
Diet colas. I'm not monogamous with this. Pepsi, Coke, any of the
various permutations of either.
Mount Rainier. I lived in a place where I could only see it on
really clear days for a long time; back in the valley now and
loving the view.
My car. My old Camaro, my mid-life crisis car, recently died. Now I
am driving a giant old Lincoln Town Car that is sort of a living
room on wheels. It's like a 210-horsepower Barcalounger.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Global warming, lunch, or your next vacation… it’s all fair game.
where to go next. How I got here. Where you are, and if I will ever
find you. I've thought I found you before, but I was mistaken.
Being right for a change would be amazing.
On a typical Friday night I am
Netflix and takeout, or getting your party on — how do you let loose?
Eatin' Cheetos on a beanbag chair in the basement. OK, not totally
true. There is no beanbag chair or indeed even a basement.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
I like Spam. And I own four Beanie Babies, all of which were gifts
from my mother.
You should message me if
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