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endorphin77

37 Los Angeles, CA Man

Man

I’m looking for

  • Women
  • Ages 21–49
  • Near me
  • Who are single
  • For short-term dating, casual sex

My Details

Last Online
Online now!
Orientation
Straight
Ethnicity
White
Height
5′ 11″ (1.80m)
Body Type
Average
Diet
Mostly anything
Smokes
When drinking
Drinks
Socially
Drugs
Sometimes
Religion
Agnosticism, but not too serious about it
Sign
Cancer, but it doesn’t matter
Education
Graduated from university
Job
Art / Music / Writing
Income
$20,000–$30,000
Relationship Status
Single
Relationship Type
Offspring
Doesn’t want kids
Pets
Likes dogs and dislikes cats
Speaks
English (Fluently)

Similar Users

My self-summary
Write a little about yourself. Just a paragraph will do.
I'm a thinking man's thinking man. I'm not sure what giving into fate means. Does that mean you give up your skepticism and just hope fate exists? Without fate, life wouldn't be as is. Why do I keep bouncing into these reoccurring people? Do they need to be there? And is that fate or coincidence? Coincidences have no meaning. To consider meaning is to consider fate. What fate is there to running into an acquaintance in, say, Seattle? I knew him in Los Angeles, and now he happens to show up in my limited universe? I could find meaning in an encounter as if we were destined to be together, or I could pass off the encounter as coincidence.
There was a similar incident in New York two years ago. My best friend and I were walking in Brooklyn when we noticed an acquaintance from Hollywood, a fellow musician. I wasn't a musician but my friend was.
"Aren't you the keyboardist? Kenny Casio and the Yamahas?"
Sure enough, he was. He was touring New York clubs and he so happened to be gallivanting across the street at the same time on the same day. If my friend were having a spacing fit then he might've missed him, but that would've never occurred anyway. Because of fate. After losing touch for two years, Kenny Casio and my friend reconnected. A year later my friend shot a music video for Kenny and posted it on the major social networking sites. Only if the reunion brought a collaboration of recorded albums and concert dates, well then that would've deserved a documentary.
What I’m doing with my life
Don’t overthink this one; tell us what you’re doing day-to-day.
My friend is made of magic. He follows magic and thus magic follows him. Most other people don't chase magic. Either they're unconscious, they're afraid or they don't care. Magic is subtle and in turn ubiquitous, never flashing in neon. Magic waits like a rare Beatles album that no one knows exists, in a particular record store and in a particular milk crate, among a thick stack of vintage records. I do believe in a sixth sense that tells someone that something is out there of which he's been searching for. Except he isn't aware. His mundane activities slowly bring him to that moment of discovery. Even if a failed Internet search brings no results, he's still gravitating toward his possession.
I’m really good at
Go on, brag a little (or a lot). We won’t judge.
I say this because of experience. I've found rare gems of which I had been seeking for a long time. For example, I happened to find a rare cassette in a used record store in Fayetteville, North Carolina of all places--not exactly a Graceland for rare music. Nevertheless I had been wanting that cassette for over three months, quite sure that it would've never been found, unless I were in New York where the independent label distributed the album locally. But there it was on a shelf in Fayetteville, a few miles from the barracks at Fort Bragg. Just one copy, too. I was convinced it was the only copy in the world. From then I have held that cassette; it is still a favorite of mine. I wasn't actively seeking the cassette, but the wish remained in my subconscious. This may sound ridiculous, but perhaps the whole reason I had decided to visit my shitty friend in the military for a whole week in muggy Fayetteville was to discover that rarity.
You could also claim coincidence.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I’m an empty essay… fill me out!
I have no tattoo. I should stretch more often. Never had a pet. Never read a Harry Potter book.
And I still get spankings.
I look forward to meeting you.
You should message me if
Offer a few tips to help matches win you over.
your pictures deviate from surfing or hiking or standing atop a mountain or smooching a killer whale. Otherwise, I will press SKIP. I'm not fooled. Reality is not Sea World. Never was. Nor is it Mount Baldy; Moscow; an everlasting week at Burning Man or a free lunch with a European ambassador. Save me the facade. Just give me boredom at a television, looking sexy as hell, and I'll be interested.

And, please, this is very important, I prefer your face missing. A shot of your legs and feet in front of an ocean will have me begging for your attention. The back of your head is fine, too.
Also, message me if you only have one pic of yourself. And make sure it is an establishing shot of you far far away.
(I'm especially turned on by a woman who never bothered to write a bio).
TTYL.
;)

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