Enough about that, let’s talk about me (just makes me think of L7). When I was in grad school (pure mathematics, sorry I didn’t finish) I’d sit there in a class, looking like the big, rumpled long-haired stoner that I, in fact, was. Then the professor would call on me, I’d answer, and people would turn to look at me as though the performing bear had gotten off its bicycle, taken off the tutu, and begun to speak. I am very good with the pure maths, my favorites are Graph and Knot Theories, and various Discrete subjects.
I’m also a fairly skilled artist, check me out on Deviant Art, I’m joefuckingjudd. In fact, perhaps the best way to understand my mind is to know that Da Vinci was my first hero, it explains a lot about me.
I’m the big burly biker-looking dude who loves math and science and art and history and animals and science fiction and punk rock. In high school I used to move pianos and woodstoves and, hence was strong enough that even the asshole jocks thought twice before fucking with me without sufficient numbers on their side. They wanted me to play football but I wouldn’t, I hate sports. I’d rather read T.S. Eliot and take acid and make out with girls. I haven’t changed much in that regard.
I’ve tended to have fairly solid secondary relationships rather than a series of random hookups and, while I’m not necessarily looking for the former right now, and not averse to the latter under the right circumstances, what I’d really like to do is meet cool people (okay fine, cute girls), go to punk-rock shows and museums, and hang out for hours talking about books and music and quantum physics and Ancient Rome and other random weird shit. If that becomes something more, cool. If not, I’ll have added to my circle of weirdo friends, and that in and of itself is worth an awful lot.