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32 • Lebanon, MO • Man
I’m looking for
- Ages 18–45
- Located anywhere
- Who are single
- For new friends, long-term dating, short-term dating, casual sex
- Last online
- Online now!
- 5′ 11″ (1.80m)
- Body Type
- Strictly other
- Other, and laughing about it
- Leo, but it doesn’t matter
- Working on space camp
- Sales / Marketing
- Mostly monogamous
- Doesn’t have kids, but might want them
- Likes dogs
- English (Fluently), Spanish (Poorly)
My day-to-day: awake, be, do, fail, repeat. Awake, be, do, eliminate failure, fail again, repeat. Awake, be, do, succeed, fail, learn, repeat. Somewhere in all of this I check my e-mail. I succeed. I fail. I learn. I repeat.
Moving forward I will consider this:
I am myself somewhat verbose and I think that this arises from finding ones own inner verbness.
For so long we are taught to be static, clinging to the fabric of over washed chemically bleached-white society. We are turned, pressed and folded into nice constrained little nouns yet occasionally one of us refuses to be folded, says "fuck you"to the spin cycle of the social washing machine and with lint covered, stained and mis-matched fabrics decries "I am a verb" and a process is created and a living identity born on the laundry room floor.
It might not snuggle or be the ebb of tide we've all been taught to be and while it often fails for at least a moment we all baffle in wonder at the crumpled and unfolded shirt whose lines defy the limited noun based definition of comfort and complacency.
I don't really know what I'm good at. I hate ending a sentence in a preposition. That's going to drive me absolutely pink panther panties nuts...
Okay, anyway...moving on.
Sniffing himself without being conscious of the action he replies.
"It is me. I don't even know why I took that cadavers jacket, I was already wearing one."
She stares at him deeply with longing in her eyes. Moments pass as the tension rises to a frenzy between two interwoven and immortally connected souls.
"Can I have that jacket?" she asks, smiling seductively and never losing eye contact.
He meets her gaze right back. "No. Its mine, get your own dead guy jacket."
I'm such a nice boy when you look at me on the street. Thank-you ma'am and holding open doors for old ladies. I've even been known to perform volunteer work from time to time.
But it's a farce, a facade made of ice cream and sprinkles. I'm a self centered piece of human shit who revels in the cravings of others. I also like dogs.
Anywho, lets continue and see where this goes.
I'm not "down to earth," nor am I just a normal guy who likes to stay in and watch television. Truthfully, I want crazy, I want sexy in a way that makes the world stand on its tip-toes and yell out to God to take a look at this, dick in hand and laughing at the stars. I want real to be real, life to be true, the gloves to come off and the walls of Jericho to fall on their brick and mortar knees. I want laughter that makes you piss your pants in the middle of a 4 star restaurant, I want to be fucked until I can't stand. I want to love with a love that makes angels smile with awkward envy and sex so hot, rough, gentle and dirty that demons blush. I want to hold a woman under mist covered blankets and nuzzle my nose into the back of her neck while I secretly am elated by the smell of her sweet and salty skin, I want to open doors, be a gentleman, be the best lover you've ever had, be the milk in your Cheerios and the sugar in your coffee. I want something intangible, something I don't understand.
Beyond the rushing borders of sanity and normality I seek that which others shun. I want filth, I want love, I want society to judge, I want God to shake his head in disappointment and Satan to shuffle nervously on his knees.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I lead a small life. I'm not rich. I don't drive a cool car. I likely have little to offer. I'm sorry I'm not as good as everyone else. We are all so convinced of our inferiority masked by insecure false security.
Perhaps I will need a pointy stick but that is entirely relative to the climate and the availability of year round fruit producing trees. I suppose I could start some sort of agricultural plan but I am assuming I am all on my own here, and since I have no God like Pharoh to impress, I'm just going to run around naked and pick fruit. If I happen to get my hands on a really nice stick, I may try my hand at hunting easy to kill wildlife. And of course I'm still naked in this scenario.
Hmmm, I may also need a mate. Masturbating in a cave is going to get boring. Plus who is going to tell me how horrible I am at hunting, gathering, love making, intimacy, cleaning, kissing, hygiene and masturbating in my cave?
I may also need some clothing. Its cold inside the cave.
I need a lot of stuff. Surviving on only 6 items is more difficult than I initially imagined. Looking back at this, I may just let myself die. I'm really high maintenance.
Sometimes I have to stand in awe at my own dreams and wonder what the long term effects of psychotropic hallucinogens really entail. The following is for your consideration.
I awake to discover I am inhabiting the body of a small avian like alien on a bleak glacial carbon earth. I've arrived on another world in the midst of a great festival that has been placed on hold due to the arrival of my species and I apparently occupy the role of some sort of ambassador. Seeing that their festival has been interrupted and knowing the importance of embracing the rituals of other cultures during first contact, I take it upon myself to begin the festivities and forgo my own agenda.
I proceed to walk to the murky ice-capped ocean of this polluted beach and step into the nearly frozen tide. The water feels like shattered shards of polar glass ebbing and flowing over the surface of my avian frame and every step is agony. The purpose is to find animals in the water and catch them. The animals we are seeking here are unlike anything similar to the biology of other worlds. This world, being as carbon dense and polluted as it is, has created a biome of headless and mechanical looking creatures that are rust covered and slow moving. They are aggressive dangerous and exhausting to find though I inevitably succeed in securing a large gear structured beast. I return to the shore and collapse in exhaustion.
The inhabitants follow to the water and easily achieve what I struggled to accomplish. It's a humbling moment of first contact.
Beyond the beach there rests a compound of cold steel and thorns. The only way inside is to crawl through the thorns into a tiny door leading to the interior. I am a bloody mess by the time I enter.
Inside, the air is warm and it is by far the most acclimating environment yet. Then two women of great sexual beauty enter the room and everyone sits except for myself. I bow in humble worship and close my eyes. They approach me and proceed to touch my hands and this is where my mind reels. They have the sweetest and the softest most gentle caress of any person or being I've ever encountered and I am filled with what can only be described as pure love and want. Joy overflows throughout me as this simple act encompasses every loss I have ever suffered and removes and washes my mind free of all doubt.
My disappointment upon waking was immediate.
However..........For your amusement I have decided to tell you horribly embarrassing things about myself.
Every time I watch "Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey" I cry. When Sassy and Chance come over the hill and Shadow doesn't, I cry harder than a little girl who just discovered that unicorns eat puppies. Puppies make the horn shiny.
I am highly aroused by Gadget from the children's television cartoon show "Rescue Rangers."As a child, and not exactly a young child either, I would frequently fantasize about our mouse wedding...for whatever reason I became quite enamored by this female rodent. I think I like it when girls wear goggles.
I drool, constantly. I have to keep a small towel in my back pocket. It looks as though I have ass padding. I don't, its my drool rag.
More than once I have walked into walls trying to appear cool and aloof. I cry every time this happens.
I peed my pants in first grade. I told no one. I cried.
I was once kicked off the bus for forcing a girl to show me her panties. I would like to say I was a small child when this occurred. I wasn't. This happened in the last 90 days. The bus driver yelled at me and kicked me off the bus. I cried. Then uploaded the video I took on my iPhone to YouTube.
Ok, that last one was a lie. I don't have an iPhone....
I probably need an attorney.
You should message me. I wrote every word of this just so you could read it. I would hate to think you've wasted all this effort in reading this only to click away the endeavor of our collective efforts.
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