Every time I try to fill this out, I feel like I'm writing an ad for a used car on Craigslist. "Like new! Properly-maintained! Handles well! etc." I'm not really keen on trying to hock myself, I suppose.

I've got my flaws. We've all got our flaws. I'd like to try to make sense of this world, this life, but I'm too astonished, too perplexed by the simple fact that all of this is even real, is even happening -- and I'm experiencing it -- to do anything about it. So, instead, I just try to be happy. And have fun. And enjoy the simple things -- human connections, coffee, backpacking, literature, banter, cigarettes, cityscapes, debauchery, dogs, rock and roll and so on and so on.

Meandering around the globe, teaching and learning, trying to keep my head screwed on, writing when the lightning strikes, revising when the storm has cleared, searching for the Kerouacian 'It'.

Causing cacophony, turning a quirky phrase, losing my mind and finding it the strangest places, keeping up a quick-witted, astutely-considered conversation on Camus and men's shampoo.

The freckles around my eyes.

Books: Still Life with Woodpecker by Tom Robbins, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce, On the Road by Jack Kerouac.

Movies: The Big Lebowski, Memento, Fight Club, Midnight in Paris, Amelie, Adaptation.

Shows: Breaking Bad, Californication, Bored to Death, No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain.

Food: Indian food. Mexican food. Anything gut-gnawing, soul-stripping spicy.

My passport.
My journal.
Dogs.
Words.
Banter.
Friendship and family.

Various business ideas (though I've never been an entrepreneur. Yet.) My latest half-baked idea: A men's barbershop slash pub. It'll be called "Buzz Cuts".

Causing trouble. Looking for the most blessed banter this holy planet has to offer.

You've got a sparkle of charm in ya.