After surfing a billion personals profiles, I've determined most people are smoking crack. Therefore, my profile...
You should only message me if you are into casual hookups and playing games, and your asshole ungrateful kids come dead last in your life. Because you know unlike other women, just because you bang some guy you picked up in a bar, got married, and pooped up a couple of rugrats... that's not going to be your life's crowning achievement. At least, I should hope not! Any stray dog can fuck. And your kids aren't going to be Nobel prize winners. The world is way overpopulated; stop breeding, you morons!~
Also, preferable, you believe in some made up rubbish god because you have a wishy washy feeling about it. All you have to do is ask, hey god, are you there, and when no one at all fucking answers, ever, strengthen your faith that he is just testing you and you are not, in fact, bone fucking stupid.
But don't sweat it, in heaven, everything is fine...
By night, I am the weapon that will destroy the state. A simple libertine anarchist, with simple tastes, who enjoys the simple things in life... like open sedition and violent revolution. As an anarchist, I destroy pecking orders and bogus authority. I stab your alpha male like an assassin and plunge your kingdom back into raw freedom and gorgeous chaos. Your god does not exist, and your country is nothing more than a bunch of murderous thugs with guns and radios. Look it up.
Are you an anarchist? You probably are...
Fall down the rabbit hole. You could do worse! Many married women have!
( . .)♥
I also moonlight as the stunt double for the Ax Body Wash commercials, and play in the hardcore rock band "50 caliber Fist FK" at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, as lead didgeridoo player. "Whenever life, get's you down, Misses Brown... just remember! Your standing on a planet that's evolving and revolving at nine hundred million miles an hour!"
Yeah, I know, an artistic type, that gets you hot and bothered! Is it hot in here? Someone throw a glass of water in my face. Yeah. That completed me. Hit me again.
By day, I'm just your ordinary run of the milll über mad scientist witch doctor, shark trainer @ PetSmart, video game designer, trash dump truck driver, pinup girl / vintage nudes / boudoir photographer, panhandling street musician, moonlighting mortician, combat helicopter pilot, baby sitter, shrunken head distributor, and youtube video editor... (think Fletch)
...more talented than your estranged weird fraternal twin kid brother Philmore who was banished at the age of five for intentionally writing run on sentences like this one, and for unspeakable acts against vegtebles with cabbage patch dolls. Remember, the one you set up and framed, so you could have all the toys to yourself? You got him good, didn't you, you conniving b***h! Couldn't wait until you started dating me, like all the rest, you had to start early!
I can change the windshield wiper fluid in your car *and* roll back the odometer, not to mention, change the VIN with a belt grinder. The same belt grinder you use to take off your makeup!
Shhh, *looks around*, I will tell you a Zohan secret agent state secret. Don't mess with the Zohan. No, that's not it. I am building the worlds most powerful squishy computer in my basement. I call it my 9 cat brain neural net hyper transcendental computer, a TI-89 pocket calculator with more smarts than your electronic washing machine dryer combo, to explore the totally bogus 'Many Worlds' theory. Look it up on Wikipedia, geek girl!
I feed it catnip graham crackers instead of WW2 era punch cards (the Nutella spread I put on them kind of gunks things up tho), and while my multi cat brained computer dreams, I dance in my spider man underwear in front of a mirror and sing "I wanna grow old with you" like Adam Sandler. Sometimes I ask it questions. Like, will I ever find true love. Sometimes it meows at me. Will you meow at me? I might meow back.
If you are standing right there, does it make you uncomfortable if I undress your dog with my eyes? How about your grandpa? Myself? I am undressing myself with my eyes! No, you are! Stop it! Village harlot!
If we get milkshakes, I call dibs on your cherry. But if we go anywhere, you must help me carry my backpacks full of mouse traps, because if my 9 cat brained computer is right, the future is full of mice. A post apocalyptic bladerunner world is right around the corner, so repent, all you sinners, all of you are a heathen self absorbed lot that spend way too much time staring back at yourself in the vanity mirror that is your myspace profile!
Every guy has a secret agenda, and my secret agenda is to defrag the hell out of your harddrive, and tease your hair for added height and volume. Girl, you know you got non-sequential sectors going on, AND split ends!
People always put the cliche here... what are you doing with your life... "Enjoying it". I'm not enjoying it. Life is one big shit stew. Reject life! I didn't ask for this. I got yanked out of the happy ether of non-existence and thrown onto this planet of the apes. I sure hope there's intelligent life in space, because there's buggerall down here on Earth. Do you know what buggerall is? Stop wasting your time playing Farmville, look it up on Uncyclopedia, geek girl! Oh wait, its not there, guess you'll have to crack your knuckles at the keyboard and write the entry yourself. Just like I reached into your purse and wrote that blank check out to myself, to do anything I wanted to your beautiful oh so kissable face.
Employment. In real life *wtf is that?* I'm an game designer, and I just got hired into a team as a female gamer girl software developer for a Sci Fi game (Battlestar something or another) based on a hella popular cable miniseries. I don't know jack shit about the show, so I'm crunching through the wikis. Finally, off the food stamps!
Secrets of the Men Who Live as Dolls...
You're probably wondering, how the hell does that work, me, a female game designer? Two words: voice morphing software, biatches! Ok, that's three words. Makes me sound exactly like a teenage girl. Life is fucked up. I win by rewriting the rules to the game in my favor. Your chastity stands not a chance!
Well, ok, I might actually put on a girls wig. but only under one condition, to fool the specatators, if I were flying my own acrobatic biplane as a daredevil badass girl pilot. Cause guys HATE getting shot down by girls!
Or, for those who like getting sprayed with Faygo Sticky cola... the Dating Website For Fans Of Insane Clown Posse
My strategy for driving women crazy... I love to take female UPS drivers out on dates, and make nothing but left turns.
I don't drink or smoke. I am only smoking when I'm on fire. Smoking is icky, and drinking always feels like cheating. Unless it's yummy, in which case I will occasionally ask you to let me to taste your thighs. Also, I don't eat puppies.
I am attracted to all sorts of girls, like your grandmother and your sister, and prefer intelligence and sense of humor over bust size. Unless your boobs are like really huge, in which case, I won't stop staring at them. In fact, I will brag about them to all my friends down at the local beer hall.
I want someone who is confident about the stuff she understands, and interested in the blowing up of the things she doesn't.
"Animal Farm" & "1984", George Orwell
"Prairie Fire", The Weathermen
"Addicted to War: Why the U.S. Can't stop Militarism"
"No Treason: The Constitution of No Authority", Lysander Spooner
"Civil Disobedience", Henry David Thoreau
The Onion / News Network, Collegehumor, Adultswim, Southpark, illwillpress, Gnooze
With a broom and a power screwdriver, however, I can clean and repair your world.
Also, if you have those huge dangling earrings, that is a big plus! And do you know how to fire an M60 belt fed weapon and field strip it, all while eating a grill cheese sandwich? In summation, if you can see glow in the dark people when you squeeze your eyes shut real tight, well, you don't need me to entertain you. But if you can't, well, write me a love note and slide it under the door while I'm in the bathroom on the potty.
Razors pain you, rivers are damp
Acid stains you, drugs cause cramps
Gun aren't lawful, nooses give
Gas smells awful, you might as well live!!!!!!
Speaking of potties... if you ate glitter, would you poop glittery poop? You ponder that, while I swipe your virgin credit card through this little machine here. Here, hold this big screen LCD HD TV for me while I do it. Don't be concerned, its just a social lubricant bizarre custom on this planet. Ok, we're good, lets jet!
Usually I like to kill time window shopping other peoples personals profiles. I find female profiles incredibly priggish, self absorbed, and boring. I mean, wow. An ocean of them start out in the worst possible way by lying outright and saying "I'm not looking for sex, one night stands, or booty calls" and then go on to list they have X children living with them, with the father nowhere to be found anymore. Ok, really, there must be a lot of fucking immaculate conception going on out there with all you virgin saints.
Why not start off being flat dead honest and saying you love sex. All women love the hell out of sex. It's in your biological programming, to breed and reproduce. Duh! Kept the species alive, too, albeit on a downward spiral of an increasing idiotocracy because of your piss poor choice in life mates. If you're so damn good at picking mates, where are all your ex-boyfriends and ex-husbands now? Because you really weren't being all that choosy, were you, you were just enjoying some sex with an idiot guy that couldn't control his load and blew his wad in you!
And whom you called your children, and who you now claim are the number one things in your life, your pride and joy and biggest accomplishment, and come first before everything else. Wow. If that's your biggest accomplishment in life, breeding, that's pretty damn sad. Got some Nobel peace prize winners in the lot, did you now?
I cry to the movie Le Fabuleux Destin d' Amelie Poulan. Well, I cry to a lot of heart and gut wrenching stuff, my grandmother was a very emotional woman. Damn this being an empath.
I want to make love to you. Like right now. Indian princess. In the forest. With the squirrels and a deer watching. Disneyishque. Then we can ride away on an Invisible Pink Unicorn into the sunset.
Invisible Pink Unicorns are beings of great spiritual power. We know this because they are capable of being invisible and pink at the same time. Like all religions, the Faith of the Invisible Pink Unicorns is based upon both logic and faith. We have faith that they are pink; we logically know that they are invisible because we can't see them
You should like ice cream truck chasing in springtime (very sexy if you bark like me), psychotic leprechauns, and cheezy midi video game music. But you shouldn't be ugly either. Or male. Or a zombie dragon, powerful in life, unstoppable in death.
We can go snipe hunting, wife swapping, or illegal street racing. Or you can tell me about some really good play/band/stripper which we go see. Or we can just meet up for coffee. Or better yet, coffee ice-cream.
Conclusion. Naked stick figures are fun. You should email me. I like ice-cream, but not puppy flavored ice cream. Quit smacking your gums with anticipation. And I don't care how fast we are going, if I die, I'm going to heaven with you. Move aside, dummy, I'm going in first!
Maybe you're not going to heaven, hum, I am a matchbook church priest, tell me your sins. Make some new ones with me. I take you home to Republic of Bunnzakhstan to meet my mother and other prostitutes of the village.
Like a man ape, I poke dead tigers with sticks to make sure they are truly dead, and get way too excited about it. In the final analysis, I'm just a part of the alienated withdrawn from society Hikikomori humanity on this rock in space like everyone else, a neanderthal girl trapped in a man's body dragging her butt in the sand having her period. Write it on my tombstone. Fuck reincarnation. I'm not coming back!
Until then, I content myself with planting wildflower seeds by the sides of highways... no way in hell I'm dating any of you! Two world wars have convinced me, human beings just do NOT get along together. Ya'll got issues.
If you want to know what I am like in real life, instead of all that BULLSHIT above, think the landlord "Stanley Roper," from the sitcom "Three's Company".... remember, Jack, Janet, Krissy? Now I'm talking about Mister Roper, not Mister Furley (the scatter brained Don Knots), so don't get them confused.
My personality can be summed up in the brief crystaline moment, when horny old Mrs. Roper, who ain't getting any and is more than ready to let you know she's not getting any from Stanley, say's something about Jack insinuating that he's gay, and Mister Roper gets a zinger in there, and I mean a total zinger, and looks right out at the camera at you with that look. Yeah, that's me. I am so Mister Roper. I live for zingers, and man do I nail them! Life is nothing but one big goddamn zinger, and I'm going to nail this bitch every chance I get (and I don't mean Mrs. Roper!)
Want to know what to write me? Hello Kitty, or My Little Pony. Answer me now, dammit! Which one, and justify why, for stickers on my assault rifle. You *will* be graded on this.
Otherwise, go away, you bore me already. Your vagina is not that valuable. Really, its not. If I wanted to fuck a big empty space, there's a thousand idiots out there I could skull fuck!
Earthy heady passionate sex, should not be the desert in a relationship, it's a side salad!. I'll take mine with croutons. Unless of course you're still in college. Then hell, its the main course! I graduated in that shit!
Woo, woo, woo, woo, Curly! Who let the dogs, out, who, who!
I don't know, really, I'm asking, who let the dogs out. Wasn't me. Because they are running amuck in the street. Chasing cats and getting into wars with UPS van front tires, and losing. I fly like paper get high like planes... if you catch me at the border I got Visas in my name.
I thought I'd end this with you being completely perplexed, as I lift your wallet. Wait a minute, there's nothing in here. God damn it!
I don't need this dumpy little backwater dating site. I write hot earty mind blowing erotica that gets me all the ladies on Fetlife and CollarMe... but who has time for that... I'm out to change the world...!
When I'm with you, I feel naked and sacred, and this world can be so cold. I want to hold you naked, and sacred until I grow old... what does love mean, can love last? I ask myself, these questions... haunted by the past...
TinyURL for my profile: http://tinyurl.com/ogqnqa3
Time to say goodbye....
Put this cat on
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