I'll write more when I feel like it, this will be just a quick introduction. Okay, this progressed far beyond a typical quick intro - but take my word (or not) that it is a quick introduction (I'm a complex person, both good and bad). After all, how does one explain one's self articulately? Let's start with the outside...heavily tattooed, heavily pierced (only a few still in, however), physically fit (I take it to the point of obsession, but don't expect others to - just as long as someone isn't fat - ooh, did I hurt your feelings? Lay off the Doritos - and takes care of their person), reasonably attractive (or so I've been told, I don't spend a lot of time looking in the mirror), most comfortable in jeans and a shirt (can't get away with that at work, oh well...). Cops do U-turns if they see me with my arm hanging out the window (no shit - this happened yesterday on my way home from work). I've been told that I have the cheekbones of an angel (heh - if that person only knew that I've got three plates screwed into the bones of my face). It (the angelic part) doesn't show in pictures - I'm lucky if I don't have glaring red-eyes and a stupid grin. I'm German-Irish (with a bit of Cherokee, Welsh, Scottish, Portuguese, and English, but primarily German-Irish) and extremely proud of my heritage.
Moving on to the inside, let's take it from the top down. My brain functions best when I'm jacked out of my gourd on caffeine. I don't sleep a good deal. I probably don't think the same things as most people (I care more about concepts and ideals than I do the average person I encounter in my daily life - you must have a real bright spark in you to catch my attention). I have little patience, a long memory, and a bizarre sense of humor (gallows humor, I believe you'd call it). I can stare at a tree or a single blade of grass for fifteen minutes, and somehow feel better about the world. I go off on tangents, and my tangents have tangents. I'm brutally honest at times, but diplomatic and empathetic at others. People always comment about how surprised they are by my reactions, like a dog just solved a quantum physics problem. I think that every single person on this planet would be better off if they just realized that they're going to spend the rest of their life alone in their head, that no magic voice will pop up like a jack-in-the-box and all of a sudden everything will be fixed, that they'll discover that they're not alone and life makes sense. I'm weird and often a loner (I'd rather sleep in the same bed with my cat than most women - and don't get your hopes up, guys...I'm straight but not homophobic), yet I get along with a lot of people when I care to - but I'd still rather be reading a book and drinking Guinness than dealing with most people. I'm always looking for a challenge, a better way to do things, for something to do. I don't back down from anything or anyone (if you're looking for a guy who will back down from a fight because you're squeamish, you can stop reading now). I can have fun or be miserable wherever I am - it's not where you're at, it's where you're at in your head and your heart. I don't care if I'm shedding blood in a death metal mosh pit, reading a book, having dinner with my odd assortment of friends, spinning in circles at a rave (before the media ruined that), working, writing code, or whatever - life is a drink. Sometimes it's bitter, sometimes it's sweet. It's up to you whether appreciate it or not. I change moods frequently, but try to keep the fluctuation to myself if I think they'll hurt people I care about - unless it's the truth and they need (in my honest opinion, which isn't always right, but it's the only compass I have to go by) to hear it. I'm crazy but not insane. It takes extreme things (bungee jumping, nude golf on the side of a freeway w/ cars as "holes", etc.) to really get me to have a blast, sometimes. Other times I can just walk in the rain and feel myself dissolving into peace and pieces with every drop. I'm not all that good at explaining myself - maybe a friend of mine was right when he said I was more like an archetype than a human being. The bizarre part is that I was flattered by his statement.
Lower on down...heart and soul (we'll look at things from a Western perspective, m'kay?). I don't pretend to always understand my emotions, yet I use logic to puzzle them out. Or I just punch a wall (or the asshole that pissed me off) and then apply the logic. I can care deeply and passionately about things that other people find ridiculous or irrelevant. The few people that I do honestly care about and respect, I would gladly lay down my life for. Something feels warm inside when I see kids skateboarding, or a bum with a funny sign. I wake up in the morning shaking, cold and alone - and I'm okay with that. Good luck trying to break my heart.
And we're not going any lower than that...you can find that out for yourself if you want to. I'll give you a clue though - most of my piercings I still have in are below the neck.
Oh, and religion? I don't do organized religion *shudders*. I have my own quiet beliefs, which I don't give a tinker's damn if anyone else shares. I've seen too much atrocity/perversity at the hands of mobs of fanatics to do anything other than chamber a round when they get too close. My beliefs do not require anyone else to share them, plain and simple. I ask only the same in return.
Another clarification - I put "Sometimes" for Drugs because I'm so hyper that I take Xanax in order to be able to sleep and function (if I don't, then I have to drink myself to sleep, and I hate hangovers every day; I literally, if not "sedated", will sleep an average of 2 hours for every 48, and I become very disjointed - my tangents expand to the Nth degree, and I end up accomplishing nothing, even if I can think up the most unique, mind-bending concepts...what good do they do when I'm spinning off on another tangent 5 minutes later?), Soma for all the muscles I strain working out, and the only hallucinogen that I *don't* like is pot (despite the "Which Drug Are You?" test telling me I'm weed - just because I can chill out and drive to the beach - at night, no other time do I find the beach interesting...it's where dirt meets water, to quote the late and lamented Bill Hicks - while watching Aztecs build pyramids with the help of faeries and pulsing lights that I can taste through my windshield does not mean I'm a a laid-back type - I can just cope). I do not indulge regularly (it's been years, but I damn sure wouldn't turn down a bag of mushrooms or some acid on a Friday night either). And I occasionally consume some opiates (no habit, been there, done that, it's boring and pointless). If you can't hang with that, then move around, I'm not your man.
Ugh...this whole "explaining myself" thing is both annoying, odd, amusing, and enlightening at the same time. But I guess you really can't say "what's my bail and put me in a cell with a working phone" to a dating site, so I *do* have to explain myself. Plus I'm secretly having fun. *Sssshhh* - don't tell anyone.
Okay, I have to end the fun, because all good things come to end (the bad things seem to stretch on forever, which is why you have to learn the secret of suffering in silence in order to find your way to the heart of the matter, or the matter of the heart, for that matter ;p), so I will close this with a statement that I imagine you'll just shake your head at - I'm in the most unique, fucked-up, creative, destructive, dynamic, morbid, joyous, contradictory, logical, crazy, in-love-with-life person that you will most likely never meet.

Working. Reading. Writing. Looking for beauty in an ugly world. Waiting to die, wanting to live forever. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Give it a try some time - it's both the hardest and most beautiful combination of goals that I have found, and I've almost never taken the easy way out.

Maybe I'm half-way decent as a writer, maybe I'm not. But it sure beats the hell out of sitting here trying to justify or explain myself...

death as a lady
---------------
she talks about what I see
sometimes I think she might know
the pain is definitely in the voice
the cold wind blowing as a back current
and the ashen taste of liquor burns in my mouth
if I'm gone in the morning
what would you say to that?
we're promised nothing but this moment
not even our next breath
I'd spend it on a scream
if I thought anyone would even notice
instead I focus that chunk of ice in my chest
and that knot of rage in my gut
and hold tight to that breath
even if it might not come
it helps me to savor the moment
sometimes pain can be so fierce
that it becomes pleasure and I laugh
the folly of the world
irony in a bottle
I hear that brittle rattle of the bridge
as the the train comes for us
we were so proud
dancing with death in all her dark glory
pirouette with sweet emptiness
as we ran for our lives
the others shuddered
grateful for their continued existence
I laughed, pretty death invisible at my side
I wanted to touch her so bad
not the way that cowards and liars do
but as a lover
when she finally came unto me
it was with a sad smile and a lovely caress
she kissed my brow and left me here
alone again
I kept reaching for her hand, to draw her to me
and she keeps eluding my embrace
it will be that much sweeter when we do meet
I know that now
but I still wake shuddering in the night
reaching for the intangible
and will do so
until I am the same way
you living have broken my heart
thank you, may I have another?
it reminds me that when the agony comes
there will be a tender embrace
and I can only wonder
will her breath be as cold as I shall be?

Oh yeah, i'm pretty good with computer science, both theory and application (HPC in particular). I guess I'd have to be, since that's what I studied in college, and do for a living. Duh.
Pissing people off.
Sleeping through alarm clocks.
Getting thrown out of bars.
Rambling on endlessly.
Rambling through life.
Ignoring people with banal, predictable personalities.
Being fascinated with someone who can hold an intelligent, dynamic, and original conversation.

This profile just seems so boring to me, like I'm not saying enough, but simple words fail me when I am called upon to answer in them. So I'll just torture you with more poetry.

in the smallest things
------------------------
yesterday morning, shaking and junk sick, i watched a bee writhe in torment
incapacitated by the ants swarming all over it's body, slowly stripping away flesh
possibly spirit as well, who really knows
i don't
all i can tell you is that i felt a sense of peace and empathy, harsh as it may be
this morning, i saw another bee
dead
being consumed once again, and this time felt nothing
possibly because it was beyond pain, and i am not
or maybe because i wasn't shaking as bad or as pissed off
it's really open to debate, not that i would with you
i can handle that all alone, thank you very much
dead things can be beautiful, but only in the right light
generally twilight, and this was morn
so there was nothing exceptional to be observed, merely nature at work
and the only thing cruel was my lack of feeling, and the way i felt
yesterday
and all the days gone by
it's been so many years, you can see them in my face
eyes
the lines and twisted knuckles of my hands
the scars that i would like you to lick, to worship them
as i revere the act of self-destruction
at times
and smashing beautiful things, sacred cows, anything held up in false reverence
at others
well, there's not much to say to that, is there?
a sick mind and a precarious upbringing, but that was said fifty years ago
by a far wiser man than i
but, then again, aren't we all god's holy fools?
some of us are just more honest about it, more blatant in our sufferings and
longings
until we paint ourselves into that proverbial corner
and from there, my friend, there really is no return
you can't take back the years, even if they fade the scars
the memories still remain
and there are few of you that can bear to look at me, and almost none
when i bare all that i bear within
there is love among monsters, honor among thieves, and mercy amongst killers
this i know
but once you have entered that twilight realm
there really is no going back
i find humor in that so many strive to get where i am, and no one ever tells you
that the path disappears behind you
much as that insect was devoured by it's kindred, so are all the things you ever had
same as what has become of me
and all you are left with are ghosts, haunting impressions of the people and things you once loved
that maybe loved you in return
the occasional glimpse of what it was like back then, in the light
a flash of thought from your past life, perhaps brought on by a song, a leaf
falling in the wind
or a flower gently humming to you
because you don't lose your senses, only your self and your perceptions
become skewed
and you find yourself envying those that are beyond pain
yet fierce in your determination to not surrender
what little you have left

If you haven't stopped reading by now, there's either something wrong with you, or something right with you (in an "Atlas Shrugged" sort of way - though I'm essentially saying the same thing). If you're still reading, maybe I'll try being a nice guy for once (I've never been very good at it - just because you attempt something does not necessarily mean you succeed) and share something less grim :

sunshine on water
-----------------
heard about blood roses today
felt myself whisper your name
tears welled
for a second i remembered sunshine on the water
innocent lust, forgiveness, and redemption
we were in love
it was beautiful
you couldn't hate me at the time
i wonder what you think of me now
if you even do at all
they say no one forgets their first love
well, i never forget anything
even if i can't consciously remember it
there's always the sea of dreams
dragging those thorns through my soul
razorwire through my guts
i fucked up
at least that's what i think now
i let my anger poison something beautiful
i was petty
and now that i have the depth, there's nothing left
empty and deep
that's one of life's little ironies
take me out behind the shed
line up the firing squad
and all what i have to say is fuck you
see, the anger is still there
sometimes i feel there are more points to the compass
than anyone could imagine
an internal geography that makes the world a klein bottle
maybe that's spirituality
if so, tell me why i'm so cold
tell me why remembering sunshine on water and a beautiful girl
should hurt me so
tell me please
because i'm short on answers today
maybe long on the words
maybe i'm not so cold, because it does hurt
i should be grateful for that
what wonderful solace
sunshine on water
now i remember
blood roses on your couch
broken glass in my heart
immature prose for immature feelings, i suppose
but all things have an order of their own
a symmetry that cannot be denied
but i try
and fail

Okay, so I'm not so good at not being grim. I just get by on my good looks and natural charm (sarcasm alert). Maybe I should just revert to true form :

my favorite color is clear (ripoff)
--------------------------
i can remember being on the street
i must have been about fifteen, because i can remember the girl
she had the most beautiful grey hair, wore baggy pants
and these tight tops that could make your heart stop when you saw her in motion
neither one of us liked being home much
myself because the violence and anger got old
almost as old as our well-heeled neighbors
who never shouted or broke things
calling the fucking police to the house, someone went
and it was generally me
whether i had actually done a damn thing or not
i remember a good friend of mine having a girl in his high school class
who said she was scared for her life, because a crazy guy lived across the street
he went to juvenile last weekend, out of his own house
to think of it!
my friend, having a bit of inside knowledge, asked her where she lived
we stopped by there one day, just for kicks
she almost fainted when i kissed her hand and introduced myself
but who gives a fuck about her?
she's probably a bitter housewife or a neurotic telemarketer by now
and she damn sure didn't have anything on my angel
i think her name was rachel, i have a portrait of her somewhere
done by a much-missed friend, dennis, along with the lyrics to
my favorite color is clear
scrawled on the back of it
my angel didn't like to go home because her father was a preacher
and as goddamn hypocritical as that breed tends to be
that's all i'll say here
but she usually went home, i didn't
and i can remember eating at IHOP one night, with some friends
her and I didn't have the money for any food
but we were too goddamn proud to admit it, so we ate
and while our better-off friends smoked cigarettes and bullshitted
we went out into the parking lot and started spanging
for you straights, that means spare-changing
begging
as i wasn't getting high or selling dope at that point in time
for whatever dumb fucking reason
and we were broke and proud
determined to survive however the fuck we could
dignity intact
i was working myself up to robbing someone when this cat gave us a couple bucks
okay, fuck it, i'll still jack someone
then the dude came back a few minutes later
and gave us all the change in his car, must've been over ten dollars
didn't lecture us one bit, just told us to take care and be careful out there
and i lost the nerve, or maybe the will, to hurt someone
there was something in his kindness that struck deep
made me think for a minute
that some people are okay, in their own way
and you never know who or what someone is until you've been that proverbial mile
so we went back inside, and paid for our food
smoked our cigarettes
and we were golden for a moment or two

I should probably be putting these bits and pieces in my "journal", but, frankly, I don't care to keep one online at the moment. Besides, I am not one to hide my colors - I wear who and what I am (whatever that may be, a dear friend has used the term "sui generis" but I'm not sure that I'm worthy of it) proudly.
Okay, other things that I'm good at :
Cooking
Getting in trouble
Blowing stuff up
Making messes
Taking care of my pets
Sex
Being annoying
Persistence
Consuming large amounts of alcohol in short time periods
Being really nice to people I care about
Beating the fuck out of guys that piss me off
Anything that involves computers (duh)
Getting along with a broad range of people
Hating everyone
Contradicting myself

My tattoos. That's easy - most people pay attention to what you have the most of, or what is most strikingly vivid, whether it be "nice" clothes, beautiful eyes, big tits, or drinks at the bar. Well, I have my ink. Something that no one can take away from me, and I'll take to my grave. What can beat that?
Other than that, I'm not sure. A lot of people tend to avoid me, as I'm not "normal" (like anyone is - it's just that most of the population thinks they are...which says to me that they haven't given the question much, if any, thought). So I really don't talk to many people outside of work (friends don't count, as they're used to me, though I have had a few say things like "I respect you because you're honest and tell people straight-up" or "I dig you because you're chill and respectful, but when the shit hits the fan you're always down" - not exactly mind-blowing insights into my personality, but it's something to go by; I guess I'm one of those people who you either love or hate, there's not much middle ground in my personal relationships), and thus I have very little to go by, other than what I see them staring at.

Books - Far too many to list (no shit - when I move, pound for pound, I have more bookage than furniture or anything else). I have a tendency towards science fiction and fantasy (mostly dark fairy tales), but I'll read anything that has some intellectual weight to it. Recent favorites? Richard Kadrey's "Butcher Bird". Every single Neil Gaiman book. "The War Of The Flowers" by Tad Williams. Anything by Clive Barker, Ayn Rand, Michael Moorcock, or Bruce Sterling. "Hammerjack" by Marc Giller. "Shadowland" by Peter Straub. All-time favorite? William Gibson's "Neuromancer". Oh, and anything by Charles Bukowski. And computer science books, of course.
Movies - Blade Runner, Leaving Las Vegas, Barfly, Fight Club, Hellraiser, Bullet, Natural Born Killers, Moulin Rouge, Domino, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, Perry Farrell's Gift, The Wall, State Of Grace, House of A 1000 Corpses, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, American Gangster, American History X, Romper Stomper, Drugstore Cowboy, Oldboy, Requiem For A Dream, The Razor's Edge, Saw[0-2], SLC Punk, Snatch, Suburbia (the original, fuck the rip-off 90's movie), Boondock Saints, etc. etc.
Music (alphabetically, from glancing at XMMS) - Acid Bath, AFI, Agnostic Front, Ann Beretta, Aphrodite, Ataris, Atmosphere, AVAIL, Bill Hicks, Black Flag, Bleeding Through, Butthole Surfers, Chimaira, Concrete Blonde, Cradle of Filth, Crass, David Allen Coe, Deftones, The Descendants, Dismember, Dope, Dropkick Murphys, Garbage, Glassjaw, Hank Williams (all of them), Hemlock, Hole, IAMX, Ill.E.Gal, Inquisition, In Flames, Filth, Jane's Addiction, Joe Cocker, Johnny Cash, K's Choice, Kasey Chambers, Korn, Lamb Of God, Lords Of Acid, Marilyn Manson, Mazzy Star, Ministry, Morbid Angel, My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, Napalm Death, Nick Cave, NIN, Operation Ivy, Pantera, Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones, Sepultura, Sick Of It All, Siouxsie and The Banshees, Sisters Of Mercy, Skinny Puppy, Slayer, Slipknot, Social Distortion, Sonic Syndicate, Steve Earle, Strung Out, Sublime, Swingin' Utters, System Of A Down, The Cramps, The Cure, The Distillers, The Killers, The Misfits, The Pogues, The Smashing Pumpkins, The Agonist, The Velvet Underground, Tiger Army, Tool, Tori Amos, TSOL, Tupac, Vangelis, Violent Femmes, White Zombie...I didn't list all, just the ones I have a lot of...
BTW, I DO NOT WATCH TELEVISION - THERE'S A REASON IT'S CALLED "PROGRAMMING". So don't expect me to even remotely interested in any bullshit pop-culture icons and prefabricated spoon-fed brainwashing. Period.
Food - Anything. As long as it has a lot of protein and carbs. I don't eat cooked fish, but love sushi. Does booze count as food? In that case, whiskey (pref. Irish or Bourbon), vodka (the good stuff), and wine (quality, not quantity). No soda (yeah, sit on the couch and get fat, fuckers) or sweets.

Books, that's for certain. I always say "as long as I have my life and my freedom, everything else is incidental" - but I couldn't live without good stories. My honor, of course. A pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey are always nice, but I can get by without them. Hope and anger, those are fairly essential. I'm a pretty complex person, so explaining myself isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.
OH YEAH - AND MY PETS, GODDAMNIT...but I've had to do without them before, unfortunately, so you learn to cope. Actually, I think that's the measure of a person, how much they can do with how little. Until you've washed your socks in a toilet (well, the sink above the toilet, but it's the same goddamn water), I don't think you really understand how much pointless, useless shit you carry around with you (both in your head and on your person).

Everything. More than I can express in words. Drop a sufficient amount of LSD-25 and we'll talk about it. There's so much that I'd like to say, that I could say, that I'd say to the right (or wrong) person, that it's pointless to even start here. If you really want to know what I think about, message me. I'll respond if it's something reasonably intelligent.
Whether this profile is too blunt, grim, or what-have-you. Oh well...I'm not here (on this earth, not this site) to impress anyone or please everyone.

drunk. And no more or less misanthropic than any other night.
Seriously, no clue. I could be anywhere, I don't plan a lot when it comes to things like my weekends. If I'm having a crappy one, I generally get drunk enough that I pass out at a friend's house and then drag my sorry ass back home the next day. If things are going well, I might not get too drunk at all. It just depends.
Oh, what am I doing? Shit, who knows?

I fucked your mom. Last week. Sorry...want the pictures?
Well, I'm not sure that it was her, but the shots are pretty cool anyways.
*end humor check*
Seriously? Okay, try this one on for size - I'm something of a closet romantic. Not in a sappy, superficial sense, but in the broader sense that I really, truly, deeply care about some people, and try to live up to ideals of truth, honor, justice, and whatnot. It's not easy (and I'll be the first to tell you that I have failed many times in my life, which has only strengthened my resolve), but nothing worthwhile is. And I have the capacity to love someone as more than a friend (but don't expect me to jump into anything, even if I am looking for that "special someone" - which makes me wonder why I'm even on here). I've had and lost 3 long-term, incredibly intense relationships (including one engagement and one marriage) in my limited span of years (not to mention a lot of short relationships as well), and I have a hard time investing much feeling in someone who does not earn my respect and I find unique, attractive, irresistible, and intriguing...none of which are easy things to do. But once you have my attention and devotion, it's complete (not in a creepy, stalker way - I value independence and free will very highly, and respect others').

Message me if you want to talk to me (as a friend or more, it doesn't matter). If you don't, I don't care (well, okay, I do - just don't tell anyone). If you send me a half-way intelligent message I will be polite enough to respond honestly (even if it's just to say that I don't think we'll be a good fit or whatever) and politely.
Don't assume that because I browsed your profile and didn't write, that I wouldn't welcome a message from you. I might, or I might not. Feel free to write me if you so wish to. One can never have too many friends, or enemies. It keeps life interesting.
Oh, and since I list so many "don't"'s below, just read the "The Perfect Woman" journal post I put up recently (well, as of about 10PM CST, Feb 25, 2009). If that sounds anything like you, then grab me up. Please - I need someone to cook for (just kidding...mostly - I love to cook for friends, and the way to my heart is partly through *your* stomach). I might cough up blood in the morning and cuss like sailor, but I'm a fun person (well, if you're even close as twisted-off as I am - though I am looking for someone who is spontaneous, intelligent, quirky, positive - to offset my somewhat grim demeanor - without being annoying or airheaded, and beautiful - to me - in mind, body, and spirit).

You *shouldn't* message me if :
You don't read.
You don't exercise. And to clarify that, I mean seriously, and take care of yourself. Fifteen minutes at a gym twice a week does not count as exercise - I get more than that at work.
You don't like animals.
You think the word "normal" has any societal or interpersonal meaning beyond a hollow attribute that can be filled with any kind of drivel a social group invests in it.
You don't have the logical capacity to embrace contradictory statements and evaluate them.
You don't have a sense of humor. Well, a "I think Bill Hicks was the greatest comedian that ever lived" sense of humor. Brutally honest, dark, ironic, etc. etc. If you think "America's Funniest Home Videos" is funny, not only do you not have a sense of humor, you should also get out of the gene pool. The sooner, the better. Before you spawn another generation of morons just like yourself.
You've never thought about killing yourself, but then decided you wouldn't give the rest of the world the pleasure.
You've never been in a fight (well, that's sort of optional - more a temperament thing than anything else...I don't do well with women that aren't both strong-willed and intelligent enough to know that fighting - not physically - with their significant other is often pointless) .
You've never been arrested, or at least thrown out of a bar.
You've never contemplated whether quantum physics and acid are different paths to God's little joke on us shaved apes.
You think pride and humility cannot coexist in the same person at the same time.
You're too weak to face your own personal demons (read : drama queen).
You can't keep to your commitments.
You think honor and respect are outmoded concepts or a cover-up for arrogance and/or inflexibility.
You lie or conceal anything about your personality, appearance, intentions, or anything else important in a friendship or relationship.
You are scared of someone who is both awesomely carefree, deeply troubled, and intense beyond belief about life.
I'm probably crazy. Not insane, but definitely crazy. If you can't hang with that, then don't talk to me, we're not on the same level.
I am willing to die for my principles. Can you live with a man who might be dead tomorrow? If not, then don't talk to me. Go find yourself a coward who calls himself a man.
I am just as easily capable of hate as love, so play games with my head, and thou shalt be quickly out of my life. You ain't the first, and you probably won't be the last.
I am like everyone and no one you have ever met. Wrap your head around that one and I might wrap my tongue around yours.
That's all for now. Class dismissed.