Came to Texas as means of rediscovery after several years in the Bay Area (and formerly by way of Cincinnati, Boston, Houston, and Florida), wanderlust got the best of me and I knew I would find something..."Deep in the Heart of Texas..."
Don't let my stoicism fool you, I am a George Lucas character stuck in a Tim Burton world, a wanderlust looking for trouble and connection.
Traveling, hiking/camping, single malt Scotches, craft or Belgian beers, wine tasting, bourbon, local burlesque shows, farmers markets, antique flea markets, dive bars, live music...
Looking for someone else to explore fun and have myths written about our adventures.
I was the 1982 lightning bug catching champion of the Midwest, I expect any prospective date to also wield a similar trophy.
I make my own mustards (the last one was a delicious harvest flavored bourbon honey hot & spicy mustard). I juggle with the pair o' dimes...
Lighter side: Tom Robbins, John Irving, Chuck Palahniuk, Philip Roth - just discovered Stephen King's "Dark Tower" series...
Movies: Star Wars IV; Godfather I & II; The Big Lebowski; Tarantino; Wes Anderson; Coen Brothers; anything showing sci-fi dystopian societies... and Barbarella (this one is a class by itself)
Music: Black Keys, Beck, Zeppelin, Pearl Jam, Cash, Talking Heads, Beastie Boys, Jack White, Devotchka, The National, Beirut, Wilco, Arcade Fire
TV: Battlestar Galactica, Game of Thrones, Arrested Development, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Dexter
Food: I just moved from the Bay Area where everyone was an excessive foodie. I'm eager to learn of H-Town's culinary destinations. I like the ethnic usual suspects. And spice. Must appreciate spice.
I am a mustard fiend (I make my own - see above). Ketchup and mayonnaise are both inferior.
You may ask yourself, where is that large automobile?
You may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful house
You may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful wife...
Future travel plans (where to travel to next, as opposed to 1.21 Gigawatts & the flux capacitor - those travel plans I've already conquered), the next great bar, and possible screenplays for the second-best sci-fi movie ever.
And why Deer (or Elk or other critters') Crossing signs read "Next __ Miles" - do deer have an internal odometer that tells them to stop at the marked mileage and not go any further?
The word "out" seems like it should be spelled differently. It always feels owlt of place.