I'm queer, not bi. Bi is such a nineties word and it makes me think of corny bullshit and gender binaries that don't exist.

I want to destroy reality.

I'm a professional geographer.

Bicycles mean a lot to me. I've ridden across the country twice on one, and if every car on earth just stopped working, I'd be alright with that.

I sometimes smell like dirt and capitalism/neoliberalism infuriates me. I feel like the older I get the more I hate it, which is funny because aren't old folks supposed to mellow out? The more I learn about it the more I hate it.

Being in school for fucking ever. Riding my bike wherever/whenever I can. Cooking the best food. Camping and backpacking and hangin' by a fire.

I want to open my own bike shop, my own restaurant, my own adventure guiding company, and I wanna do policy analysis because I'm fascinated by current events and definitely keep on top of the news.

Gourmet cooking. Survival. Building fires.

Long distance unsupported bicycle touring.

uhhhhh... farts.

And the thing that the farts come out of... the butt. you know.

Agalloch, Ash Borer, Wolves in the Throne Room, Pallbearer, His Hero is Gone, Noothgrush, Damad, Dystopia, Tragedy, Kylesa, Electric Wizard. Rap music.

American beer.

GUMMO / TREMORS / ROBOCOP

bikes, good food, the woods, loud music, swimming holes, dogs, hugs

car accidents and air disasters and nuclear war

I have a plan for the perfect friday night:

~Go to burning man. Build a tangible model of the proverbial "Hotel California." Have ICP play for a week straight. OD on Faygo.~

And then nuke the whole thing.

Xenia, Ohio. Xenia, Ohio. A few years ago, a
tornado hit this place. It killed the people, left and right. Dogs
died. Cats died. Houses were split open, and you could see
necklaces hanging from branches of trees. Peoples legs and neck
bones were sticking out. Oliver found a leg on his roof. A lot of
peoples fathers died, and were killed by the great tornado. I saw
a girl fly through the sky, and I looked up her skirt. Her skull
was smashed. And some kids died. My neighbor was killed in that
house. He used to ride bikes and three-wheelers. They never found his head. I always thought that was funny. People died in Xenia. Before dad died, he had a bad case of the diabetes.

Maybe you think that we would make "perfect" bike buddies, or pizza pals, or adventure associates, or hot-n-heavy homies. I don't care if you live in another state, you should still message me. I travel a lot, and maybe we would meet up anyways! Besides, I'm not beholden to any one locale.

You should also message me if: You are queer or you at least are a queer activist, or believe wholeheartedly in the struggle/battle against hetero/homo-normativity. You want to fuck with gender or are trans or some other anti-binary representative. You gotta be ok with gender non-conformity. You understand why neoliberalism (capitalism) is fucked up and you would choose to destroy it given the right opportunity. You recognize and are cognizant of the concept of privilege, including your own.

You want to compare farts using organizational charts.