I'm a musician and rock documentarian. I am also a magnet for misadventures in food service. Most of these appear to have taken place at Friendly's. No snickering please. You have an immune system, don't you?

Speaking of lymphocytes, my uncle is so germ-conscious, he once squeezed Handi Wipes on his chicken at KFC. But that was only because he thought they were lemon juice. Fair enough -- he's not from around here.

Sold out to my partner in a successful tech/finance recruiting firm to make a documentary debunking a 100 year-old technical mystery in guitar playing. Foolhardy? Perhaps. But if I had independently discovered the calculus, I would be no less certain of my greatness. So I remain bumptiously undeterred.

If completely unspooled, my cerebral cortex would stretch further than every Elvis album ever sold, laid end to end. (However, my corpus callosum would only reach to Newark and back.) But it's not length. It's not girth. It's surface area, baby!

Polysyllabic polymath, willing to brave many gallons of precipitation for at least two gallons of cuddle. Indefatigably dedicated friend. Former track captain with legendary VO2 capabilities. Language major, conjugates fearlessly. Just not often enough.

Ahem.

Also, I have an exhaustive collection of power tools, and will inadvisably attempt to build anything from wood. For obvious reasons, I pulled up 247 boards in my floor and managed to fit them all back down again with the help of some graph paper I printed off the internet and a giant rubber mallet that looks like something you'd use to annihilate your cartoon enemies.

I like to measure projects in albums. Two coats of primer? I can get that done in Rumors. Rewire the whole studio? OK that's gonna be a Songs in the Key of Life-sized job.

What can we do in 17 Seconds? Disprove the title, that's what.

E, A, D, G, B, E

that one time I used Comic Sans. But I was on the rebound from Helvetica, and so vulnerable.

Ray Bans, tighty whities, Bob Seger. Let's just keep this between us.

I don't spoon on the first date. And I certainly never fork. Once in a while, though, I take a little napkin.

I'm looking for someone who is high in trans fats because they are incredibly awesome. I would also prefer you hail from San Francisco, because of its streetcars and trademark savory rice dish. If not this, I would be willing to settle for any small town on the Manitoba border where kids light old tires on fire for fun, because you'd probably think I'm like Ricardo Montalban or something, and be very impressed with me.

I'd also like someone who compares favorably to mustard, since it is far and away the most multifarious condiment in the store.

Btw if you are the night manager of a Lucky Charms factory, or a shift supervisor at the Manhattan Special Espresso Soda plant, my lawyer will be forwarding the prenup shortly.

All right, all right, fine! I only do "earnest" once or twice daily, at terce and vespers, but I'll do it for you now:

Smart, funny, creative, and good-lookin'. These are the four pillars of the Tuscan villa we will build together. A little bit of design/fashion, a dash of science. Rosie the Riveter meets Rosie the Reveler. You get the pitcher.

Thank you!