[I was careful to include leading zeroes in the date in my previous parenthetical comment -- and will be in this one, as well -- so that you can easily tell which number refers to the day and which to the month. That's very important. --ed., 9/09/09]

[Also, I keep forgetting to mention that I'm always interested in finding new people to climb and/or hike with, particularly in the East Bay, and most especially if said people are generally awesome. I find I don't tend to like the other sort of people nearly as much. So now I might continue to forget to mention it, but that won't be quite so much of a problem. --ed., 9/09/09]

[It's probably about time I accepted that I need to actually edit this profile instead of shimming further bracketed trivialities into its preamble. Yes, it's almost certainly about time. --ed., 9/01/09]

[I feel that I must perhaps on occasion tack another note on to the beginning of this profile to point out how long I've let it lapse without any mentions worth changing, or vice-versa. So, hey, I've accomplished something today. --ed., 6/29/09]

[This latest update (12/19/08) because I realized I actually do speak a bit of Lisp now (not 'lisp,' of which I only know a pidgin dialect), and if there's one thing we strive for here at StarchCo, it's accuracy. If there are two things, the other is probably espresso.]

[Readers, take note! While it is true that I have not significantly updated my profile in years -- actual ones, at that -- it is still true nonetheless that 1. these are things I wrote about myself and 2. I am alive. Just replace "San Francisco" with "Hayward" and add a couple of highly eventful years, and you can pretty much consider this accurate. Oh, and add a dash of CorpseFairy while you're at it, because she is, after all, exceedingly wonderful. Thanks for her, OKC!]

I live in an unusually small mansion in San Francisco, where I collect alter-egos, cause trouble, confuse the populace, and toil without reward as both a means and an end. I do computer work for an esoteric-yet-exciting software company to pay the bills, write to pay the existential crises, and spend the rest of my time trying to fix my knee in the wake of competitive surgery (meniscal repair, US-West League) by rock climbing on fake rocks in a warehouse in the Mission. I am widely considered to be one of District 9's foremost musical saw players.

Check out http://starchy.livejournal.com for more intricate fictions.

Filling out forms on dating sites. Come to think of it, you're reading what someone entered into a form on a dating site, so who are you to judge?

I pride myself on my ability to not be a dumb-ass, even when I am, in fact, being a dumb-ass.

My reluctance to take the easy way out with some crack about the size of my genitals.

(a) Thomas Wolfe (not Tom), Pynchon, Henry Miller, Bukowski, Sartre's fiction, Dali's autobiographies, Cioran, Joyce, Hesse, Burroughs, Robert Anton Wilson, John Gardner, Jack Black (no, the other one), Richard Brautigan, and oh fine I'll add Richard Dawkins to the list. Most recently blown away by: Junot Díaz.

(b) Forbidden Zone, Videodrome, The Piano Teacher and the rest of Michael Haneke's delightfully bleak work, Spellbound (the Hitchcock one), Repo Man, Manos: Hands of Fate, American Astronaut, most Gilliam, most Kubrick, most Jarmusch, The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, Her Lover, and Their Dentist. Most recently blown away by: Moon.

(c) Gogol Bordello, Firewater, most Mike Patton projects, John Zorn, Barkmarket, Cop Shoot Cop, Chet Baker, Rudy Schwartz Project, Melvins, Mark Lanegan, Tom Waits, Morphine, NoMeansNo, Scott H. Biram. Most recently: Triclops!. Why the hell was Oingo Boingo missing from this list, anyway? Most recently blown away by: Firewater. Again.

(d) If spice is the spice of food, I'm not sure how variety applies. I do like variety, though. And spice. Sometimes.

Most recently blown away by: Those particular heirloom tomatoes. Yeah, those. Mmm.

1. Pride
2. Envy
3. Gluttony
4. Sloth
5. Avarice
6. Wrath
6a. Lust

Anything my mind can get its hands on.

Driving around a rotary until I run out of gas.

I'm lactose intolerant. I blame society. Aside from that, I'm sure I could find a better response to this one, but you'd have to pay me.

Now accepting applications for the position of partner in a tragic, doomed-from-the-start, bound to scar and/or deform, passionate perverted and pugnacious affair. Temp to perm. Not a paying position, but the
attached benefits of attachment are multifarious for the right applicant, who shall be synonymous with wrong applicant.

Please list all neuroses, talents, kinks, hang-ups, and a timeline of all mental breakdowns over the past five years. Please explain any periods of significant length not accounted for thereby; how did you spend this time, and why? Leave no contact info. Anonymous and aggressively ambivalent postings on craigslist and/or public screeds against my virtue will suffice as follow-up inquiries.

Not an equal-opportunity exploiter. Jesus freaks, salespeople, and stock brokers need not apply.