30Brooklyn, United States
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My self-summary
I live, I work, I play. I like to see live music, read, ride my bike, listen to my iPod, drink coffee, follow the news, geek out on techie shit. I cook professionally. I'm a sentimental nihilist with a taste for a fine whiskey. I like to get lost.

I am adventurous, resourceful and sarcastic.
What I’m doing with my life
Aspiring chef working at a swanky New American/French restaurant in Williamsburg. I like to bike, see movies,
Checking out bars with friends, cooking dinners, seeing live music whenever I can.
The first things people usually notice about me
My dry sarcastic wit.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
new recipes
On a typical Friday night I am
Working. My days off seem to rotate.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I live in Bushwick like the heart of Bushwick.
You should message me if
If you like to see live music; if you like to drink good beer; if you like to blaze and watch TV; if you like to talk movies; if you like to wander around

The following is solely to attain a 1000 works on my profile. Please disregard or don't. Bonus points if you can place the excerpt:

Call me Jonah. My parents did, or nearly did. They called me John.

Jonah--John--if I had been a Sam, I would have been Jonah still--not because I have been unlucky for others, but because somebody or something has compelled me to be certain places at certain times, without fail. Conveyances and motives, both conventional and bizarre, have been provided. And, according to plan, at each appointed second, at each appointed place this Jonah was there.


When I was a younger man--two wives ago, 250,000 cigarettes ago, 3,000 quarts of booze ago . . .

When I was a much younger man, I began to collect material for a book to be called The Day the World Ended.

The book was to be factual.

The book was to be an account of what important Americans had done on the day when the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan.

It was to be a Christian book. I was a Christian then.

I am a Bokononist now.

I would have been a Bokononist then, if there had been anyone to teach me the bittersweet lies of Bokonon. But Bokononism was unknown beyond the gravel beaches and coral knives that ring this little island in the Caribbean Sea, the Republic of San Lorenzo.

We Bokononists believe that humanity is organized into teams, teams that do God's Will without ever discovering what they are doing. Such a team is called a karass by Bokonon, and the instrument, the kan-kan, that bought me into my own particular karass was the book I never finished, the book to be called The Day the World Ended.
The two of us