51 San Francisco, United States
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My self-summary
New profile. Starting from scratch. I think the old one may have been too off-putting to too many. I thought it was fucking hilarious but whatever. I tend to think outside the box. Well outside the box. In fact, I haven't even seen the box in years. I barely remember what was even in the box or why there was a box to begin with. Why couldn't it have been a cone, or a tetrahedron or a torus of revolution? Mmm... donuts.
What I’m doing with my life
I like jelly donuts but it really depends so much on the jelly. I also like coconut topped chocolate donuts. They go so well with coffee. But I gave up coffee. I also gave up donuts. But I cheat sometimes. I don't cheat others, only myself. I never cheat at cards. How'm I doing so far?
I’m really good at
My favorite old car I owned was a '77 Dodge van that was traded to me in turn for storage of some guy's belongings which he allowed me to use as well, including his vintage Fender Jaguar electric guitar. The van also came with a cool animal skull which I still have. I think I got the better end of the trade. The van got named Homes and was a lovable and durable beast. It ended up meeting its maker at the crusher. I shed a tear. I am now realizing the irony that the model was a Dodge Tradesman. Why did that never occur to me before?

Another lovable but more precious car was more recent for me but even older. A '61 VW Beetle. It's name was Otto. Gorgeous. Also durable. That one still plies the streets now in the east bay with a new adoring owner.

My latest car is a boring but utilitarian Honda named Black Brian.
The first things people usually notice about me
That was too much auto information. And now I have to change all my passwords.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
I need to buy curtains. Two sets just shattered in the wash. I don't know how to buy curtains. My neighbor uses burlap sacks. I'm totally serious. It's pretty awesome considering his house is probably worth 2.5 million dollars. My other neighbor just bought his house for 7 million. (I'm not making this up. 7 million! There is no ocean view. No tennis courts. No swimming pool.) He uses those cheesy-ass accordion folded paper curtains. So the bar (er, rod) is set pretty low as far as curtains go in my hood.

Jesus, this profile is boring. It's putting me to sleep. But you asked for it. I tried to stimulate you with some forward thinking, creative minded insight but no, you couldn't handle it. You demanded that I drivel on about curtains. Curtains! Of all things. Lord help us.
The six things I could never do without
Nonsense, twaddle, claptrap, balderdash, gibberish, rubbish, mumbo jumbo, garbage, poppycock, piffle, tripe, bull, hogwash, baloney, codswallop, flapdoodle, jive, guff, bushwa, tommyrot, bunkum, crapola, verbal diarrhea.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
And then Jesus answered him, Jesus said, 'Well, my son...that is when I was helping one of the other five billion people on the planet, you selfish fuck. C'mon! You were walking back to your Malibu beach colony home and stubbed your toe on some driftwood, it's not a fuckin' emergency, alright? There's other people with real problems.'
On a typical Friday night I am
I saw a rock band last night. They're called Barefoot Hockey Goalie. HI-larious. The show is all based on an opera they wrote about a narcoleptic kid who got frostbite on his feet so he couldn't put skates on but still managed to play in the narcoleptic pee wee hockey league. That's some funny shit right there and if you don't think so then back slowly out of this profile and click the "hide" button.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Time to get up and make some eggs and sausage! It's nearly noon and I've just been laying here like an idiot, skillfully and deftly alienating dozens upon dozens of attractive and available women.
You should message me if
Next time maybe I'll try attracting available aliens.