52Manhattan, United States
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My self-summary
If you've read this far into my Profile self-summary, then you've demonstrated that you have the patience to know everything there is to know about a person, and now you know more about me than anyone you've ever known in your life.

Me want woman love sex and buy me meals in restaurants and bespoke suits from Turnbull & Asser. Woman who love fun like buy me luxury watches and slimming down activewear clothing garments.

Just lost job of teaching English language speaking for CEOs foreign corporate businesses.

Like women with pictures add Snapchat animal parts on faces.


I like to hangout with my friends. My BEST friend would describe me as, "he's the guy over there, the one with the nuts!"

My best friend is a squirrel.


Why do dating sites exist? I'll explain the answer to this question in the language of macroeconomics.

Prior to the creation of money, exchange used to happen by barter. The problem with barter was what economists call "the dual coincidence of want." In other words, if I need a size 10 pair of men's shoes, and you want 2 new sweaters . . . for it to work you have to have the shoes and I have to have the sweaters.

In this sense, dating is similar to barter. There has to be a "dual coincidence of wants," and barter was a VERY crap mode of exchange.

I made my first financial fortune creating an app that keeps track of where all the diesel-driven street sweeper trucks in Manhattan are at any given second. This led to thousands and thousands of downloads (@ $1,500/download) so people could know where the trucks are and dance around and breath-in among the aerosolized rodent faeces and dried dead pigeon residue.


I currently split my time between Columbia / Yale / Princeton with tenured positions teaching classes on how to engage in interesting conversation with women by recounting movie plots in excruciating detail . . . the second part of the semester of these classes involve lessons in knife throwing.


Sometimes I wonder if a woman posted (say) 8 pictures of completely different women on her OKC Profile . . . would guys actually message her why her Profile pics are 8 different women? My GUESS is 99% of the messages she got wouldn't even comment on this anomaly.


Please do not think of my dating site profile in the same way you think of other dating site profiles. MY profile (I claim) exists more in the realm of advanced advancements in science (you just saw just that when I used 'advanced' and 'advancements' together in one sentence-information-bundle). For example (should you have the energy to read it all), you will find that I invent the word 'contortionistically' . .. . AND I misspell some words in ways that are on the cutting edge of science. There are other cutting edge scientific discoveries in this profile, soooooo . .. if you read it and don't immediately wish to fuck my brains out, you'll have at least poised yourself on the razor edge of S C I E N CE.

Since I'm not a liar, I need to confess upfront that I paid someone to write this.

I made the mistake of signing a contract where the woman writing it would get $1,000/word, though. So she just kept writing, and writing and writing. Blew away a decent chunk of my fortune. (Just this tiny chunk you just read for no cost whatsoever cost me near $347k for her to write. If you get to the end of my Profile, you'll see that the it cost me $5.957MM . . . but YOU get to absorb it all at no cost).

But now I have THE PERFECT OK Cupid Self-Summary and can meet a woman worth $20BN.

So I got THAT goin' for me . . .

(Don't worry if YOU'RE not worth $20BN. After we have a lot of sex and then I meet the $20BN woman and settle down, I'll toss you $30MM or so of HER casheesh). Then you'll be RICH!!! (And have had a lot of sex!)

I've learned A LOT about women from staring at OK Cupid 37 hours/day for the last 3 years . . .

What have I learned?

I've seen a picture of a woman with (basically) a perfect body in a swimsuit doing a cartwheel on a beach. I'm not trying to sound like Roy from 'Blade Runner' describe the amazing sci-fi shit he'd seen moments before death. But if I WAS . . . this site would be like Blade-Runner-replicant-dying-moment-memory generator . . .

On this site, there exist A LOT of women who LOVE to travel. A LOT of women love FUN. A LOT of women love to pet wild animals. A LOT of women love to LAUGH.

This knowledge astonished me in ways I never imagined. There exist hewmans who loved to have fun and laugh! Previously I'd thought everyone was a dour fun-hater.

I'm particularly ENTHRALLED by women who describe their extreme manichean views of potential sexual relationships: EVERY relationship (according to this view) is either a casual hook-up (which the woman is invariably not interested in) or a lifetime partnership that infuses into her life bliss.

I collected other info . .

A LOT of women are smart, A LOT of them ask their friends what the finest qualities are about themselves when creating their dating site profiles.
A LOT of women are very uncomfortable describing themselves in their dating site profiles.

I learned about the existence of Asian women who don't want to be dating-site-messaged if you're just a dude with an Asian fetish. I learned there are older women who don''t want you messaging them if you're 19 years old.

A LOT of women have VERY impressive professional credentials. A LOT of women LOVE TO READ!!!!

(Congratulations on developing a love of reading. In the film 'Smart People' the dickbrain professor writes a book called 'You Can't Read!')

A lot of women have accumulated pictures of themselves petting wild animals and voyaging around on yachts. Most women also have pictures of themselves in exotic/foreign locations.

All of this accomplished EXACTLY what a dating site is supposed to accomplish -- piquing my interest in the members of the sex one is attracted to . .

If I was a sociopath (a dating addict, and a sex addict), I would take SCRUPULOUS notes on what I've learned from reading (intently) these profiles over the last years, then I would construct MY profile to conform to the desires of the vast majority on this site.

Unfortunately, after a car ran into me and I hit my head very hard on a sidewalk, my sociopathic qualities (POOF) evaporated into thin air one day.

One of my earliest academic accomplishments was to completely turn the field of studying hewman sexual behavior upside down.

I discovered that it is not necessary to make lewd propositions to women. Just saying the words "lewd proposition" to any given woman made it unneccessary to make the actual lewd proposition. Women are well-wired to sort it out on their own.

This led to the creation of over 900 jobs in 134 university Psychology departments for professors wanting to "flesh out" my beyond-genius insight into hewman sexuality.


Everyone should have a FAVORITE activity . . . and MINE is reading. If you gave me a choice of having group sex with 3 nineteen year old super models in Hamilton Bermuda vs. buying a $2 paperback from some sketchy dude with a book table on a Manhattan sidewalk, I would LUNGE for the paperback purchase.

When I walk down the sidewalk I read (this has led to my bumping into trees very often). When I'm crossing the street I'm reading (this has led to my bumping into moving cars very often). When I'm in a coffee shop I'm reading. When I'm piloting 767's I'm reading. When I'm sleeping upside down I'm reading.

Since I love reading so much, I thought my destiny was to work in a bookstore. But I got fired for reading too much.

(Later I realized it was a Russian bookstore and all the books were written in Russian . . . and I don't speak or read Russian.)

Initially I thought this meant I had completely lost my mind, but in the end it was okay . . . all the books I'd beeen reading had been math books.


My original strategy for dating sites was to post all the pictures I have of myself stroking/petting a giraffe. Then a woman (a REAL giraffe-lover) agreed to go on a date with me, and she told me on the date that no woman wants to sleep with some dude who loves petting giraffes.

Then I said to her "who said anything about sleeping? I snore pretty loud. Couldn't we just fuck?"

Her negative reaction really put my thinking processes in overdrive. Why was the woman who was into my me-and-the-giraffes pics now on a date with me telling me I'm NEVER gonna get laid with the giraffe pics?

In the end I took her advice and deleted all my giraffe-seduction material.


I guess the kind of woman I'm looking for is a woman who really OWNS her own sexuality (and by THAT I mean not just being able to use variations on the word 'own' twice in a single declarative statement) . . . then she'd rent this frantic sexuality to me for (say) a glass of the least expensive Loire Valley wine on a wine list . . .

She "spoke truth to power" earlier in the day before getting naked with me, demonstrating (on principle and to achieve maximum pleasure) that power is not the ultimate aphrodisiac. Contortionistically, she would also LOATHE the expression "speaking truth to power."

(Actually, this dream woman of mine would have lied to power and kicked it in the nuts.)


While I would never in a bajillion years compare myself unfavorably to Martin Luther King (nor with other messianic figures such as Jesus Christ, Charlie Merrill, Selma, Billy Bob Thorton, etc.), I have a dream that I know with metaphysical certaintly will soon become a reality . . .

A worldwide committee of scientists and thinkers will convene and proclaim me to be Humanitarian of the Century for clicking LIKE on the most number of dating site profiles. (So you need to puzzle-out in your own brain box how special you are that the Humanitarian of the Century clicked LIKE on your profile vs. the fact that the only reason he (i.e. me) will in the future (and possibly the distant future) win Humanitarian of the Century is he (me) clicks LIKE on EVERY profile on 30 different dating sites.

What I'm tryin' to say / In my own 'round 'bout way / is you special.

(Notice, please, if you will, my VERY subtle intentional misspelling of certainty to make it rhyme with reality. So don't be one of the scores of women sending me a message every day telling me how dumb I am).


I pride myself on my skills in the bedroom -- for example, doing my Borat impressions during vigorous sexual intercourse (by "vigorous", I mean I'M lying on my back half asleep, and YOU'RE on top having the greatest sexual moments of your life . . . "twerking-for-real" or whatever the kids call it nowadays).

I have the sexiest "six-pack" you have ever seen in your sex-aware life. Not my abs that are totally flabby and disgusting . . . I'm talkin' 'bout the six pack of Victory Golden Monkey beer you BETTER have very cold in your fridjrator when I'm over at your place and we're naked together.

I'm very flexible in bed. If you taser me I'll roll over from sleeping on my stomach to sleeping on my back.

But I suppose what MOST women chase after me for is my collection of links to free internet porn that I've Gmail'd to myself over the years. This makes me feel used in some ways, but I have a pure, forgiving soul that is expansive enough to understand most women don't have the desire or resources to spend 33 hours per day watching free internet porn, thus they expect their new object of desire (moi) to bring them up to speed on the super high quality free internet porn out there.

To me, the most shocking thing I've experienced on OK Cupid is profiles of women who say they love kids (some even going so far as to say they want you to love THEIR kids).

I mean . . . I'm as twisted as the next guy, but for me pedophilia is a definite no-no. I hope my firm position on this matter will not be a deal-breaker for you.


My greatest talent (other than bringing women to the highest levels of sexual pleasure they have EVER experienced while I sleep peacefully on my back, not moving) is writing LIMERICKS . . .

here's an example:

Mojito with lime
Has sugar in it and gives
Me acid stomach.

(The Japanese are genius to have created such a minimalist poetic form)


I'm probably most succinctly described as "The World Traveler Extraordinaire."

I'm CONSTANTLY traveling, and I've lived all over -- Madrid, Barcelona, Toledo, Toledo, Tomato, Tomato, Potato, Potato, Minneapolis, St. Paul, London, Funtown, Seasalter, Oceansaltier, Massmachussetts, The Twin Cities, Triplet Town, Quadtriplet Village, Houston, London, New York, Staten Island, Paris, San Francisco, Beirut, Oklahoma City, Gaithersburgh, Portand OR, Portanland ME, Importandland ME,New York, Jamestown, Hamilton Bermuda, Ibiza, Wichita, New York, The Maldives, Micronesia, Indonesia, Cannes, Nice, NotNice

I'm the kinda guy you might need to get your bone-y ass on a plane to go meet, and when you get there, I might not be there.

Then you'll have to turn your plane in a different direction to come meet me, but even after (like) 38 iterations of your hopping all over the place on your private plane . . . you probably STILL didn't catch up with me. (Then I'll sick my team of lawyers on your ass and get at minimium restraining orders against you or sue your ass).

(These are skills I honed as a professional money manager, by which I mean "managed money" using client funds to fuel up the yachts I owned that I crashed all the time 'cause I'm color-blind).

So you gotta LOVE travel and adventure to keep up with me, woman. . . .


I'm presently preparing to sue my last 15 girlfriends for every dime they have and every frickin' dime they are ever going to earn, so if you have a legal background and could help me with this . . . it could fast-track our relationship . . . BIG TIME


We could just have a short term thing that's intensely sexual, but when I finally hook up with some woman who passed the Bar and is moderately litigiously-competent and RAVENOUSLY sociopathic . . . then YOU'LL be added to the (current) list of the 15 women I'm going to sue.


While I'm guessing marriage "is no picnic," I feel compelled to offer that being single "is no picnic" either . . .

For example? The strange vibrations you feel emanating in your head the moment after you've clicked LIKE on an OK Cupid profile in which the woman has uploaded a picture of herself carrying a gun . . .

It might be more dangerous out there than I imagined . . . In the same way automobiles are much more dangerous than most people sense.


I had a cousin Eddie in Minneapolis who had horrible acne his whole life and lived in his parents' attic (his whole life). His parents were OK with this, but they struck a deal with him that they'd have the property rights to two shelves: one for old, dusty board games and one for Kleenex and toilet paper they'd stock up on when it went on sale. The latter condition, while burdesome in some ways, appealed to him because he compulsively masturbated in his room. He loved professional wrestling and working in the library. I lost track of Eddie and weep about it to this day. His father worked in an earmuff factory.


OK Cupid! is like a voyage of discovery, and the appeal this site had to me was I hadn't ventured out on a voyage of discovery for 6,000 years back when I discovered Antarctica during a past life my over-paid psychic informed me of 500 years ago.

PLEASE do not let my advanced age lead you to reject me though . . . 200 years ago when Noah built his Ark, he was already 600 years old and still managed to have sex with BOTH sexes of every species of animal of the world (and this was before lots of thems went extinct-o).

My tales of discovery were never recordified 'cause writing hadn't been invented at the time and my journal logs ended up buried beneath a non-spectacular pyramid.

(It's not easy to bore archieologists, but this pyramid was SO dull that it did the trick, thus my genius pre-language journal logs will be lost forever in time.)

During my voyages of discovery mastering cartography and misspelling, I discovered the phenomenon refferred to in common parlance as "sugar babies" . . .

"Sugar babies" are indescribably gorgeous, VERY young, and VERY sexed-up young (did I mention young?) women who not only will hop on top of a 600 year old man (such as myself), but will also buy him expensive gifts, expensive meals, luxury vacations . . . the list is endless . . .

I never managed to figure out where "Sugar babies" got all the money they have to just throw away on having intercourse with me, but I suspect it's from a treasure trove of gold discovered by Spanish conquistadors who were in search of the Fountain of Youth.

Most women who message me to tell me how stoopid I am tell me I shouldn't be interested in gorgeous 19 year-olds who just want to have sex all the time and buy me stuff, and I'm always at a loss for how to respond to them, tell them they are absolutely correct, and feel bad about myself.

I apologize that ALL of the above has just been one long-winded build up to ask the only question that really matters to me: Do you like scary movies?

THIS is one of the MOST frequently answered questions on OK Cupid! (even answered by women who only answer 4 or 5 questions in total.

And for good and splendid and rational reasons. I shall not inform you of my answer to this question, but YOUR answer will make all the difference as to whether or not you will be "lucky" enough to score a date with ME!

IF it's true I LOVE scary movies . . . I can't even BEGIN to imagine myself with a woman who DOESN'T like scary movies.

And if I DON'T love scary movies . . . can you even begin to fathom why I'd waste a nano-second of my life in the dating-presence of a woman who DOES like scary movies?


Nope! Your eyes are not deceiving you . . . it is I, the dude who started the Kickstarter campaign to raise $25 for a telescoping selfie stick and ended up raising $150k.

So if you're a "celebrity-phobe," you probably shouldn't be messaging me . . .


For the past few years I've been subsisting on an AUD 50MM grant from the government of Australia to re-write the Australian National Anthem (which I've been procrastinating on). So I have a lot of free time during the day . . .


The FIRST and absolute most important fun thing you need to know about me is . . . I love to have F U N!!!

I don't know what it is about having fun that makes me love it so much . . . . but my hours I spend procrastinating over rewriting the Australian National Anthem are spent trying to puzzle out the exact correct answer to why I love having fun. This is one of the topics I focus A LOT of my mental energies on.

I guess there is the fact that it's fun, and fun is enjoyable.

Also, when you're having fun, it's fun. So it's like double fun to have fun, and double fun is like twice as fun to have, so now you're like having 2^2 much fun. (For you who flunked maths like I did 75 times, 2^2 is WAY more than double the fun. It's 2x2 = 97x the amount of fun).

This fun ^ n (n ---> infinity) ascends into the heavens (but in a fun way) at an expanding exponential rate, which means just a TINY amount of fun can soon be approaching infinite fun.

So please don't message me if you hate having fun, or you're uncomfortable with people who love having fun (and who love talking about how much they love having fun).

If you're this sort of fun-hater (or hater-on-fun-lovers), then it won't be fun to read your message which (after reading this) will no doubt contain justifications for why you hate on fun.

NOW . . . (speaking of my love of fun) . . .

Indulge me, if you will, to offer a variation on the poet Ezra Pound . . .

In a Fun-Lovely Station of the Fun Metro

THE fun apparition of these fun-loving faces in the fun crowd
Fun petals on a fun black bough


Since I've covered quite a bit of material already in my Profile, I thought it would be helpful to construct sort of a "mini-quiz" about myself and how YOU mesh with MY info.

Women who obtain 100% scores on the quiz will be HIGHLY sought after by me:


[ Quiz Question 1. ]
Describe the project I've been procrastinating on over the last years.

[ Quiz Question 2. ]
Provide your best current quote for the USD/AUD exchange rate.

[ Quiz Question 3. ]
True or False: I love to have fun?

[ Quiz Question 4. ]
Elaborate on your answer to [ Quiz Question 3. ] in terms of the extent to which I either don't love or do love to have fun and my reasons for it.

[ Quiz Question 5. ]
Do YOU love having fun or not having fun? To what extent? What are your feelings about people who love having fun and people who do not love having fun?

Comment on the paradox that for someone who HATES having fun, the MOST amount of fun they've ever had is actually the LEAST amount of fun they've ever had.


I don't understand when a guy is flipping through heterosexual women OK Cupid! profiles on Quickmatch that you see dudes' pictures representing some of the profiles . . .

Are these guys who were too fucking dumb to categorize themselves as men looking for women or men looking for men (and miscategorized themselves as women looking for men), or are these women who are too stoopid to know they need to offer a picture of themselves rather than ex-boyfriends?

The hewmans (in general) confuse me, but this particular anomaly VERY confuses me . . .

I was on track to becoming the World's Most Powerful Collateral Manager. I would have been able to amass $3BN in collateral with the snap of my fingers . . .

I've eaten the 'coquillage' plate you need to order 24 hours in advance at Roellinger. If you know what that means (specifically), we should immediately have sex (if you're semi-attractive and live in NYC)

Technically, aren't people looking for casual sex a subset of people looking for activity partners?
A person who is active on the dating site OK Cupid for 3 hours per day is 94.487228% more likely to find a relationship in the next three months than a person with Guillain-Barré syndrome who is completely paralyzed in a hospital for the next 3 months. This has been precisely calculated. It's math, so STFU . . .
Basically, when all is said and done, I'd like to meet a woman like Portia from Shakespeare's 'Merchant of Venice' or if not that someone living close by who'd want to hang out during the day having sex . . . :-)
I am The Darling of the European Luxury Watch Industry . . . AND I always procrastinate too long between haircuts.

I think the Lawrence Raab poem (below) is an appropriate intro for a dating site profile. The poem has fun with the topics of fear and paranoia as related to romantic connections, and the silly sci-fi imagery could be construed to match up nicely with the wackiness that online dating has introduced onto the hewmans connecting with each other . . .

Even from the beach I could sense it—
lack of welcome, lack of abiding life,
like something in the air, a certain
lack of sound. Yesterday
there was a mountain out there.
Now it’s gone. And look

at this radio, each tube neatly
sliced in half. Blow the place up!
That was my advice.
But after the storm and the earthquake,
after the tactic of the exploding plane
and the strategy of the sinking boat, it looked

like fate and I wanted to say, “Don’t you see?
So what if you’re a famous biochemist!
Lost with all hands is an old story.”
Sure, we’re on the edge
of an important breakthrough, everyone
hearing voices, everyone falling

into caves, and you’re out
wandering through the jungle
in the middle of the night in your negligee.
Yes, we’re way out there
on the edge of science, while the rest
of the island continues to disappear until

nothing’s left except this
cliff in the middle of the ocean,
and you, in your bathing suit,
crouched behind the scuba tanks.
I’d like to tell you
not to be afraid, but I’ve lost

my voice. I’m not used to all these
legs, these claws, these feelers.
It’s the old story, predictable
as fallout—the rearrangement of molecules.
And everyone is surprised
and no one understands

why each man tries to kill
the thing he loves, when the change
comes over him. So now you know
what I never found the time to say.
Sweetheart, put down your flamethrower.
You know I always loved you.

Not to be rude, but is it really intelligent to put on your OK Cupid Profile self-summary a sentence similar to "I'm intelligent," or "I'm smart"? It's kinda like deciding to write a short story and in the beginning saying "this is a fabulously written story" . . .

Like practically every frickin' woman's profile self-summary says "I'm smart" . . . wtf?

I'm not saying you're NOT smart if you've said "I'm smart" in your self-summary . . . I'm just saying . . . it's something to think about . . . and since no doubt you ARE smart, you may wanna do some editing . . .

Also, just as a sort of unsolicited public courtesy (after all, presumably straight women don't read the profiles of other straight women) . . . . are you aware that 96% of all women profiles on here say "I like to travel," and/or "I like to have fun," and/or "My friends tell me I'm ____________ "

It's actually fascinating in such a diverse place as USA (specifically NYC) like EVERY WOMAN puts that in her profile.

I am smart and I
Love to travel and have fun
My friends say I'm ____________


In the course of the "journey" that is reading through the language making up this OKCupid Profile, I will (among other things) offer out an idea of how theoretically a 98.9% Match could be much less meaningful than a 0.00001% Match, and how it is possible for a 0.00001% Match to be the 11-sigma connection of your existence. This is due to a fail in the presuppositions behind the OKCupid Match-%age connection model which does not factor in individuals who are extremely sarcastic when they answer the multiple choice questions.


Digressing from the above to a Scientology analogy, I just continue workin'/answerin' the OKC questions . . trying to eventually break 1,000. Get to some level when they finally tell me about the existence of Thetans or whatever happens when I become a member of the OKC aristocracy . . .

I expect instead I'll be banned from the aristocracy for having pointed out the design flaw . . . Alas, I will never reach a state of CLEAR.


The chances of rhyme are like the chances of meeting—
In the finding fortuitous, but once found, binding:

(unless you got the whole polyamory thing down)

But it's not really true, is it? Otherwise the category "short-term dating" would not exist . . . .

OK, so for whatever it's worth, I do have a quibble with OKC in that the Match/Friend/Enemy percentages aren't granular enough. Even if you have a 0.00001% Match / 0.00001% Friend / 99.99999% Enemy connection with a woman's profile, a guy's still got it in is guy-mind that he's got a chance, no? Buuuut OKC won't let you know that (oh noooo . . . ) . . . it's callously into big round numbers . . .

If the "zigging" convention is to seek that almost Platonic ideal of the 99.999999% match, why couldn't you play as well with a "zagging" counterpoint of discovering your 0.000001% match?

THINK ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!! What if the perfect person for you answered all the questions sarcastically??? Makes ya think, no? That sarcastic answer she gave ("no") to the question "do you enjoy sarcasm?", corresponded to YOUR non-sarcastic "no" answer that lead to the 0.000001% match and you to never imagining the 0.000001% person is that 11-sigma perfect match!!!


Meeting up with a woman for the first time should be like showing up for an important banking or hedge fund job interview. It's important to drench (and I mean DRENCH) oneself in vast amounts of cologne so immediately she smells how excellent and special you are . . . get all the senses workin' for 'ya there . . . like in the opening credits for 'The Twilight Zone' . . .

(I'm not just talkin' AXE body spray . . . I'm talkin' the REALLY good stuff . . . )


Tonight (02/26/2013) Pascaline Lepeltier, Rouge Tomate restaurant's all-time-genius-on-Earth wine director, sold me her absolute last bottle of Clos Roche Blanche sauvignon blanc. So don't even THINK about ranking THIS profile less than 5 stars. Feel ashamed this app. doesn't allow one-off special circumstances where a woman is able to rate a guy about 78 stars . . .


I never fail to be amazed at the irrationality of human animal behavior.

If I message you and you don't reply, don't feel guilty -- I probably forgot I messaged you 5 minutes after messaging you.

(Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.)

Are there people who actually go sorting through OKC profiles doling out stars between 1 & 5? They must be the most important people in the world who have been appointed the arbiters of the love lorn . . . Perhaps we'll never meet. But I learned my lessons from Ivy League time-served vis-a-vis grade inflation. You may never fall madly in love with me, but I promise I'll never have given you a B-, C, D or F.

If you have sex before a first date, even if the sex doesn't work out it's still sex. WHEREAS a bad first date has no redeeming social value whatsoever. Just sayin' . . . .
What I’m doing with my life
Business venture with the world's most spectacular business partners.
I’m really good at
Thinking outside the box.

I like to cook. I own about 25 cookbooks.
The first things people usually notice about me
I have a gianormous head.

大 頭 

大 頭 大 頭,下  雨 不  愁

你 有 雨 傘, 我  有 大  頭
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Reading is vastly over-rated. Why bother when you can just watch Book TV? Keep in mind that in the film 'A Beautiful Mind' (stupid movie, but had its moments), John Nash didn't chide the PhD students who lost out getting the MIT job that they should have read more. He told them they should have paid more attention to first principles.

That said, I realize there is advanced extra-terrestrial intelligence out there which transcends just looking at the pictures in The Robb Report and actually incorporates also reading the articles.

Seriously, though, if you think you're an uber-genius 'cause you read 'The Dialogic Imagination,' come back to me after you've read 'Radon Transforms and the Rigidity of the Grassmannians'.

Also, I have extreme ideas about restaurants and food.
Six things I could never do without
1.) Living across the street from Columbia.
2.) Wine recommendations from Pascaline Lepeltier, the Rouge Tomate resident wine-genius-on-Earth
3.) Ridiculously scary-smart friends
4.) My frequent bat shit crazy ideas
5.) Kurumazushi
6.) Facebook
7.) only offering the exact officially designated number of answers requested in OKC Profile questions
I spend a lot of time thinking about
The fact that the world is so incredibly screwed up and the hewmans tend not to be paying attention.
On a typical Friday night I am
A lot of women in NYC seem to have a similar trading position -- they are long dating and short dates. [1] It's sorta similar to 2008 when all the hedge funds hired Ecole Normale super geniuses to bulid them mathematically beautiful, unique models that resulted in all the hedge funds having the exact same positions.

I'm not interested in doing a lot of dating.

[1] in "Wall Street lingo," being short something means you hate it, being long something means you love it. So what that phrase is suggesting is that when you're on a date with a woman and you ask her, "how often do you date?" and she replies "4 times per week, I hate it." she's actually not completely accurate in communicating the position of her book. She hates the dates, not the dating.

I actually tend to like the dates, but the dating is fairly exhausting. So by extension I guess that means I'm worth investing in as a hedge . . . .

So don't think of messaging me as messaging an OKC Profile . . . think of it as investing in a cool hedge fund that doesn't charge management fees or performance fees.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Well . . . I could share with you my dreams, but the ones I usually remember involve my teeth falling out of my mouth in giant rotten chunks or the final exam for the class I forgot I had registered for and thus hadn't been attending all semester at Columbia is in 30 minutes and I'm walking around campus naked . . .


I had coffee with this friend of mine who is a hedge fund manager the other day, and he was super depressed.

"Why are you so down," I asked him?

"My therapist just told me I have a multiple personality disorder," he said back to me.

"Really? That's pretty rare, I thought?"

"Yeah, but in my case it's even worse. The multiple equals zero."

-- only joke I ever invented


Woof woof woof woof woof
Not on the ROOF!! Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!
Yelp! Yelp! Yelp! Yelp! H E L P !!!

-- haiku I wrote about Romney's poor dog
You should message me if
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

I hear my being dance from ear to ear.

You're actually interested in having real connections with people and aren't more interested in the dancing over the dancer.

If you're someone who loves to talk about "how busy" you are, please don't bother contacting me. The year my ex-girlfriend billed 3,800 hours at a Wall Street law firm she never once, ever said she was busy; so (trust me) you're not that busy. If you like Le Bernardin or David Chang restaurants, don't message me. If you think David Chang's sea urchin with whipped tofu and bubble tea bubbles is a genius culinary creation, or you are willing to stand in line at Momofuku Ssam bar for an hour to get a table or a seat at the bar, please go live in a hole in Montana like Ted Kaczynki. If you love the restaurant Nobu, do NOT contact me. If you've ever tried to dissolve freshly grated wasabi in soy sauce, don't contact me. Also, if you've ever bought anything at a Thomas Pink boutique, don't bother contacting me. DO NOT message me if you have ever bought yourself or worn a pair of Ferragamo shoes. Also I have a pathological irrepressible hatred of management consultants . . . what I'm saying is . . . this strictly applies to whether you are currently a management consultant or have ever been a management consultant. Just do the world a favor and end yourself as quickly as possible (or get one of your management consultant "colleagues" to "counsel you out" of existing).

But just to get back to the topic sentence in the previous paragraph, I don't care if you're a frickin' 3rd year associate at Wachtell and are sleeping in your office . . . don't ever talk about "how busy" you are. Yu-Na Kim doesn't do her skating routines to a sound track on which she talks about how difficult it was to have just done that triple toe loop. If you can't make everything look easy, you're less than nothing.
The two of us