I am the kind of person who will never ceased to be amused by bubble wrap. If it ever becomes illegal to manufacture, and it has to be harvested from the Pacific Gyre and sold on the black market for lots of money, I will buy that bubble wrap so I can pop it. Should there time a-come in which the last bubble wrap bubble's been popped, I will not want to live any more.
I'm cis, straight (sorry, bi- and homosexual men, but we can still be friends), and not-quite-white, but it's not my fault other dudes are a bunch of dicks, and I hope they'll quit being dicks soon. I am in favor of equality, but I find a lot of conversations about contemporary feminism bewildering, and if you could guide me through that wilderness, that'd be cool. Reading lists and explanations and maybe chalk illustrations might help; I'll probably get the point eventually.
South Carolina is where I came from, but I am not there any more because it is owned by mosquitoes. They only let the humans live so they can feed on them. I came to San Francisco via Florida, Spain, Hawaii, Texas, West Virginia, Washington (the state, not the place with all the shiny monuments), the Netherlands, and some other places. Life's not perfect here in San Francisco. Still, I like this place enough to stick around.
I really don't think I'm good at anything.
I like Bergman films; I watch them in the dark whilst drinking dark red wine and frowning darkly behind a shroud of cigarette smoke that is not dark, but shiny and sparkly instead.
Tunes. Sound waves. Kinetic energy like a mosh pit of air molecules, eh? I don't know of anything that is new or obscure or both. Feel free to scoop the wax out of my ears and pour some yummy new (to me, at least) ear candy into them. Megadeth, Joy Order, PJ Harvey, J.S. Bach, Robert Johnson the blues dude, Bauhaus, X, Wailers-era Marley: what I might listen to on a typical afternoon.
Television. Isn't that the glowbox with moving pictures and sound? And little metal whatsits sticking out of it?
I like dead plants that have been torn to shreds. Mmm. Runny chlorophyll and the shrieking of baby carrots. Die, carrots, die. Lamb's tasty, too. If it was in The Little Mermaid, I probably want to eat it.
Visual art (that does not move): Dali, Escher, Bosch, Giger, Ryden, Witkin.