Keep on reading; my profile is more fun than all the other profiles. But please know that I don't play here anymore, not since the Journals started to show signs of personality disorder. And I'm not The Prospect; I don't really fit that 'available' label that Staff Robot cooked up for me; it just fits less poorly than the alternatives.
If you want, you can write me anyway. Sometimes I get these fabulous messages from fabulous people. And sometimes... I write back.
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Hi. My name is Allen.
You should have been here a week ago, when this profile was a shining masterpiece. But Zombieland premiered, and stole all my best lines about twinkies and civilization, so I had to change my profile once again. It was bound to happen anyway; this profile mutates every couple of months. We mutate, so naturally our profiles should mutate as well. Come to think of it, even zombies are mutations of our fresh and wholesome selves. Twinkies, on the other hand... well I just hope you appreciate the profound message woven into the very fabric of Zombieland: the opposite of a zombie is a twinkie.
But I digress... What is left of this profile now? Yes, where is this profile at? Truth be told, it's in terrible shape. I'm sorry, ever so sorry, but you're about to be disappointed. This is the 47th profile that the OKQ has lured you into this week: another timorous mouse-click foray into the hopeful world of precious connections. You're looking for something in particular. You probably have something -- some type -- likely some *other* type -- in mind. I know, I know, you're older now, we both are, it's not high school any more, and you don't have to abide the words of Meryn Cadell:
You know you're dealing with
someone who's different
And different is NOT what you're looking for
You're looking for those Alpine ski-chiseled features
and that sort of blank look which passes for deep thought
or at least the notion that someone's home
You're looking for the boy of your dreams
who is the same boy in the dreams of all your friends
That was high school and now you're grown up and have distinctive tastes. You can handle an introduction containing an ironically commonplace self-refuting paradox like "I'm a contradiction in many ways," or even the more cynical "I'm different, just like everybody else."
But this time, it's worse. This here profile is owned and operated by an Unnatural Thinker. You've found an outlier who tends to embody characteristics of both Carl Sagan and JD Salinger. Between the two there's so much oil and water that I should introduce my own line of salad dressing. But despite the dissonance there is no contradiction, no self-refuting paradox, not a scrap of lettuce because... sadly... Sagan and Salinger are not speaking to one another. Carl thinks JD is a self-absorbed iconoclast, and JD observes that Carl is hopelessly in love with butt-head science. I've had to put up with these two in my mind for a long time now. Their aloof attitudes and -- dare I say it... outright arrogance -- have grown tiresome.
At least they can agree on the long hair. I may be mistaken for a wannabe renegade, but at least I won't be mistaken for a wannabe conformist. If you haven't already worked it out, the long hair will strongly suggest (or warn) that I am very much not a product of cultural programming. I have had no television, nor had interest in television, since I moved out from my parents. I have not yet seen an episode of Frasier. This has contributed to a very alien sense of morality, and I like that. I like to be sure of myself and yet not fit in. It helps me manage the magical balance of having a big ego while simultaneously being humble.
If you're still curious about me, take my reincarnation placement exam. It's fun, and will reveal a little about both of us:
If you get Dante's Inferno, you can just re-take it. That's the beauty of reincarnation.
I'm putting the finishing touches on a device so that I can file for a patent and / or start production. But I can't talk about that, so...
Let's pretend the question asked me what I've done. Here are the highlights:
Over the course of my life I have given away a motorcycle named Loretta, an old pickup, a Suburban, about half a dozen cheap cars, innumerable used books, a huge amount of food, and a large number of unsolicited wisecracks. I've built two cabins and a treehouse. I've sired four sons and encouraged them all to be awesome in their own way. I once ate a cricket.
That about covers it.
You know what Allen is good at? Making you feel as if you're intelligent and interesting enough to be the focus of his attention. And the attention is intense and sweet and savage. Damn, he gives good mind. (CoreyCape)
I adore good story tellers; note, however, that a good story teller doesn't have to be an impeccable writer. Many of my friends are published authors, and many who aren't... should be. Most of my Aunts were English teachers or librarians. That means I know all about the ellipses I toss about, and you don't have to say anything about them, thank you very much.
No, I won't copy-edit your e-mails. It's fine.
I like exotic shorts the most: Borges, Kafka, Anderson (no... Laurie!), my own stories, and the better science fiction.
I would be remiss here if I listed stories on the internet without mentioning The Machine Stops. Here's a fabulous link to that world:
I enjoy movies, but grudgingly tolerate tired plots and scenes. Formula movies disappoint me. May I see a different formula for a plot, please? Primer was good. And I really like the Troma films. Also I like the TED presentations I've seen.
Music: rhythm is good. Complex rhythm that doesn't lose its pattern is better. A lead guitar that doesn't try too hard is appreciated.
Food: I love Asian food. Do you love Asian food, too? Hey, let's go out!
Last night I was sitting at a table at a potluck and a fellow across from me shook my shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Huh?" I replied. I had to open my eyes and focus. It took a couple of seconds.
"Your fingers were pressed against your forehead," he said. "You look like you have a headache or something."
"Oh, uh, no. I was just thinking."
Heck, it was one in the morning.
I'm toppy, therefore I'm kinky. My ego's not wrapped around topping, but it just fits well with my personality and turn-ons.
I move in circles where monogamy is an uncommon choice. But I don't like the poly label because it blurs sex and intimacy. They're not like a nose and a nostril, you know... you can have one without the other.
I have said "I love you" to seven people in my life so far. I did an informal survey of friends and acquaintances to see whether that was normal. It was fun to find out. The results were interesting.
Come to think of it, a nose and nostril do work best as a team.
You may message me with no motive whatsoever. It's fine to cast your net without knowing what lies under the surface. Maybe you will catch a talking fish who will grant you three wishes if you return it to the sea.
You should NOT message me if your primary interest is predatory -- and by that I mean looking for an easy sex partner or someone to save you from being single. Not a good target.
You should message me if our match score is high. So far that's translated very well into enjoying each other's acquaintance.
You should message me if you like reading or writing stories.
You should message me if you know what an ENFP is and would like one in your collection. If you're an ENFP yourself, we're very likely a high match.
You should message me if you can hold up your end in a fair exchange of banter.
You may message me if you're in transition, don't know what you want and are interested in exploring humanity in general. That's healthy and happens a lot.
If you're looking for a carousing partner, then please, let's. As for an eloquent correspondent, a playmate, a traveling companion, a partner in crime, an affectionate nap on a hot summer afternoon, an attentive audience, somebody who owns both a bicycle and a brain (good thing I was wearing a helmet!), a person who... wait a minute... was I wearing a helmet? Now I've forgotten what I was going to say...