33Los Angeles, United States
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My self-summary
I'll be frank and then launch into the rest of my facetious 'profile'; I'm looking for somebody with a kind face, since that's all we have to go on here.

Okiedoke, read my nonsense now:

Some dating advice given to me by a female friend:

"Always go with: my sister -- the chemist who worked at a dildo factory -- thinks I'm a real catch."

...because there is nothing less awkward to start a conversation with than connecting dildos with family. Ninety percent of the time its a razor, anyway.

I am seriously not cut out for online dating.
What I’m doing with my life
I have a Ph. D.
In chemistry.

Beat that, ya bunch'a braggarts!
I’m really good at
You can get at least pretty good at almost anything you dedicate your mind and energy towards. I seem to recall Malcolm Gladwell making a bit of a stink about that (aside: I'm not a fan. I mean... he gave a TED talk. *shudder*).

I tear things apart and fix them as a hobby.

Oh, and I can cook.
The first things people usually notice about me
"You look like Harry Potter."

Fuck you, no I don't!
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
Books: Anything that was written before I was born.

Movies: zombies. anything from the 70's. I secretly cry at romantic comedies. Don't judge.

TV: that's still a thing? Does Game of Thrones count?

Music: Sometimes I dance in the grocery store.
I love me some Hall & Oates. And Stevie Wonder. Also... lots of random indie.

Food: meat, cheese, beer and coffee
Six things I could never do without
oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus (in order of percent by mass)

Is this supposed to be ironic?
I spend a lot of time thinking about
I get very excited when the time in the clock reads either 1:28, 2:56, 5:12, or 10:24.

My excitement, however, does not double. It's capped at 1/32 of that in firmware.


Coconut oil, like most vegetable oils, is condom safe. The more you know...
On a typical Friday night I am
saying insane things to people I met randomly. It's an under-rated hobby.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I grew up near a dairy farm. To this day, the smell of cow shit makes me think of ice cream. This is more useful than it might sound.
You should message me if
Raging alcoholics preferred. Depressive alcoholics acceptable.

But, anyways, I never really know what to write in this section.

(Dictated but not read)
The two of us