I have a tendency to find things that I like and stick with them, despite coveting something new to draw me out of the world I know. I hold my friends closer than a microphone on a night of drunken karaoke. But maybe that's just because I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by people who spit electricity, shit fire, and laugh at the profundity of the universe.
I love the words picnicking and frolicking, despite the fact that I rarely do either of them.
I'm married, and it is, quite frankly, the shit. But my wife and I both love going off, meeting new people, and making a variety of fancy quiches with them. So, I'm not going to have your baby. But I'm also not just in search of the next quick fuck.
If you're good people, I'm game for anything. However, if the mention of open relationships makes your last meal repeat, you probably don't want to contact me. Except to tell me how sexy I look with moustache.
I am self-castigating, secretly ambitious, and minty fresh
I'm also making things up. A lot. Some people would call that improvising. In fact, most of the people with whom I share a stage on a regular basis would call it improvising. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I call it improvising, too. But only because I want to fit in with the rest of the cool kids.
When I'm not improvising, I'm usually ... wondering why I'm not improvising. I may look like I'm working on web developing, jogging, biking, playing ultimate, reading about video games (because who has time to actually play them?), playing ukulele, watching baseball, writing long lists delineated by commas, or baking assorted delicious treats for the mouth. But I'm really still thinking about improv. I'll probably get over it. Eventually.
Not having read regularly for a long time, I mostly have fond memories of things like 1984, The Great Gatsby, and T.S. Eliot. However, my library card still gets decent use, albeit mostly for books about food (less so since I finally just bought On Food and Cooking) and theatre. I occasionally sneak in some miscellaneous fiction (most recently: Steven Millhauser, William Gibson), but I won't pretend that I can keep up with you on the latest recommendations from the NYT, Powell's, or whatever it is that you literate people pay attention to.
The Room, of course.
I mostly like the beeps and boops. Growing up, it was Depeche Mode, Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, New Order. That shifted into New Order, Nitzer Ebb, Orbital, BT, The The, and Recoil, among others. And now it's Simian Mobile Disco, Caribou, The Bird and The Bee, Trentemøller, Elbow, and a thousand other things that clutter hard drives and grey matter. Much to my own dismay, I've never been a huge lyrics man. Here and there, the words strike a chord, but largely it's just about a feeling, about sound inducing resonant emotion.
I don't know if there's a food that I don't like, though crunchy cauliflower kind of freaks my shit out. That said, the thought of cumin makes my mouth water. Especially with citrus. I've been stopped dead in the middle of the produce section by the smell of cilantro as it's being restocked. The memory makes me swoon a little in my boy parts. Only boys have stomachs, right?
And lunch meat! Be mine, turkey.