44Vancouver, United States
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My self-summary
June 2017: As I look at these photos of me spread across years, I see two truths:

1) I still pretty much look the same, only I shave my head now.

2) Since I pretty much look the same, that means I've spent a decade looking like film noir Mr. Potato head.

My current highest match is 99.7%. Dear (nearly) perfect girl: thank God you're .3% less awful than me.
Fair warning: the older I get, the more I become like Quint from Jaws. I'm crusty, optimistic, and one scene away from being devoured by an improbable shark.

I've got three kids from a previous marriage, and they hang around with me a couple of days a week. I'm very tall, so I'll always know if the top of your bookshelf is dusty. I spent several years as a freelance game designer, and I can sling a mean plastic guitar when I bust out the PS3. I used to be a martial arts instructor, and was a sparring partner for a pro kickboxer.

I'm most interested in folks who take the meandering path, who like to dabble in all manner of activities, the better to become more well rounded. I'm fond of dreamers and thinkers, but not the sort who just sit and watch life go by. I believe in the value of the Renaissance man, and the Greek ideals of stretching mind and body equally, the better to experience life to its fullest.

I am Crow, Tom Servo, and Joel, all in one
What I’m doing with my life
You know the legend of the Sphinx, and the question it forced travelers to answer correctly, lest they be devoured alive? Well, if I were a traveler, and this were the question, I'd be well and truly fucked.

Well, not really. It makes for better reading though: the classic conflict of man against himself.
I’m really good at
I'm really quite good at telling this joke:

A priest, a rabbi and a blue whale walk into a bar. The priest walks up to the bartender and says "I believe the Lord Jesus Christ is our savior, and therefore I will have a glass of communion wine."

Then rabbi walks up to the bartender and says "I do not believe Jesus is the savior of prophecy, and therefore I will have a glass of Manischewitz wine."

Finally, the blue whale walks up to the bar and says... "ooooOOOoooOOOOoooooooooOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOooooOOoOo OoOOOOOOOoooo"

... it's a killer joke live. Trust me.
The first things people usually notice about me
Some have said I have the sweet demeanor and trustworthy face of a serial killer, but all those people died mysteriously from dental drill and/or acid bath related causes, so what did they know, anyway?

Occasionally I get comments on my neck bolts, the stitching at my joints and neck, the smell of ozone and rot that suffuses the air around me, and the mob of angry villagers with pitchforks and torches which swarms me at all times, but most folks in Portland are fairly jaded about that sort of stuff.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
The old monster movie Tarantula is directly responsible for what is, to this day, the single greatest athletic feat of my life. I was, as I recall, around 10 years old, a dumpy fat kid who didn't exercise and really didn't even go outside much. I was home alone on a Friday afternoon, and just happened to turn on the tv at the right moment to catch the beginning of Tarantula. Since I loved monster movies, I was riveted to the screen, despite the fact I was enormously, almost cartoonishly afraid of spiders at that age. Anyway, when the movie was done I was jumpy as all get out, but decided I needed to go down into the basement to fetch myself a soda. We kept them in a small room just around the corner from the stairs, so I screwed my courage to the sticking post and went down.

Now, this is a furnished basement, and it's fairly shallow with a ceiling that's above ground level. That floor above is only about 6 feet above the basement floor, and the staircase is comparatively long and shallow, being about 8 feet long and, of course, 6 feet in height. Anyway, I get to the bottom of the stairs, and turn the corner into the freezer room where the sodas are. As I'm reaching for the light, there's an enormous CRASH! directly in front of me. What had happened was a wall cabinet came loose and smashed to the floor. But it was dark in there, and my 10 year old brain instantly went "ENORMOUS SPIDER COME FOR MY JUICES!!!!", and so I flipped full on fight or flight. I, in one smooth motion, pirouetted my big fat ass in a 180 degree arc, planted a foot on the bottom step, and cleared the entirety of the basement staircase in a single bound, slamming into the couch halfway across the room on the ground floor. I suspect I screamed like a goat at a chupacabra gang bang, but my mind was blank to such trivial details.

The next year, my mom bought me a Universal Monsters lunchbox, which had a picture of the melty face Doctor from Tarantula. The brief flashback was not pleasant. :P
Six things I could never do without
The nostalgia tinted memories of my father

My children, except when they piss me off

My brain - I've tried, but no matter how he batters me, I still just take him back

Friendship, I guess.

A nice green tarp - the comfortable topper for an evening ensemble, and a great conversation piece! When you've a green tarp, the sky is the limit. Blue tarpers can fuck right off, though.

Hell, I don't know. I'll say Doctor Who. Why not?
I spend a lot of time thinking about
3, it's a magic number.

Stories and failure, and how those are sometimes intertwined.

My past life as a two headed carnival barker. Well, actually, a two headed guy who barked at passing carnivals. Life was hardscrabble in those days.
On a typical Friday night I am
Brooding in the Batcave. I don't actually own it: I'm part of a timeshare co-op.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I was carved from a single block of wood, by the loving hands of an elderly Italian gentleman. There were many adventures to be had: I made friends with a fox, learned about morality from an insect in a top hat, and was even swallowed by an enormous whale! It wasn't all wonderful, though, because I got tricked into going to Pleasure Island, where I succumbed to decadence, mostly in the form of smoking enormous cigars and shooting pool. I eventually grew donkey bits, which doesn't really make much sense because wooden puppet, ya know? I didn't even get the good bits of donkey anatomy, because who makes a marionette anatomically correct?


Anyway, it all worked out in the end, and I learned a valuable lesson or two. Though I'm sort of hazy on what those lessons are, to be honest. Something to do with billiards, probably. Maybe top hats. Or whales.

This whole story is true, I swear it on the grave of my mother, who isn't actually dead, but is getting on towards retirement age. And that's the sort of honesty you can take to the bank!
You should message me if
1) You like neck bolts, were secretly pleased to have been called mad at the university, and a swarm of villagers with torches and the enthusiastic will to brandish them intrigues you.

2) You have mad fresh beats, and can sell a rhyme that includes the phrases Grape Ape and mix tape.

3) You're interested in meeting someone who's sported more than one identifiably foot-shaped bruise on his face.
The two of us