Male

33

I'm a motherfucking laughing curmuddegon, a non-practicing hermit, and a personality whore with a penchant for the ladies. I hate people as much as I love them, and I'm as likely to spill my guts on a whim as I am to not talk with my close friends for days on end. I love the limelight and the attention, but I can't stand the guilt I feel for digging it so much. I laugh too loud, I slap people on the back, I jerk off too much, I read less poetry than I write, I do more art than I think I do, I work nights and drink whiskey in the morning. I barbecue like I got the devil inside of me, I am a professional bullshitter that talks so slick sometimes I believe the lines, I'm failing at a secret mission to save the planet, I'm a dying rockstar that's never seen the stage, I'm a tattoo on Steven Jesse Bernstein's knuckle, I am the perfect likeness of a urban buddha, I'm on the road to being healthy, but I've still got a hundred miles to go, I believe the word "man" is most often used wrong, I'm the motherfucker that's gonna put this planet on it's ear (or I'm comming back in my next life as a cockroach). I tie up the women I'm intimate with, and I eat pussy with a snorkeling tube. I dance in my room, I curse too much, I wear a suit like a swinger when they take me to the goth club, and that's the only club I ever go to (I dream about Bluesville, though I haven't seen the inside for years). My mother was a sweet little hippie-chick, my father was a gun-toting hustler, the brothers and sisters (and cousin) I grew up with were all loving pit bull terriers, and to top it off, I was raised by a depressed genius who survived vietnam. I talk too much, I see beauty everywhere, I'm a desperado who's committed little to no crime. I'm told I've got arms like watermelons, and balls that are too big. I'm running out of words to say, and more than half of these don't REALLY say shit about me.