Sold. However..
As some of you may also know, the gift of self-promotion is not one that I possess. I don't have the sales gene, and while I can bluster on about anything other than me, it's immediately all manage-expectations the second the spotlight flips on. I've already come to terms with the fact that I will probably be mired forever in a lower middle class slot despite all my obvious other gifts, and after signing up on the site, form followed that all I got was crickets. I mean, I've had people drop by, but crickets, not that I've been trying that hard. In other words, it would probably be best to turn to Julian Assange.
Yes, That Julian Assange. The one with the crazy face and white thinning warlock hair. Rat lips. Who in a photo in The New Yorker looked like the albino from Foul Play.
But apparently he had some success. Or at least the bombast to pull off a ... memorable profile. And since I'm not looking to go all Charlie from "It's Always Sunny...," this is probably the best place to start.
Hence, Julian Assange, let's use you as a muse. Or rather, template.
His summary:
WARNING: Want a regular, down to earth guy? Keep moving. I am not the droid you're looking for. Save us both while you still can.
Passionate, and often pig headed activist intellectual seeks siren for love affair, children and occasional conspiracy.
Such a woman should [be] spirited and playful, of high intelligence, though not necessarily formally educated, have spunk, class & inner strength and be able to think strategically about the world and the people she cares about.
I like women from countries that have sustained political turmoil. Western culture seems to forge women that are valueless and inane. OK. Not only women!
Although I am pretty intellectually and physically pugnacious I am very protective of women and children.
I am DANGER, ACHTUNG, and ?????????????
Okay, so I get the charm. A self-deprecating geek with a semi-messianic complex. Or at least a good deal of chauvinism. I can deal with that. It's almost me.
My turn.
Self summary:
MANUFACTURER'S NOTE: Want a slightly deranged, delusional, needy prick who is simply looking for friends to suck the life out of? Well that's not here (and that baggage is merely a flesh wound). I am a droid. Maybe even the one you're looking for.
Dispassionate whiskey-swiller, the antithesis of everything that is hipster fresh in the news, is seeking a harpy for which to engage in smattering unflattering conversation, maybe an affair and to laugh at someone else's criminal children.
Such a woman [should] be quasi-spiritual -- but not in a batshit crazy way -- not be afraid to pay for dates, and be completely comfortable with the finer contradictions of The Irresponsible Self. She should also be a classy woman who says "Fuck" a lot, and will incorporate that and the "c" word into her existential novel about a small white girl coming of age on antarctic McMurdo Station.
Do I need a woman who travels? Not so much, as traveling seems to bring out the greatest pretension in Western Civilization. But being stuck in a city like New York does seem to bring out the whole hen-roost thing, too. Okay. Maybe not just women.
Although at heart I can come across as physically and intellectually truculent, really I'm just the Rolo that sealed your pocket shut.
I do like to control the HORIZONTAL. And MAYBE even the vertical.
...
!!!!!!!!!!!
And there. Now I feel like I need to bathe, shower, and be nervous about my previously printed "Registered Sex Offender" T-shirts.
