The Revenge of the Ideal Personal Ad

You can also read older versions going back to 1989, if you like…

If, on the other hand, you’d like to complain about something I’ve said, why not just skip it? An email appeal is not likely to make me change my mind and suddenly decide that I’m just crazy about speed freaks nor make me a Republican, now is it?

What I Am:

  • 37 years old, both younger and older in spirit and appearance, depending on the time of day, with weight increasingly less proportionate to height.
  • Plaid-acting and appearing.
  • Pretty far left politically, but with a significant lack of tolerance for pseudo-intellectual warm and fuzzy liberal bullshit.
  • Bitter and cynical, but generally a nice guy unless I’m given reason not to be.
  • Somehwat lethargic and sometimes even inert.
  • Sometimes self-centered and often self-indulgent.
  • Fond of my car and of road trips.
  • Fond of transit and urban walks.
  • More likely to shop at Target than at Macy’s.
  • An avid reader of non-fiction and student of urban history, sociology, and architecture and commercial archaeology.
  • A half-assed writer.
  • Moderately profane.
  • Independent and fetishistic about privacy and having abundant time alone.
  • Convinced that Fresno, Baltimore, and Detroit may well be (or should be) the actual cultural centers of the US.
  • Both intrigued and repulsed by the generic; an often-bemused observer of the everyday banalities of life.
  • The kind of person who should probably be a career graduate student.
  • Currently fighting hyperthyroidism and nicotine addiction.
  • A veritable font of useless information and trivia.
  • Very much into bullet points lately, for some reason.

What I’m Not:

  • Obsessed with my sexual orientation or with “being gay“, “gay movies”, “gay websites”, “the gay community” or any other such claptrap.
  • A closet case.
  • Into leather, drugs, or dance clubs.
  • Vegetarian.
  • Patient with assholes, bad drivers, and other idiots, nor with spoiled children and the parents who made them that way.
  • A workaholic, upscale yuppie drone.
  • The inhabitant of a particularly stylish abode.
  • On the cutting edge of technology.
  • Inclined to pay 60 grand for a car just because I can. By the way, I can’t.
  • An athlete or customer of any gym.
  • Fond of nature, hiking, camping, or the “great outdoors”.
  • Religious or spiritual.
  • A Republican or Libertarian.
  • Convinced that all intelligent life ends at the San Francisco city line.
  • Particularly moved by poetry.
  • A wine connoisseur nor a consumer of coffee which costs more per cup than lunch at Burger King.
  • Sad to see San Francisco’s economy collapsing nor the yuppies fleeing.
  • Comfortable in crowds or at parties.
  • Amused by conspiracy theories.
  • Likely to become any of the above.

What You Are:

  • Unpretentious.
  • Close to my age, maybe a bit younger, definitely not too much older. Call me shallow. I don’t care.
  • Maybe a little geeky or dorky, probably somewhat shy and soft-spoken, and a bit of a loner.
  • Probably more “east coast” in attitude and outlook.
  • Intellectually healthy but still inclined toward more lowbrow cultural pursuits.
  • A diner freak, and I don’t mean Mel’s or Johnny Rocket’s.
  • A Simpsons fan who can recite dialogue from memory on a regular basis.
  • Someone who values the written word.
  • A little disshevelled-looking and not impeccably groomed.
  • More likely to use MacOS or even Unix than that other, inferior Microsloth product.
  • Able to love a tape which might include the Buzzcocks and Ella Fitzgerald, back to back.
  • Comfortable with the idea of agreeing to go to lunch one day and ending up at some dive 150 miles away because I “felt like driving”.

What You Aren’t:

  • A snob who never admits to watching TV, eating junk food, or watching porn.
  • A professional homosexual who has substituted a sexual orientation for an actual personality.
  • A speed freak, pothead, practicing alcoholic, or any other variant who relies on chemicals to have a good time.
  • A gym rat, a disco bunny, or a sweater queen.
  • A touchy-feely granola who uses the term “negative energy” without irony.
  • Someone who has a shrill, politically-programmed response to every utterance including “it’s a nice day today”.
  • Cocky, arrogant, loud, or inclined to describe yourself as “masculine” or (spare me) “straight-acting”.
  • A workaholic, upscale yuppie drone.
  • Unnaturally muscled or into that whole cologne thing.
  • Morbidly obese or so into “natural” scents that you never bathe.
  • A Republican or Libertarian.
  • An “entourage” type who must always be surrounded by lots of other people.
  • Someone who would ever make me listen to techno, “new country”, or Mariah Carey around the house.
  • A fan of “Friends”.
  • Annoyed by an individual who is a veritable font of useless information and trivia.
  • Annoyed by bullet points.

Comments are closed.