Hello. Hi there.
May our eggs share the same nest, or whatever the local customary thing to say is, this is it.
I hope to be starting off on the right foot with you (left one's always gettin' me in trouble, yah!), so I'll tell you right where I'll begin. Why be answerin' a personal ad any-way? What's wrong with me?
OK. Fair enough. I started out nice, with a little salutation, and now you want an accounting of all my faults. Well, hmmn. Not going to give it to you.
I don't have gangrene or leprosy (HIV+ or -). I have been celibate for over a year, through circumstance not choice, but all things considered, through choice, by not choosing to do anything about it. Well, anyway, I never have been "promiscuous," to say the least.
Who fricken cares? I'd love to have a wonderful relationship (sex included), but I don't really want to hope for anything at this point. To hope for something is to be disappointed. To be disappointed, I know a lot. I do believe I am sounding negative again, and I swore I'd be presentin' myself nice today.
Hello. Forgive me, entirely. I am a bit down on myself, and The Personal Ads, and The Dating Scene in General, oh, but not life.
I would be oh so happy if I could just meet a nice female person I could relate to and be a part of their lives, not in the way that catfood might be, but in a real, milk sort of way. I mean we could nurture the relationship, you know, like a cactus.
We could bike ride together and eat picnic lunches on islands remote and dangerous, or sit around and drink coffee, or talk about The Future, or just shut up and look in each others eyes (but not like psychos or anything).
I don't know that people do that any more. Do they hold hands? Is there kissing? I know there's sex, I mean, I suppose there is. Sex is just too dangerous to be talked about mildly. It's like talking about a gun. It's negative. Too negative. Let's not talk of it at all right now.
I'd rather fantasize and speculate as to what your eyebrows might look like. Your nose. Your chin. Your shin. Your grin. 'S that a sin?
What am I some rhyming kind of idiot? OK. We're OK. Got it all out of my system. Now. Let's get introductions straight, since you think I'm on drugs. And I'm not, by the way. They're on me. They're all over me! Get ' em off! Get ' em off!
My name is Andrew. I have many other personalities, but you need only know of this one 'cause the others all go out and report to demons and commit grave crimes and bury people by the side of the road. Ahem. But besides all the killin', I is a real nice man, whom you should think about dating.
F'rinstance, though I am an axe murderer and a junkie, I have a big heart and can be a good loyal friend. And although I belong to the gay Rasta Nazi biker Vietnam vets for Jesus, my politics don't get in the way of my religion (ZEN/Krishna/Satanastrianism).
Sufficient background? Now can we be intimate? Oh, come on! Hell, please?
Oh, awright. But right now I gotta go. No,really. You want to talk any further than this, you goin' to have ta put another dime in the meter. No hangin' around this Seven-Eleven. Keep movin', gotta keep movin'.
Um, give me a call. If you're bored and want to be more so, only with company.
Nawww.
343-2372 Andrew (Hoody) Paul Golding
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.