Tall BoyWonderPantsLoveThing looks to stray from "The Norm" - whatever the heck that means. What do I want? Let's leave these subtle social logistics to the dynamic between "us" or "we" (or whatever the hell the correct grammar might be and as a simple indication as to our mutual participation in all of this) and move along. What I CAN tell you is that I'm just being "good to myself" at present - taking my time. I have also been cleared to tell you that I'm a fairly decent lad: smart, good-lookin', funny, edumucated, tall (6'3") in shape, winsome, handsome (and thensome) passionate, loyal, spiritually elevated, sexually elevated,Otis elevated and just a vast home improvement store of pure, cold-pressed, undiluted, yurt-grown fun. I would just like to find myself in a situation that will not leave Yours Truly physically assaulted. Trust me - they're out there. Lest you think me some kind of hard-hearted Lothario (and isn't that a great word, "lest?") my true goals include: marriage, children,home, music room, big library, Sub-Zero (moving outside, now) 27 acres, pond, animal sanctuary, view of mountains (or forest - back inside) housekeeper, housekeeper's assistant, housekeeper's housekeepers assistant, housekeeper's housekeepers assistant's cousin, housekeeper's housekeepers assistant's cousin's butcher's cousin's bodyguard's bookie (can you tell I'm into domestic help connections?) My reason for divulging all of this? I wish to disabuse willing dately candidates of the notion that I seek anything more in the short term. I'll say it again, in Eastern terms, right now, I prance, Krishnalike, through Punjabi thistles. Ouch. A thorn. Note to self: "Stop bramble prancing."

Who am I looking for, you ask?

Well, let's see: How about a former Miss Universe with 2 Ivy PhDs and a Mother Teresa complex? I know you're out there. Failing that, I would settle for someone who does not have as good a jump-shot as I, unreliable though my jump-shot may sometimes be. Your set shot I don't care about and if you can dunk, you should be at ShaqDate, not here. Failing that, just a sweet companion; some fine, fond filly with whom to hang, y'know? I'm told I have nice hands and that I smell good and kiss even gooder. I'm switched on by intelligence and conshien, conscieensh, con..., abiding moral fiber. I will never bore you.I'm self-assured without being kocky, having recognized, early on, that there is virtue in humidity. I mean humility, but humidity, now that I think about it, does have its place in The Grand Scheme. I like sushi, dogs, and red wine though rarely in the same sentence. I'm well-read, well-traveled and, um, well, okay... well-everythinged.

I promise.

I seek someone "minxy;" a total PEACH of a woman - not a plum, not a pear, but a peach: Someone strong yet sensitive, smart yet not nefariously so, sweet but not a pushover and just, well, a peach. Of course, I might very well extend my parameters to apricots, but this would have to be one choice apricot - not the kind you find on peoples' lawns, cracked open with ants crawling all over them. Ewww. I'm not into ants - especially on smushed fruit. I'm looking for a refreshing breeze of a woman; someone who knows herself and likes who she is. Someone honest, shining, real - my ultimate match: the Yin to my Yang; the silly to my putty; the skip to my Lou? Someone "together" in the sense that she's either achieved what she wants in life or is on her way towards achieving it. Is your personality type NOT found in the DSM? That's good. I mean a little neurotic behavior here and there never hurt anyone, but we must draw a teensy line somewhere - no murder, no kidnapping, no Bush devotees, large OR small "B." Are you nice to waiters and busboys and dishwashers and gardeners and meter maids and... you get the picture. To sum: just be bright, layered and reasonably succulent and we'll get along just fine, you sexy, minxy, peachy, apricotty, mango-like creature, you. Oh, and did I mention "minxy?"


Seriously, despite the fact that I may sound a little, well, off the well-worn boulevard, here, let me assure you that I am perfectly capable of profound intimacy and love and that I have, indeed, loved and, um, intimated many times in my oft-storied past. I am reluctant to secure the referrals of ex girlfriends (I respect everyone's privacy to the nth degree) but I can tell you that I am always kind, a lot of fun, and I would never EVER besmirch you, regardless of the terms and circumstances of our parting. Besmirching can be a very nasty enterprise and, while quite enterprising, I am definitely not nasty. If anyone tries to besmirch you in any appreciable fashion, get outta there - and fast. It's a slippery slope from besmirching to vitiating and then to worser things than that that shall not be named here, lest (that word again!) they come to pass. You do not deserve to be besmirched. For those of you who do not know what I'm talking about, please read below:

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/besmirch

Now that you know what "besmirching" is, you'll know when it is being done to you and will sleep soundly tonight, knowing that I have provided a valuable public service. If you're already beyond the besmirching point, I'm sorry but you'll have to look up vitiate on your own.

Other than that, let me just say that I love you all.

I really do.

I've dated, like, a LOT, and I have learned from my vast panoply of experiences. I have come to this conclusion: For a first date it's drinks or coffee. That's it. No lengthy dinners, no running off for a two-week jaunt to Lake Titicaca. Great name, huh? Lake Titicaca. Sounds like some obscure Incan fetish. What were the Incas thinking? What were the Incas DOING? Anyway, with amiable libations, it's fun and quick and you can always continue if things are going well. If, however, you're stuck up in the high lake country of Peru, what is there to do but fend off giant, flesh-eating bugs? So... Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Warm Drambuie? Tepid rooibos? It's really about who you're hanging with, not the surroundings. I have a friend, a good friend, who learned this the hard way. He was chatting with someone online for weeks. Even after long telephone conversations, she would not send him her picture, promising he would "not be disappointed." He arranged to meet her for a late lunch at a very upscale restaurant, so fervent was his desire to impress this mysterious lass. She was "the one," he cried as I cautioned him - hourly. He asked me what I would do, hearing my every-60-minute caveats. I told him "drinks or coffee," employing the logic that two people, if they like one another, might elect to continue their shared experience, grabbing a bite or whatever, post libation. He chose not to heed my (what turned out to be) sage words and agreed to meet Princess Charming at the aforementioned palace du foodeau. He was early to the restaurant and, sitting before a street-vantage window, he glanced out, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his as-yet-unmet-beloved. Fifteen minutes pass and she's not there; the waiter's impatient heels rising off the floor, rhythmically, hands behind his back, as my buddy vamped, a little embarrassed. The upshot is, 30 minutes after their scheduled meet, he espied what he described as "a small planet - in a muu muu" lumbering down the sidewalk across the street; "the Death Star in rayon," stepping gingerly, and with some trepidation, off the curb and heading directly towards the place's entrance. "Oh, no..." under his breath. He estimated this woman's heft at not less than 400 lbs., which wasn't nearly the worst of it as he's fond of "a few extra pounds" on a woman. But THIS? Sure enough, Princess (now) alarmng, who rocked the light standards as she entered, made a b-line for the table upon entering - he'd sent HIS photo. He said, during their meal (for he pressed forward, not being a cad) that she was the most objectionable person with whom he'd ever eaten - and he'd dined with some pretty objectionable people, let me tell you; ripping, snorting, and, quite literally, grabbing things off the trays as busboys walked by - and eating them. I kid you/he kidded me not.

Apocryphal? Who knows. It's just to illustrate the point I'd made earlier...

...drinks...

...or tepid rooibos.