I'm 100% Italian, and yes, my nose was worth every penny. I'm short and work at keeping my weight down; whatever I can't keep off, I have a doctor take off for me. I don't have any tats, the piercings come and go and scars will fade. My idea of growing old gracefully is having an artist for a plastic surgeon. Don't judge - never had a sugar daddy pay for my vanity and will never need one.
I'm not interested in a long distance relationship so if you're over 30 minutes from the SFV then move on because I'm not willing to make the drive. If you think that because I can afford to spoil myself you just found a sugar momma, then move on; If you cannot afford to live my lifestyle with me, I am not interested in you. If you think playing the lotto is planning for our retirement then move on; you have no future with me. I love my career and stay at the office late only to come home for a small break and then work with my Hong Kong team late into the night. It would be nice if you had workaholic tendencies fueled by ambition too. Maybe we can conquer the world together.
I prefer short hair on men; grey or bald is fine, but if you're going bald then be bald. The 70's comb-over is not fooling anyone. A mild Buddha-belly is adorable and a lumber-jack build is terrific. Tall and lanky, short and skinny, and pear-shaped need not apply. I tend to prefer men 5-15 years older than me, but am willing to date someone my own age or younger as long as he's mature. However, if you're 45 and still a frat boy, I'm not interested in you either. I've done the inter-racial thing and not willing to go there again, so if you're not white, don't bother - sorry. Blame the Japanese - not only did they bomb Pearl Harbor but they also bombed my tolerance for dating non-Caucasians.
I enjoy shooting pool, throwing darts, board/card games, horse racing and an occasional evening of torturous karaoke. Want to get me outdoors? Take me camping, fishing, off-roading, or hunting. I'm intelligent, assertive and witty. I sometimes come across as uptight and anti-social, but I'm actually a delinquent always ready for a laugh. I have slight tomboyish qualities, usually am in pants and heels and I go easy on the makeup.
I enjoy peaceful nights at home but can also appreciate an evening out with family, friends, or as a couple. The only sports I like to watch are nascar and boxing. If your weekend revolves around watching sports, then move on.
I do not tolerate liars. If you have kids or own a business/home, then you are too old to still be playing games; grow up. If your kids are not grown yet, then move on; I'm not willing to be a reason your kids need therapy.
I need someone that is forthright and sincere; accountable for his actions; willing and able to help himself and not wait for others to help him; someone with intelligence; dark sense of humor; strong work ethic and strong sex drive; financial security; ability to dress appropriately; basic computer and problem solving skills; some type of mechanical inclination; and accepts that I come with four puppies. Having the courtesy to send flowers after the first time I put out is a must.
At work I have to take charge and be the one with the answers, so I'd rather you wear the pants and handle things at home. I believe in traditional (pre-60's) gender roles, the man opening the door, and walking on the street side of the sidewalk. Never had complaints about my female duties. The Leave It to Beaver gender roles get left at the bedroom door, though. I consider sex at least 50% of a relationship and should always be an evolving adventure. However, monogamy is a must. And don't be fooled by my outspoken nature regarding sex; If you're looking for a booty call or a new swinging partner then move on - I'm not interested.

My idea of a first date would start on a Saturday morning at Alvarado Street where we would acquire fake IDs. Then we visit a Lexus dealership and after pretending to want to buy a SC430, taking the salesman on a test drive, stuffing his body into the trunk and then stealing the car, we would enjoy a quiet drive along PCH (assuming the sound of the salesman screaming and pounding on the trunk isn't too loud, of course). Around noon we would find a fabulously posh restaurant along the coast, dine on lobster and drink ridiculously expensive wine before we inconspicuously dash out on the bill. Then we would stop by the Church of Scientology to take the super cool personality and IQ tests. After learning how Scientology can help us with all our problems, we would visit an adoption agency and attempt to adopt an 17.5 year old child. Upon getting escorted out of the adoption agency, we would then proceed to the La Brea Tar Pits, where we would go skinny dipping in the beautiful street-side pond where the big plastic elephants like to gather. We would wrap up the evening at a Burger King where we would order Big Macs and insist that we can have it our way. You and the Lexus salesman (still in the trunk) would drop me off at my place, at which time I would thank you for a lovely date with a hand shake and suggest a location to dump the car and salesman.