| slybandit :
Mostly Underwhelming |
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| City |
Montreal Quebec |
| Area |
Canada |
| Ethnicity |
Caucasian |
| Sign |
Aquarius |
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Height | 6' 0" (183 cm)
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| I am Seeking a |
Woman
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Who is Looking
for |
Dating |
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| Smoker? |
No |
| Do you drink? |
Socially |
| Marital Status |
Single |
| Profession |
Lawyer |
| Smarts |
Masters degree |
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| Do you want children? |
Undecided/Open |
| Do you do drugs? |
No |
| Do you have children? |
No |
| Do you have a car? |
No |
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| | About Me |
| | CAVEAT: CURRENTLY DATING SOMEONE WITH POTENTIAL, ERGO, THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.
So you’ve probably read a few of these so-called “profiles” by now, right? Let me guess at your reaction: “Pride springs eternal.”
If all the guys on here were as brilliant, ambitious, outgoing, hilarious, resourceful, athletic, spontaneous, creative, romantic, vertically advantaged and all-around-studly as is generally claimed, would they be on a (free) website posting things to anonymous women they have never met ? No, they’d be at Buena Notte or Queue de Cheval, in a three thousand dollar suit, doing a James Bond act with the waiter about the vintage Cabernet, and debating the relative merits of morels or shittake mushrooms to dance their “ballet of flavour” with a $75 Kobe steak. The only use we’d have for a computer is remotely managing the trades in our hedge-fund from the beach in Bali.
Just like every other guy on here, I’m sitting in front of the computer with PoF on, nursing the delusion that I’ll hook up with that elusive stunning blue-green-eyed strawberry blonde bestselling author, who has finally gotten tired of dating those manipulative wealthy playboys (READ: "securities prosecution defendants") who talk to her perfect chest instead of offering up the knee-weakening intimacy, emotional commitment and long soulful glances she so richly deserves. (Intimacy which, naturally, will be rewarded with regular “sessions” at my 2 ½ near Atwater, involving an array of fun outfits that would make Hugh Hefner blush and delivered with enough intensity to break Peyton Manning’s hips.)
What makes me different, however, is that I’m willing to at least try to anchor my ship to reality for a second and see if anyone with a sense of humour wants to come on board. (Sorry to dash your hopes by not passing up the opportunity for the pirate booty reference. Just imagine I look like Johnny Depp, and it'll sound charming instead of stupid.)
I was considering trying to meet some woman on Lavalife, when I realized that four years worth of student loans had first dibs on my paycheque, so I thought I’d try this out. Hey, the start up capital compares favorably with buying random women random drinks in some random bar, right?
I’m a 35 year old overworked lawyer, seeking a passably hot smart(-ass) young woman who will laugh at my excuse for a sense of humour, join me on short jaunts to the video store where we will argue the relative merits of incomprehensible foreign romance flicks or standup comedy specials as preludes to make-out sessions on the couch, and send me mushy emails at work. And no, you don't have to be a best-selling author, but it would help if you'd actually read something other than the latest issue of Cosmo, a Harlequin romance, required reading for class, (UPDATE: or your bankruptcy filings), in, say, the last year or so.
If you have a dog, that would be great. If you have a cat, that would be great... provided you don't mind having your date look like he has a case of hay fever after contacting anything in your apartment for more than 5 minutes. If you have a fish...well, you are entitled to fair warning that the last fish entrusted to my care barely made it a few weeks.
I have no car, no plans on getting one anytime soon, and I make a bit more than $ 52K a year (ECON UPDATE: for "more", read "less"), not that you’ll be on the receiving end of much of that largesse for a while (UPDATE: read: "the foreseeable future").
If nursing the hope of eventually striking it rich (or striking it middle-class) in some as-yet-undefined business counts as driving ambition in your books, I’m the guy for you !
I'm actually looking for long term, but that's obviously more than a bit too intense to put on here right away, so you have to date me first. Ah, who's kidding whom, you have to meet me first, to reassure yourself that your catty friends won't laugh at you behind your back for seeing me, right?
UPDATE: Rather than tell you what I'm looking for in a woman, I'll go with what I'm *not* looking for. If you see yourself anywhere in the two following ads, go trouble someone else's life, please.
ADVERT #1:
Are you a hard drinking woman? Got a bad habit of strutting through dodgy neighbourhoods while plastered and wearing seven hundred bucks’ worth of designer whatsits? Casual drunk to full blown alcoholic, if you’ve ever sobered up long enough to think picking up some self-defence training might be a good idea, we have the place for you.
Cosmos Dojo is the answer to your prayers (well, other than the usual one you make to have the hangover go away). At Cosmos dojo you will learn the fine art of bar and street fighting from Mistress Tera, one of the nation’s premiere trouble drunks. Mistress Tera has been banned Montreal-wide from such fine establishments as Winnies, Thursdays, the Bifteck and that French place that advertises sterilized glasses. She has a Gucci belt in the “Ladies Room cut-eye”, “Get away from my man, sl*t” and “You stole my drink, fatass” unarmed styles, but is also quite skilled in high heel fu.
Mistress Tera will take you from the lippy little lush you are now, to a true liability for any man in a mere 6 weeks. Intensive training will cover such varied areas of self-defence as “Prairie Fires: from Heartburn to Facial Burns”, “Beer Bottles: Breaking her head without breaking a nail”, “Movie Fu: the Lit Cigarette Flick” and “Haulin’ Ass Outa Here”. Classes will be held on a rotating basis wherever the best ladies night is happenin’, with Fridays reserved for the finer points of instigating fights between sexy-*ss males at sausage fest nightclubs. You’ll come to class, get wasted, and mix it up with like-minded ladies in the best fierce and female fight club around. Mistress Tera will show you the alcoholic alley to the true self-confidence that only comes from being a trained drunk fighter. This class is a true must have! It’s priced to own, at $69.95 per week, with a discount if you come in an outfit trashy enough to pull free drinks from the boys.
ADVERT #2:
After perusing profile after profile from debonair and studly males looking for deep and meaningful relationships (and/or frequent spankings by an attractive woman willing to dress like their 8th grade science teacher), you've decided all you really want is a pretend relationship: to be able to communicate via email with a fun guy, about interesting things that did not happen to you.
You don't want to share names or accurate personal data, all you really want is a man who will never ask to call you, ask to meet you, or even ask for your bank account number so as to help a troubled ex-Nigerian-government official out of a temporary jam. All you need is a soulful, intense emotional "connection" to something other than reality. |
| | First Date |
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A witty email with no pics gets a semi-witty email back. A witty email with pics gets a 20 minute effort to impress you over caffeine. A witty email with o.k. pics gets dinner and drinks at the mid-range resto-bar of your choice (Sigh. Yes, I will pay, unless you are feeling particularly feminist (or overpaid) lately). For cute pics, I’ll even dress up and attempt the James Bond act. Any vague resemblance to the above-described love goddess and/or an uncontrollable attraction to somewhat Scandinavian-looking guys with blue eyes and deep voices, gets dinner and drinks at Buena Notte, but you’ll have to give to give me time to get to know you better (read: save up a couple paychecks.)
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slybandit has 2 roses that can be sent. |
 Mail Settings (To message slybandit you MUST meet the following criteria.) |
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Must not be looking for Intimate Encounter
Must not be married
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