I was an English major in college. I play guitar and sing for an eclectic rock/punk/psychedelic band. I am into writing fiction, jamming, films, dead authors, going to places I've never been to, meeting people that will inspire me, making people laugh, challenging myself to do new things and be prolific.

I would want to be with a girl who is open to new ideas and able to be spontaneous. Honesty and a sense of humor are important too. I am interested in someone who is able to adapt and find the fun in life.

la musica: the fall, nick cave, miles davis, uk subs, trenchmouth, melt banana, teen idles, the damned, manu chao, enslaved, discharge, sunn 0))), wolf eyes, john coltrane, john lee hooker, bomba estereo, samhain, birthday party, einsturzende neubauten, brutal truth, 400 blows, black heart procession, james brown, god bullies, swans, wolf eyes, kampfar, darkthrone, public enemy, wire, etc...

writers: henry miller, celine, hubert selby jr., michel houellebecq, thom jones, thomas pynchon, roberto bolano, bukowski, rollins, etc...

Turn ons: creativity, non-conformists, intellectuals, artists, rockers, activists.
Turn offs: Republicans, racists, homophobes, unoriginal follower types.

Ever drive on the 101 and see a freeway overpass sign all tagged up? Ever wonder who does that crap? Interested? Want to skip the coffee/beer/long island/small talk and go on a mission?

Dark clothes -check. Spray paint -check. Rope, attitude, misfits cd -check, check, check.
And as we squeeze past the barbed wire and hang inches from death or imprisonment with hulking steel behemoths roaring by that could pulverize flesh and bone as easy as sand through nubile fingers we will slowly become aware of a sublime connection between us.

Your design will obscure 'Santa' with bright purple and mine will blot out parts of 'Monica' and all of 'Blvd.' with silver. And as a semi shrieks by underneath us and forces us to hang on and pause, looking into each other's eyes, we will realize that the 1st date awkwardness has been transcended into something dangerous, visceral and immediate.

And deep down we know that someday we will go on the run together. And they will hunt us with passion. Not because our crimes were extraordinary, but because of a distant longing, a jealousy of our freedom, of getting too much out of life that too many times seems barren and cold.

But of course we elude them, and over time the searches become futile and finally stop altogether. And the designs we painted on the freeway sign will have long since been 'repaired' and all trace of us extinguished, vanished except for the lingering story over the dinner table some passing motorist or trucker recounts. Of a glimpse or drunken hallucination of two shadows above the passing lights and steel carving a mark into this rented city like a romantic delusion solidifying amid the smog infested darkness.