I'm respectful, safe, sane, and kind.

I'm a nice, well-mannered, attractive professional who knows how to treat a woman.

I can recite pie to three ingredients.

I once stole a fan from Karl Lagerfeld.

I shed a tear and drank tequila when Joe Strummer died.

I have a telescope and a hammock.

I still have Doc Martens and a black leather biker jacket I bought when I was in high-school.

They still fit.

My favourite writers are Chuck Palahniuk, Kurt Vonnegut, Shaw, and Maddox.

I'm bourgeois AND progressive!

I'm a drug-free non-smoker (assuming you don't count martinis and wine as drugs!).

I know "the alphabet thing".

I sometimes wear cuff-links.

Drew Barrymore kissed me square on the lips.

I want to go climbing and paddling with some special person.

I understand what 'no' means, and just as importantly, I understand what 'yes' means.

I don't want to move in to your place or have you move into mine (perhaps leaving toothbrushes at each other's places might be acceptable after intensive background checks).

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate.

I love sushi. I mean, I could eat nothing but sushi.

If you hurry, you can actually watch my temples go grey (you really need to get the lead out on this one, though, if you want to marvel at the spectacle).

I'll stand when you enter a room.

I'll gently bite your lower lip if we kiss. I'll draw blood if that's, like, you know, what you're into.

I've been to hell and back.

I dote on my two cats.

I can make a fish-stick and instant-mash dinner that would make Wolfgang Puck vomit with envy.

I won't waste your time or jerk you around.

I have a dark past and a bright future.

I love cats, birds, and horses.

I count "Meatloaf" (the actor/singer) as a personal friend.

I'm "happily divorced" and have no dependents.

I have a "shoe thing", and it's not a fetish, okay?

I dig "difficult" music.

I think the best movies ever made are Fight Club, Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Road Warrior, Wings of Desire, Blade Runner, Taxi Driver, Magnolia, M, Blazing Saddles, Last Night, and Gangster #1.

I have an uncanny knack for estimating relative sizes in different objects by memory.

My love for you is like a truck, Berzerker!

I'm cute, fit, and honest, too.

I run three to four times per week. I hate it, but I do it.

I'll cuddle you when you're sad or sick.

I'll support you when you're wronged or slighted.

I'll cheer you when you try.

I'll eat what you bake.

I'll probably laugh when you fall on your butt; sorry, it's just that I'm a bit of a sucker for slapstick.

I'll listen when you speak.

I'll read what you write.

I'll watch your six.

I might even listen when you sing. No promises on that one, though.

I'm a guy's guy, but I know from experience that I look hot in a Chanel c-o-c-ktail dress and patent leather slingbacks.

I'm more loyal than a six-pack of Arthurian knights.

Homophobes and fundies need not apply.

What do I do for work, you ask? Stuff. I have a job.

PLEASE...be between 25 and 36, fiercely independent, and please--I beg of you--don't be a single mom (and you're still mom even if your kids are grown and gone), pretty please with sugar on it. Seriously.... It's not that I don't like children, but I just don't "get" the little monsters and I'm comfortable in the knowledge that I don't really have to learn. Plus I don't like them, or stretch marks. That's right, I'm saying what all the other guys just think. I know some of you out there, wags mostly, are saying to yourselves "holy cats, what's with this guy and single moms?" Well, it's like this. I keep receiving messages of interest from single moms, no matter how plainly I state, preemptively, that I'm just not interested. I don't know how to be more clear, so instead I've decided to be rude and obvious. But you have to admit that's better than using ALLCAPS.

I'm way too juvenile and self-involved to have kids. Aren't you glad you're learning that NOW?

Tattoos leave me cold, but I understand that I'd have more luck finding single-celled life frozen in Jovian ice-caps than finding someone who hasn't found some icon or expression she's deemed worthy to etch in permanent ink under her skin. I get that tats are the best way for everybody to assert his or her snowflake-like uniqueness in precisely the same way. I'm down with that. I can deal. I can't wait to marvel over the dolphin jumping over your navel or the Chinese character on your shoulder that you are blissfully unaware says "laundry", not "peace". If you have one on your back, I hope it bears repeated reading.

I could say that I enjoy long walks, movies, thunderstorms, music, and puppies, but who doesn't? I might as well as say "I like breathing".

I could also say that I want to meet someone who is clever, respectful, intelligent, pretty, talented, independent, loyal, financially secure, emotionally grounded, nice and who can make me laugh, but again, who doesn't want these things? Let's try this: "Hi, I'm looking to meet someone who will steal my mail, snore, cheat on me, and who looks like a Picasso". That's the kind of thing you need to be specific about, if that's what you're into, not puppies, loyalty and music, because that's what EVERYBODY ON EARTH wants.

I have very high standards in a partner, because I would rather be on my own than with someone who doesn't "get me", or who annoys me more than 49% of the time.

I hope you feel the same way.

I can be shallow and demanding; I'd be lying if I claimed I'm not.

But I will accept you for who you are, if I like you.

You should feel the same way. Soon we'll be dead, so why compromise?

My biggest fear is dying alone, but if it comes to that I suppose I could take all that discretionary income I set-aside by NOT putting ungrateful kids through some university's (popular but ultimately fruitless, vocation-wise) philosophy/medieval history programme, and hire some hot young muffin to weep at my bedside as I await the inevitable.

I'm a student of masculism, and if that bothers you we probably don't have much to discuss.

Something's wrong with this nutty thing; I was born in 1967 but it insists I was born in 1970. If it's any comfort, I look as if I was born in 1973 and act as if I was born in 2006.

I've either completely alienated you by now, or you're madly in love with me; it happens. Either way is fine with me. Indifference is meh.

Make you drink manhattans until you can successfully tie two bowline knots in the cherry stem using only your tongue and teeth. Then back to my place...

You'd be hard-pressed to top the best evening I've had lately, which was meeting Chuck Palahniuk and having him sign all my books. But I encourage you to try.