I can work a bullwhip and juggle.
I know how to tie a bow-tie. And a cherry stem (*wink* *wink*).
I write good poetry and great letters.
I sport significant scars from significant events.
I'm smart and funny and funny and handsome and nice and funny and nice. And I’m not always nice.
I've got a real cute butt.
I like to think I’ve learned my lesson.
My handwriting is legible.
I am a P3 USHPA rated paraglider pilot. So, yeah -- I can fly.
I am slightly thelyphthoric. I know what "thelyphthoric" means.
I can quote William Shakespeare and Eddie Izzard and I know how to eat fire.
I go camping at least 20 times a year. And it's almost always hard to get there.
I do not own a cell' phone, subscribe to cable television or shop at WalMart.
I'm open and honest, devoted and loyal and not at all afraid of committment; actually, I yearn for committment (I know -- this clearly violates the basic but unspoken rule: "never use the word 'yearn' in an online profile." But I yearn; what are ya gonna do?)
I'm one of the good guys.
Kids love me like you wouldn't believe.
When I say "I'm world famous", I'm actually telling the truth; it's pretty silly actually and you're encouraged to make fun of me (apparently I'm huge in Germany...)
Not only do I like long walks on the beach, get this: I actually take them.
I make the best French Toast in the history of bread.
I love to talk about what's wrong. And about what's right.
I never confuse "there" with "their" or "they're."
I prefer playing chess to watching football.
I know which shoes to wear, but I don't always wear them.
I have a fetish for small towns and main streets. And maybe toes.
I like words and I'm not afraid to use them.
I've been an actual cowboy.
I love my parents and my parents love me and not because they have to.
I haven't the slightest idea who won the World Series last year. Or, come to think of it, the Super Bowl.
I have really great friends.
I have secret passageways in my library.
I have a library.
I crave intimacy above all else; seriously, ABOVE ALL ELSE.
You flat-out won't believe your luck.
I've been waiting for someone remarkable.

08/07 ADDENDUM: A particularly critical ex-girlfriend has noted that my French toast may not actually be the “best…in the history of bread.” My response is that if you happen to be eating it, you’ve probably spent the night and I was counting on a couple of extra points on account of the after-glow. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

11/08 ADDENDUM: OK, so a few months ago I got a cell phone. Don't tease me; I actually lost sleep over it for a couple of days. Still, I had to come clean about it. Apparently it's a real deal-breaker for some folk...

12/08 ADDENDUM: FULL DISCLOSURE -- Turns out, I'm a full 5 years older than my advertised age. Bad advice led me to deflate my age by a couple of years. "Everyone does is," she said, "and it will boost your search hits. Besides, you look so much younger." Bad move? You bet! Youthful optimism? Sure! At any rate, now I wish to return to the straight and narrow BUT THE DAMNED SITE WON'T LET ME CHANGE MY AGE! Seriously: try it right now. Close this profile and try to change your own age. Can't do it, can you? I'm sorry that I'm 44; believe me, no one is more upset about it than I. But I'd like at least 3 bonus points for coming clean. Try not to hold it against me; if it helps, I promise I'm really quite immature for my age...

08/09 ADDENDUM: I'm going to bounce back and forth between Las Vegas and Marina Del Rey for a while; I'm spending 4 days in LV, 3 days in MDR just lately. So catch me where you can.

09/09 ADDENDUM: Dear Vroom-vroom Girls: Me = kayaks over jet-skis; mountain bikes over ATVs; sailboats over powerboats; hang-gliders over airplanes; camping over NASCAR. Just thought you should know. And ladies: if you have a tattoo anywhere on either breast, believe me when I say you won't like me.

Let's talk about you for a minute: You're a clever one, you are. You are more interesting than your clothing. And your clothing is HOT. You probably know how beautiful you are, but you think it's kind of funny in an ironic sort of way. Of course, that doesn't stop you from laughing in the face of that mullet-headed guy that tries a line on you at the bar. You pull your pony-tail through the band of your baseball cap when you go hiking, but you know how to walk in high heels. You finally got tired of pretending to be vapid so that men would like you. You didn't have to look up the word "vapid." You're more Garafalo than Jolie. You like to argue, but you don't care to fight. You like the theatre. And the pancakes at Denny's. And Thai food. Even though I’ve already got a couple of best friends, it’s really you and I tell you all the really good stuff I can’t say to the boys. You're not afraid of showing some cleavage, and maybe you goosed a complete stranger once, just for fun. You have cats, maybe, or a dog, yet you're still unafraid of and willing to try the meat in Korea. You know the difference between good poetry and a diary entry -- maybe you write some of each. Often, you're smarter than I am.

08/07 ADDENDUM: It has recently come to my attention that I am a sucker. In the past, it had never occurred to me to express a need for honesty, loyalty and reliability; aside from the fact that these are qualities I also look for in a good hound-dog, it always struck me as patently absurd to point out what I thought was obvious.

03/09 ADDENDUM: (09? Really? Jesus...) Just to save time, we will probably not get along if you are A: a smoker; 2: a stripper; or iii: a god-worshipper. I'm not sayin' nothin'; I'm just sayin'...