Oh I'm definitely relationship material. I won an argument on the interwebs.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fast-forward to the next profile for the gratuitous cleavage shot, duh.

ME: Urbane hillbilly; outgoing introvert; agnostically devout. All this, plus I've practically elevated picking up stuff with my toes to an art form. YOU: Smart; a slightly twisted sense of humor; goal-oriented and optimistic. Extra points if you're an equestrian pilot who can teach me to swear in Italian. Stronza!! Vaffanculo!! Let's start there and discover the rest. No perverts, please. You know who you are.

UPDATE: I'm here mainly for the forums. It's like the Jerry Springer Show, but without the shouting. Sorta restores my faith in the human race. In cyberspace, no one can hear you scream. LOL. I tried to pick "Single/Not Looking" but apparently this option is not available. Not sure I'm interested in dating... because somehow, while I wasn't looking, "dating" morphed into something like "ma'am, here's a bag of condoms and a CVS card; in what order would you like to use these?" All reasonable options for intelligent life in my neck of the woods have been exhausted (well, that didn't take long!). If you think not... well then, let 'er rip! Even better, I'd welcome the opportunity to emigrate to New Zealand. Hey my passport is burning a hole in my back pocket. Indiana, more than just a state fair.

I have a demanding career that keeps my rear tied to a desk, a phone, a computer, and business-class airline seats, but I'd rather be outdoors... preferably doing something that involves horses, a totally sweet digital SLR, a kayak, or airplane noise. I never met a dirt road I didn't like. I'm looking for a man so dang fine he'll call me sweetiepie (hopefully, not followed by "get me a beer") and mean it.... a bona-fide character with a sense of unpretentious class as well as vision and imagination, and a desire to reach out. Plus if you've got an old truck or an old tractor that I could drive around I think I'd be pretty much glazed over for about a week. ;)

As a libertarian, I occasionally find myself totally obsessed with politics but not so much so that it interferes with my ability to be completely apathetic about it three hours later. Viva la revolucion but I have my priorities, one of which is to find a place that actually feels like home to me and ultimately, to have somebody to share it with. C'mon, we can play shotgun golf on the back 40, talk to the horses and devise elaborate booby-traps for them pesky revenuers sneakin' up the driveway. Uh huh. Oh, the story we could tell about the one that almost got away.

I really appreciate creative, intelligent people. I like individualists, non-conformists, contrarians, artsy-fartsies, gay interior designers, trauma surgeons, ninjas, test pilots, honest lawyers, horse doctors, guitar pickers, and mad scientists. You don't have to be any of those to write. I have giant flightless birds, bizarro chickens, screaming peacocks, beautiful foot-long koi, three funny dogs and one wild baby-eating dingo. If you think you can make friends with us all, come on down!

(My first date, although it might sound ideal to you, is what is known as "sarcasm". So... you're lacking the sarcasm gene, don't ask me for a date. We won't get along and I actually can't stand Harleys and NASCAR and well, everything about your standard Indiana redneck je ne sais quoi. Look it up.)

We will meet at the local smelly bar and smoke Camels while drinking Budweiser beers. We will talk about our undying love for NASCAR and the sainted Dale Earnhardt decal on the back of my truck window. We might change topics and talk for an hour or two about muddin' or Jesus or football. (God, I hope so.) You will lick the beerfoam from your porn star moustache and zero in on my ample, tattooed bosom while trying not to be too obvious, and I will bat my eyes coyly while repeatedly crossing and uncrossing my long legs that go all the way up to *there* and think about what color the carpet will be in our brand-new double-wide trailer and whether I'll wear a tiara or just a plain old-fashioned veil during the upcoming wedding ceremony. Then I'll climb onto the back of your loud-assed Harley, and we'll ride off into the cool night air for a little drunken hoe-down at the redneck dance hall. You'll accelerate just a little too quickly from the first red light that's 5 miles down the road from where we started, and I'll fall off the back of your stupid motorcycle. About an hour later, you'll wonder why you're two-stepping alone. The End.