About

What can I say? I'm just a guy (Filipino-American, on a lawn mower, in a straw hat, in the middle of white, rural America) looking for the things everyone else is after. I'm disconnected from any semblance of the normal life I once enjoyed and I'm trying to claw my way back. Just involves dodging the multitude of curveballs God, Allah, Shiva, or friggin' Zeus insist on launching my way. My only retaliations are rude gestures, foul language, and the conviction to say FUCK IT, ignore the bullshit, and move on. But it's kinda telling when a guy's trying to connect with others in some way on a porn site, heh.

BTW, the Pawnee thing IS a joke. Pawnee is a fictional town (see Parks & Recreation) and maybe I watch too much TV. Would you prefer I said I live in Sealab, the Batcave, or Hoth? Some people would probably believe I occupy a bell tower in Notre Dame. Those people would be dicks. I'm not THAT ugly...

Turns out I've had some truly evil women in my life. Soul-draining, life-sucking worms. God or Satan or fucking Cupid has a fucked up sense of humor. And my ex-inlaws, the denizens of Perdition could take lessons from those bastards. Guess what I'm really saying is that I've got entirely too much Jerry Springer connected to me. They're like an infection you can't shake. The only cure I can think of is copious amounts of fire. Assholes...

I've got fairly normal sexual appetites. I'm not sexually turned on by your feet or armpits but by your brains as much as how pretty you are. Not that I want to see your skull cracked open and have your grey matter spill across my lap, but intelligence and personality are big attractions. Even the most beautiful woman in the world with the most amazing body and sex drive can sit out in the rain getting pruny if she has the personality and IQ of driftwood. I wanna be able to talk to someone about... things, anything. Not just if those jeans make your ass look fat. I love books, movies, videogames, long drives in the sunset with music playing, the windows open, and a cigarette blowing ash in my eyes as I'm trying to maintain control of a moving vehicle when I can't see 'cause I got fucking cigarette ash in my fucking eyes! Fucking hell, you know what? I just realized I'm looking for someone to share that stuff with again. Nice, huh? Even I can dream an impossible dream...

Funny, I do have a webcam; this silly profile actually specifies this, but I don't use it. Nobody wants a close up of my mug. If you want, check my MySpace page for my pics. And yeah, I listed my personal website as a MySpace page. Laugh if you will, but I've got years of blog that I refuse to chuck away. Facebook and I don't get on too well. It's caused me nothing but heartache and ass pain. Anyways, MySpace is there for my blog, so if yer having yerself a little chuckle, go fuck yerself with a corncob.

What it all boils down to is that I'm a nice guy, trapped in the body of a crash test dummy. Heh, you may not be terribly impressed with what you learn about me, but I'll try my best not to bore the shit outta you...