A sort of true story. Once upon a time there was a nice guy with great head of hair - as long as you like men bald. He lived in a really boring town called Elk Grove where people woke up, went to work, came home complained about their jobs, kissed their wives, and went to bed. This guy was different. The idea of a white picket fence in the burbs, with blow up Santa on the lawn in December sounded like hell. The point of work wasn't to tick off one day closer to death but a chance to get ahead in the world and to help fund his own company that he was slowly growing in his free time. He wanted to escape, to travel more to win in all things. And he was doing a pretty damned good job. This guy only had one thing lacking. A dirty girl to keep him company. He was fitness oriented with weights, hiking and jiu-jitsu in his life and hated drugs including pot, so he didn't fit into the PNP crowd. He also like tacos and talking about something besides how awesome crossfit is, so he didn't get along with the super fit girls. He also had a habit of being sarcastic and classy as fuck, so the straight laced girls wouldn't date him either. So he just kept rubbing his brass lamp thinking of such a girl, but no wishes were granted, just sticky white stuff kept coming out. So then he looked on the interwebz and met some crazy ass fuckers and he decided that maybe sane, clean women that enjoyed sex with somebody they trusted were just a figment of his imagination. The end. You are still here? It's over. Go home. Go.

My Ideal Person Somebody fun to hang out with, get dolled up so I can take her out on the town, also go camping or hiking for a weekend would be nice. Also somebody that likes kinky sex and enjoys being submissive would be best. I have the same name in fetlife if you want to friend me there and share our dirty secrets.

Somebody who believes that I'm dying of cancer and the only thing holding it off is daily application of vaginal secretions would be bestest.

I also don't fuck on the first date. Or the third. Well maybe. But suffice to say I know I'm not Jason Statham, so a girl wanting to knock boots the minute I meet her isn't playing hard enough to get for my liking. I don't mind earning my way into your bedroom.