Knowing is half the battle.

Will trade three soulmates for one dickmate* --m4w
Apparently the soul is taken care of, or amputated (hard to tell), or gone somewhere with others after the dotcom crash (don't you ever wonder WTF did all those people go? Or I just can't recognize them while they tend the espresso machine. But I digress.)

So I'm stuck with d...this city. Buildings and streets are fine, thank you. People, however, are the problem. Particularly the female kind (you know, those with the higher pitched voices and the shorter attention span.)

So if you're one of those, genetic females (wannabes are really not my cup of tea, surgery or not), with some style (yeah, I know, this is so unamerican, but while I can watch Deliverance I don't want to live it), sense of humour (feminists, lawyers, real estate agents are OUT), within the original specs (think being chased by a saber-toothed tiger; you run away - *they* think that big is beautiful), and you can follow really long sentences, drop me a line.

Editor's Note: The term "dickmate" refers to a gay man's partner.

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