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Bildungsronin
40 Shanghai, Shanghai, China
Seeking: Female 18 - 99
Body style: Slim
Um -- €”erm -- €”ummmmmmm (an engaging, eloquent lede, I know =P). In my 'own words', huh? This seems best achieved through airlifting someone else's words -- in this case, those of Marlow..., I mean, Baco..., I mean Queen Elizabe ... -- That Guy. Yeah; so once upon a time there was a consigliere to a weak-minded Danish prince who [both, as it turns out] knew something about flinging fustians. Anyhow, this guy -- who should have spent less time eavesdropping behind curtains and more time teaching his kid to fence -- spouted some noise along the lines of "to thine own self be true," and in deference to that hoary platitude, we'll do our best to stomp around grandiloquently. BTW, that same dude also said -- and get this -- "brevity (of all things) is the soul of wit." What could that possibly mean? =P Alright then; here we go. There exists some notion -- anthroposcopy or physiognomy or perhaps some other word we can actually spell -- €”that book covers exist in large part so that people can judge books by them. You know what? I'm confusing myself; gonna drop the analogy, if not the overall "Please Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover" hortative. Anyways, it has been hinted (read: explicitly stated) to me that the general first impressions I give off are those of rarely seen levels of vacuosness. Lol. 'Thanks,' say I to them -- €”and by 'them' I mean pretty much everyone whose sense organs are electronically linked to their amygdalae and/or orbitoprefrontal cortexes to a degree that allows them to register and subsequently express an opinion on me to me -- even as I, lower lip aquiver, strain back tears and furrow my narrow brow in a vain and tiring attempt to fathom how there can be such universal consensus on the phoniness of my facade. Somewhere in there have been subjects and predicates that have tried to agree. Speaking of thin skulls, crainiologists --€” rest their obsolete, ostensibly unemployed souls -- €”might suggest that I lack the brainpan to deal with an issue of this magnitude; they might as well call a spade a spade and just say that I have a low IQ. =P. I s'ppose -- my abnormally narrow AND shallow cranium notwithstanding -- that on some level I get it. My pheromones apparently don't exude the essence of a sober, serious fellow, despite the fact that I am a lifelong teetotaler who, if allowed to be frank, has pretty consistently proven himself to be an astonishingly inept epicure. ... but that's neither here nor there. Wow, I probably should get to my -- a, any -- point. A point. A point. A point. Is the following a point? I hope so; here it is: Despite how articulately, even effusively my photos declaim to the contrary, I'm ONLY preternaturally phony, not yet aggressively, and not even close to titanically phony ... then of course there's the pedantry =P. But apart from all this, I'm like an 11! =P This 'endorsement,' if you will, from the horse's mouth, as it were, for the record has been an attempt at humor -- the operative word remains 'attempt.' And whether you laugh with me, at me, or semi-perpendicular to me, I -- €”sans any phoniness whatsoever -- look forward to making friends with you. =)

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