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Profile
- Gender
- Man
- Looking For
- Man
- Country
- United States
- Location
- New York, Brooklyn
- Marital Status
- Widow/Widower
- Height
- 6 ft 4 in / 194-195 cm
- Body Type
- Average
- Race
- Caucasian
- Religion
- Ask Me
- Profession
- Medical (Nursing/Physician)
About Me
tiptoeterry the last woman I was in was the statue of liberty...so i want to get fucked fast now!!!
SO I KNOW THIS SITE IS NOT A SCAM PLEASE PUT MY NAME PAUL IN YOUR MESSAGE I am writing this cupid message from deep in the jungles of Borneo. The heat is oppressive. The mosquitos are relentless. And the natives.... the natives are hungry for meat. American meat. Specifically, ground chuck. What was I thinking coming here for my Passover break? What insanity led me to this godforsaken hell?! Oh, how I wish I were back in Brooklyn in Marine Park. Oh, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn! Forgive me for not seeing your beauty when you thrust it in my face. But now that matters not. Or, that matters not now. Either way, my time is running short. Funny how your perspective changes when the end is near. Being overlooked by the women who rejected me on Match, yet again, seems so unimportant to me now.
Last night I dreamt that Ellen DeGeneres was inexplicably hot for me. We were at some sort of party where she told her friends that she found me irresistibly sexy and that, despite being a lesbian, she wanted to do me. As for myself, I was torn. I'm not a big fan of Ellen's. She's incredibly smart and funny, not to mention cute as the proverbial button and sassy as the equally proverbial all get out. I think my ambivalence stemmed from being confused about why, given her sexual orientation, she would be interested in me. Anyway, as the dream progressed Ellen made advances toward me that were, well... very sensual. My ambivalence did not stop me from doing a little smooching. And that was the end of the dream. Or all I could remember. Ellen, if you read this, please quit American Idol. And I thank you.
SO I KNOW THIS SITE IS NOT A SCAM PLEASE PUT MY NAME PAUL IN YOUR MESSAGE I am writing this cupid message from deep in the jungles of Borneo. The heat is oppressive. The mosquitos are relentless. And the natives.... the natives are hungry for meat. American meat. Specifically, ground chuck. What was I thinking coming here for my Passover break? What insanity led me to this godforsaken hell?! Oh, how I wish I were back in Brooklyn in Marine Park. Oh, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn! Forgive me for not seeing your beauty when you thrust it in my face. But now that matters not. Or, that matters not now. Either way, my time is running short. Funny how your perspective changes when the end is near. Being overlooked by the women who rejected me on Match, yet again, seems so unimportant to me now.
Last night I dreamt that Ellen DeGeneres was inexplicably hot for me. We were at some sort of party where she told her friends that she found me irresistibly sexy and that, despite being a lesbian, she wanted to do me. As for myself, I was torn. I'm not a big fan of Ellen's. She's incredibly smart and funny, not to mention cute as the proverbial button and sassy as the equally proverbial all get out. I think my ambivalence stemmed from being confused about why, given her sexual orientation, she would be interested in me. Anyway, as the dream progressed Ellen made advances toward me that were, well... very sensual. My ambivalence did not stop me from doing a little smooching. And that was the end of the dream. Or all I could remember. Ellen, if you read this, please quit American Idol. And I thank you.
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