My Eharmony Profile

Are you as screamingly lonely as I am?  Mayhaps we should meet up for some fish tacos.  We could talk about the important things--sex, despair, and salsa--and then we could move straight to body massage.  Could you be a soul mate?  Have you read enough history to intelligently discuss the first zombie apocalypse?  Do you believe that Oswald had nothing to do with JFK's murder?  That instead he used malware to infect Reagan with Alzheimer's?  That when we sleep, our soul is transported to the mother ship for reprogramming, and that on the mother ship there are tremendous fish tacos?  That at every meeting of any worthwhile organization, a member should die?  That pushups cause testicular cancer?  That the only proper way to eat a loaf of bread is in one sitting?  That dijon mustard, when applied to the nipples, enhances autostimulation, wards off disease, and acts as a spicy deodorant?  That when we eat bread, adding meat or condiment ruins the experience?  That we can gain all of our daily vitamins and nutrients from sardines, Cap'n Crunch cereal with Crunch Berries, and freshly mowed grass clippings?  That the mother ship will soon be sending us instructions, via reprogramming in our sleep, which will cause the Aliens Among Us--you, me--to rise up and overthrow humankind before a second wave of mad cow triggers the second zombie apocalypse?  That it isn't possible to ask too many questions in a row without getting any answers?

If so, then it is time to meet the piece that completes your two-piece jigsaw puzzle.  Open your door.  The person standing there with a bouquet of grass clippings is me.  If you would be so kind as not to call the cops this time, we can go get those fish tacos and talk of love and despair, if you've got the cash.