Just your typical, run-of-the-mill charming scoundrel, really.
The super-villain you're secretly rooting for.
By day I'm a mild-mannered psychologist. My job basically involves hanging out with (often hilarious, sometimes tragic) kids and helping them with all manner of social, emotional, or academic issues.
By night, however, I have a lucrative career as a 40s-style bank robber extraordinaire. [Note: Currently accepting applications for evil female getaway car driver. Gimme a kiss and keep your foot on the gas.]
Things at which I rule:
Lately I've been brushing up on looking down. Who knows, maybe even working on my RAWR.
Also music. I rock with the kind of reckless abandon and smoldering sensuality that's scientifically proven to curl your toes. I also have a knack for "seeing" music (synesthesia).
Whenever I come across the word "copious" in print, my brain just decides to read it as "octopus" for some reason.The worst/best part of this little phenomenon is that usually when you see the word "copious" it's followed by the phrase "amounts of sex." At this juncture you're probably asking yourself, "What exactly is an octopus amount of sex?!" Easy tiger, I haven't even met you yet.
1) If you took precisely nothing I said on here seriously.
2) If you masquerade as a cynical realist and can banter like a champ, but deep down you're a starry-eyed optimist and hopeless romantic.
3) If your profile consists of more than just a bunch of painstakingly-staged pics of you duck-facing, followed by a list of demands. I'll take the combination of brains, moxie and CLASS over a fresh-off-the-assembly-line douchebaguette any day.