I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby**** and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I'm a lover not a fighter, but I'm also a fighter so don't get any ideas. I once had an awkward moment just to see how it feels. When I don't make sense, I make perfect sense and I once had a staring contest with my reflection, on the fourth? day, I won.
Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.
Other than that, I'm a pretty typical guy.