OkCupid é Namoro Online Gratuito.

I'm kind of cool, pretty nice, fairly well-adjusted, and possess a decent amount of wit (depending on who you are). I have issues, so I'm not really for dating so much as befriending. My mood depends on yours, so don't message me if you're suicidal or a cheerleader. Or both. Also, think up a more clever opening line than "What if I'm a suicidal cheerleader", cause someone already said it.

I'm interested in photography in that I have a DSLR and I love taking pictures, but I'm not very good at it and I want someone to teach me more.

I'm interested in chess. I love the complete lack of chance, but I will internalize and mourn my losses to a ridiculous level. I guess I'm a sore loser that way.

I'm interested in poker because I figure I'm a little quicker than you, given the time and the chips.

I'm interested in sewing because I love projects, I love creating things, and because it's less time consuming than having more kids.

I'm interested in motorcycles because adrenaline is kind of my thing, and I don't get much of a rush from sewing.

I'm interested in non-smokers because I've quit, but I enjoyed smoking, and seeing you do it will remind me that my mouth is idle, and then I'll go through this whole internal dialogue of "well maybe one wouldn't hurt" or some crap like that ... just easier to not be around it quite yet.

It takes more than a woo to woo me, so sharpen your wit and check your shy at the door before clicking "message", and there's really no excuse to ever click "woo". Plus, aren't woos outdated now that you can get someone to notice you just by viewing their profile?

Sarah's profile will return after these messages...

Finding ways to amuse myself during Sober Month. Oh, sober month over, that went well. I'm not an alcoholic, so, *whew*.

Sober month is back on, for no other reason but that I needed a project.

Finding things to eat during Vegetarian Week. Oh, Veggie Week over, that went well. I'm not creative enough to be a vegetarian, so, oh well. If they come out with a half-vegetarian, I'll be that.

Finding a new oral fixation for Smokeless Season, which is tentatively scheduled for February of '08. Any ideas on things I can do with my mouth, feel free to message. So far I've got: gum-chewing, beverage-drinking, teeth-gnashing, and . . .

*update* Thanks for all of your thoughtful and unique suggestions. I wish I could find that guy who was going to bring me a jar of maraschino cherries so I could learn to tie the stems in knots with my mouth ... well anyway, I've quit smoking. I smell way better now.

Making little or no difference, despite my concerted efforts to the contrary.

People. Cooking. Cooking people. I can vacuum like a porn star. I'm not good at similes. Or metaphors. I don't actually remember which is which.

My hot ass. My epic rack. My sharp wit and my abilitie to spell. I have to point these things out, in case you didn't notice them at first.

are unimportant. I'll probably just tell you I like whatever you like so you'll like me more.

A set of pawns, a pair of rooks, two knights, double bishops, the bitch and big daddy.

things I ought to be doing, but I'm not doing because I'm sitting on my ass.

For instance: I should be attempting to conduct a survey wherein I ask adult entertainers to describe (in detail) the manner in which they remove debris from their carpet, so as to ascertain the accuracy of my previous claim (4 sections up).

Maybe you should be conducting that survey.

Yeah, I could absolutely be more superfluous in my phrasing.

I get bored sometimes. Various online social networking profiles of mine suffer.

I like cookies, so I think about them from time to time. I prefer oreos, because they're culturally diverse with nary a hint of racism, unlike, say, shortbread cookies. Brownies are good, especially with chocolate chunks in them, and if you warm a gigantic corner slab and dump a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream on top, and then give that to me for my birthday, I'll put you in my Top 8.

Not all that fun at this juncture. Probably talking to you. Online.

I don't wear panties. Even with those jeans which have a silly rip betwixt the left ass pocket and the asscrack seam.

You promise not to ever need me.

But you want me anyway.