Just cyber wandering. It’s cheap and easy and I pay to be on here. I live in Ohio. Not Columbus though.

59 years old. About 5’11”...197 pounds.

Hot, deluxe pizza. Cold chocolate milk. Campfire. A view from way up. Starry skies. Soft 70s/80s music.

Pics may not be in chronological order.
The one pic with Big Boy. Don’t whisper naughty things in his cute fiberglass ears or he will so drop-kick you over to Wendy’s.

Sometimes I sit outside in my boxers and paint geometric paintings. And think. Painting and thinking. Outside my boxers.

I’m not much of a bear or cub or otter or weasel. More of a honey badger I reckon. Youtube search "The crazy nasty@$$ honey badger (original narration by Randall)".

So what is my type? YouTube search "The Yankee Marshal Top Ten Negative Comments Troll Edition". He makes me laugh. He makes me cry. And he has cute bear hands. The young Al Borland on the reruns and currently the ex-Olympic gymnast Ash Watson. I know. I’m too old for ‘em.

Other than that, nothing exciting here. As I get older, my nose gets bigger and my belly button gets smaller.

Cumulus clouds, all-cotton white t-shirts, those bubbles in levels and solar eclipses are sexy too. Jot that down. And so is the gentleman who lets the trapped bee free and softly closes the screen door.

Often I get this “What are you into” line. When I was about 16 years old, I was outside on a cold winter night with a friend I had a big secret crush on. He offered me his gloves to wear. I put them on, feeling the warmth he had left in them and cherishing the fact my hands were occupying the very same space his just had. I felt I had touched the edge of the Universe, a feeling unforced and natural but yet shameful. I knew it was the closest I'd ever get to him. So that’s what I’m into. Feeling the edge of the Universe again but mutually with a special someone…