Well not all the time, just when I hang out with my friends at bars too late which is about every other weekend lately. I live in Vegas, a union journeyman sheet metal worker, stagehand and play lead guitar in a band. You might say the religious right hates my guts (or wants to "save" me). I like mostly rock music, everything from Chuck Berry to the Beatles to NOFX to Slayer. I'm a bleeding heart humanitarian extreme left liberal as far as politics goes so you've been warned. I love a good dirty joke or intellectually stimulating conversation so you don't have to worry about offending me either way. I'm looking for more friends to further separate myself from the religious nut jobs who annoy and try to oppress the shit out of me. Hit me up if you want to chat it up a bit.

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I do have one thing to my advantage about the whole "saving souls" thing: I have red hair. So when they tell me they want to save me I tell them "Don't you know? There's nothing here to save. Gingers don't have souls! Are you an idiot?" So far I've only had one try to argue with me.

Caribbean rum is my poison of choice. SO, here goes with a lame attempt at humor.

Two young nuns, members of a poor order, are told to paint the storage room which contains the food and clothing pantry for the needy. However, as they are a poor order, they cannot afford to clean their habits (uniforms) if they get paint on them.  The nuns decide to lock the door and close the curtains, put their clothes under a tarp, and paint while they're naked so as to avoid splotches on their clothes. In the middle of painting, there's a knock on the door. They ask, "Who's there?" The response is, "Blind man." They think that since he's blind he just wants a handout, so they open the door. He walks in and says, "Wow, nice tits! Where do you want me to hang the blinds?"

Anyway, welcome and look forward to seeing you around.

Hahahaha nice!

A Sunday School teacher of preschoolers told her students that she wanted each of them to have learned one fact about Jesus by the next Sunday. The following week she asked each child in turn what he or she had learned.

Susie said, "He was born in a manger."

Bobby said, "He threw the money changers out of the temple."

Little Johnny said, "He has a red pickup truck but he doesn't know how to drive it."

Curious, the teacher asked, "And where did you learn that, Johnny?"

"From my Daddy," said Johnny. "Yesterday we were driving down the highway, and this red pickup truck pulled out in front of us and Daddy yelled at him, Jesus Christ! Why don't you learn how to drive?"

Yes, Robert, drinking Guinness IS like drinking a milkshake!  I've tried to explain, excuse, or, perhaps, 'confess' my aversion to it.  But, as a Mick, and also, by the way, a ginger, I'm expected to appreciate Guinness.  

I do like it, I do,

but I'd rather a brew

whether aged or new,

that I don't have to chew.

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