Social Be honest, how hot are you?

A solid 8. In my prime and beautified, I could pass for a 9.
 
5 at 49

7.5 in my late 20's, early 30's
 
AGGAMEMNON66 said:
The parts of your posts I do read I hear in Mickey Rourkes voice for some reason lol
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That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in awhile. I'm sure there were decades when I tried to do a Mickey Rourke impression in subtle conversation, probably ad nauseum, but I don't think so, probably just to myself. The only ones I've ever done aren't for public consumption. I get stuck on just the giants I read mostly. Family and friends wouldn't know, because I almost never talk literature and shit outside of here, Contrary to whatever's thought here, I'm not a smug pontificating lunatic spouting good will hunting lines. I don't have a Mickey Rourke impression, but I hear in my head, there's not a lot of space in there, but it's Burroughs, Kerouac, Bukowski, HST, Morrison, Manzarek, Dylan Thomas, Peter O'Toole, Charles Bronson and Burt Lancaster. LIzbeth Salander, the Rooney Mara version. Dee Dee Ramone and Popeye live in my head as well. Lord Buckley, Lenny Bruce and Redd Foxx.
 
I did actually sit at a table and talk with Mickey Rourke as a kid, I didn't know who he was and probably neither did he. He was just a guy. My mom worked for the Forest Service while they were filming Heaven's Gate, Ate macaroni with Christopher Walken as well. I knew who he was.
 
Dude I don’t know. Average I suppose. I’ve been married for a long time and have kids so at this point I’m not really worried about it.
 
Now or in my prime?

Back in the day I was a 9/10 on hot or not.
 
rocketskates said:
Dude I don’t know. Average I suppose. I’ve been married for a long time and have kids so at this point I’m not really worried about it.
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That's just the attitude you need. You're the fucking Djinni in a bottle, you're a known-commodity good guy. If you move your fingers a lot most peopl will stay away.
 
So hot bro, Bangkok Ready level hot
 
Drunken Meat Fist said:
That's just the attitude you need. You're the fucking Djinni in a bottle, you're a known-commodity good guy. If you move your fingers a lot most peopl will stay away.
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Haha. I think at this point im just an old man and the definition of “the dad”. Had a lot of fun in my younger days, im content.
 
Drunken Meat Fist said:
hahaha, not sure if serious. Keep nodding off and woke up to this. The great thing about sarcasm is the guy who put the chasm in it linguistically. Fuck the guy who put the dip in the dip di dip di dip. I'd like to shake his hand. If serious, I've been obsessing on the fucken Bacchae for some reason, it's been bugging me so reread and watched about five productions and half a dozen lectures.. I've been in one of my never sleeping cycles and having some shitty nightmares, in a small funk. Aches and pains that old people bitch about.
Under it all, I don't think I'm that person. It is a comedic daily struggle not to punch a motherfucker watering his lawn. I was talking to someone the other day who was standing with her back to a flight of stairs as she's talking to me. I pulled her away, and she said thanks, i said, no thank you. There's a truly evil fuck who dwells in my head who isn't listening to a word you say and is only thinking of the Sparta kick.
That said, when I get in these funks, it's almost like a super power, to fight the nightmares and shitty taste from the Trazadone, I'll hug a stranger, the barriers come down, I sat at a street light the other day and pointed to the hood of a car and the guy smiled, and so I walked over and leaned back on his hood and he surfed me ten blocks down the fucking road. There are good people out there and some if you show them an inkling about how much you don't give a fuck, you'd be surprised how immediately, almost unconsciously they'll play with you, and in just that moment, you have a friend for life. I've spent a lifetime reading Nietzsche and Kerouac and blah blah blah, Van Gogh, all the greats who died insane or drank themselves to death. I felt as a little kid, that that's my lot, but not in a morbid woe is me kind of way. I just know that has always been the nature I fight against. \

The dark bastards play the hardest hardest game. They've tried putting me on shit, but I'd rather just play out my hand. I think laughter and absurdity are the holiest of gifts, there's no basis for love without that. There is a god to worship. My best pal passed away a few months back, he was a WWII side gunner in a B-17, bombed Dresden, we hit it right off, not because he bombed Dresden. I would have liked him even if he hadn't killed thousands of people. We were watching movies and after I left he fell and broke his leg, just as covid was coming on, so long story short, our friendship for a year was relegated to talking through a window. I'll spare the details off the ending, but I was watching a documentary on Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks, and I nod off a bit, but I think it was Mel Brooks who said when he first met Carl Reiner, he was walking an invisible dog down the sidewalk like nothing was going on. I'm at least that fucking stupid and don't give a fuck. So, without saying anything to anyone I unfold my leash to people slapping their head, well people who know me, so don't matter, has never mattered anyway. I walk up with my invisible dog and he buckles over and almost falls out of his wheelchair with laughter. The whole visit, he can't quit laughing, he's not even listening to anybody else talking to him, he's just losing his shit as I'm petting, striking, jerking, slapping and tugging a dog that isn't there. Maybe 1 in a hundred people would laugh at my shit, but that's the only one that matters.
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I interned for a writer while I was in college that interned for Kesey.

True story.

I also met Tom Wolfe while I was in college. He had a lot of cool things to say about Hunter Thompson when I brought him up.
 


Not that anyone would care, I don't sit around trying to perfect impressions no one will ever hear, it is just reading the material or a turn of the screw in an uninhibited head, but if you're doing Marv from Sin City,= just imagine yourself trying to gargle as hard as you can, but you have nothing to gargle but your biblical personality.

all you have to do for a Larry Flynt is imagine twelve leomonehda sttingwhat is back
 
I think this thread would be a lot more fun if people who rate themselves also provide a pic.
 
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