Friday, July 16, 2010

RE: Bad Boy Gone Good OR Street Smart, Smart Ass, Survivor with Class

Bad Boy Gone Good OR Street Smart, Smart Ass, Survivor with Class - w4m - 19 (Denver)
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Date: 2010-07-14, 4:12PM MDT

Reply to: pers-XXXXXXXXXXXX@craigslist.org
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I've got a master's degree from a good school, I've traveled extensively internationally, I'm bona fide and certified and I use correct grammar habitually. My Problem? The men I "should" be dating bore me to tears. My type seems to be the self-made, driven, still street-smart-but-have-moved-beyond-my-neighborhood-because-I-don't-need-the-hassle-anymore sort of man . . . The kind of man who could probably win in a bar fight every time even now but who chooses not to because he's over that shit.

Have you reached a certain age but nobody would guess (by that I mean probably 19's and 50's) how old you are? Do you have wisdom and youthfulness and sheer persistence? Are you somebody who was (is) always smart and quick and living on the edge but who has made his way into a more comfortable existence because you've just grown out of it (and no, I don't mean support me, I mean know which fucking fork to use in a nice restaurant and don't have a tattoo on your neck) and you want to live peacefully now?

E-mail me . . . I have accepted that you are my type and I am looking for someone who can love me ferociously while I love you back.

Location: Denver

PostingID: 1843301383

Colin Heintze to pers-XXXXXXXXXXXX. (2 minutes ago)

Anton Kimble Blackwater at your service!

I must admit, your challenge sang to me like a siren! I find myself drawn to your rocky shores, though like the hardy seamen of antiquity I can expect awaiting peril - that is what the Lapp medium read in the entrails during my last annual vision quest.

But enough of boring you with the minutia of my life! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Anton Kimble Blackwater, heir to the Blackwater Industrial, Antiquities, and Space Flight Research Concerns. I say with equal parts intrigue and sadness that I may - by Plutarch's beard! - be somewhat beneath your standards, though that you have such lofty requirements speaks to the uncompromising nature of undiluted blue-blooded aristocracy! That is why, though I stand before you humbled, I have chosen to return your overture with the fervor of a Kipchak boy singing his first courtship song outside the yurt of his beloved. For, you see, I too have known the sting of seeking romance among those who are beneath me. Perhaps my mother's blood peddles its influence on me - after all, she was but a simple Spanish wet nurse who, by way of her preternatural goodness, was able to win the heart of my father, the venerable rubber magnate and gentleman adventurer Henry Blackwater. It is this dilution of the Blackwater lineage which, I believe, has always given me a certain fondness for the lower classes. That, and my education in Berber caravans and Levantine opium dens gave me a certain worldliness few Blackwaters have had the benefit of.

But, how can I find love when I am continually presented with the ordinary and mundane? Of all my conquests, scarcely a dozen had ever lived among the savage tribes of Papua, ran a multi-billion-dollar business, or felt the smooth, downy comfort of a night's sleep neath' a snow-leopard pelt. Why should I settle for a lover who is merely fit for a Duke, when I deserve one fit for a Blackwater!

True to your requirements, I was quite rakish in my youth. Though I shun the obscenity of physical violence, I am quite capable of its execution. Half-brother Cecil - damn the rogue! - has seen to that. Not a month goes by in which he does not try to relieve me of our father's fortune, and many the fiendish Dayak and Hussite assassins have met their ends at my hands. My expertise in the martial sciences and esoteric magicks, however, has not lately been put on display. I am, as you hoped, no longer prone to engaging in bouts of combat. Since taking Man-servant Mandalay into my employ, foiling Cecil's attempts has become his area of providence. These days, I mostly amuse myself by administering the many charities in the Blackwater Trust and researching a dull assortment of quantum particles and metaphysical phenomenon.

Come, deliver me from this tedium! Let us share yarns of our ancestors in the Carolingian line; let us watch the moon rising over the canopy of the Orinco; let us match wits in frivolous, world-spanning contests (first to find the Jade Osprey wins!). I am waiting for you!

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