There I was. Strapped into some ancient flying machine, wind funneling around, sweat-drenched and wondering how all things connected up to this point. But reality came back as a hard push on my shoulders, giving way to my feet disappearing underneath and the world, the clouds, the air opening up. I was flying a damn hang glider.
I'm looking for someone who can plunge off a cliff while discussing how a certain CSS class is similar to the 1996 Houston rap scene while laughing at a dumb but heartwarming joke while drinking an okay but maybe opened it early Pinot while scoring the next "Not Another Teen Movie" soundtrack while, well ... while I guess flying. I also love bangs. They are cute.
Send me a wink or email if you think we might get along and we'll talk.