I tend toward the sarcastic, generally have oil and anti-seize on my hands -if not under my nails, read more than I socialize, and talk about booze more than I drink. I actively discriminate against those who live for their self-interest alone -at least if that self-interest coincides with convenience.
I can weld, shape metal with hammer, tie mountaineering knots underwater, set up back or front end of a database, field-strip an AK-47 by feel, and navigate complete darkness by sound alone. I cook any and everything from scratch, and have a fond attachment to my right-angle grinder.
I wish I could Tango well, do proper yo-yo tricks, and deal with the general populace without expressing my apathy for the American Dream.
I am happiest working with my hands by myself, or hanging some sick turns on skis, snowboard, skateboard or motorcycle. The very point just before friction loses out to momentum is the place I want to be.
I am bound entirely by my ethical code, yet I dream of casting it aside. Antisocial personality disorder is best served with a side of bourbon.