The AmEx way

My name: See above.

Childhood ambition: To never have to pull weeds in the juniper bed again.

Fondest memory: There’s a bunch. Dancing under a sheet of green laser light during a very gentle rain shower at Burning Man was a good one. So was being number 191 in the year of my draft lottery.

Soundtrack: It depends. Are we talking about the soundtrack while doing yard work or the soundtrack while eatin’ ’tang?

Retreat: The sensory deprivation tank in my garage.

Wildest dream: That the bird flu will sterilize every human being on Earth, thereby bringing a swift and merciful end to the maniacally ruthless cul-de-sac of evolution that is us. There’s a happy ending, of course—just before the last batch of homo sapiens dies, we discover how to leave our bodies and interdimensionally leap into hyperspace, thereby realizing our ultimate destiny as true masters of space and time, which means we can finally lighten the hell up and quit worrying about money all goddamn day. This development would also ensure that our planet could return to being the unique and splendid garden it once was.

Proudest moment: Being named one of the “Ten Most Watchable Men in Northern Nevada,” by a shameless organization of desperately horny local businesswomen.

Biggest challenge: Coming up with a quick, believable response to the question, posed by the woman I was living with in 1979 (and who came home way too early one night), “Who’s that down there in the basement bedroom with you?”

Alarm clock: Is now in a thousand little pieces at the bottom of the Lockwood landfill.

Perfect day: Begins with going to the mailbox and finding my refund check from the IRS. Inexplicably, they’ve added three zeroes to the amount. Then I go to the doctor for my annual physical, and he pronounces me in such good shape that he won’t need to see me again until 2011. Finally, I get home, turn on the news, and see that Dick Cheney, while on a toucan-shoot in Colombia, fell off the boat and was devoured by piranhas.

First job: Booth rinser at the House of Hot, Fresno, Calif.

Indulgence: Quality pastries and a fat bag of NorCal ultra-stink.

Last purchase: See above.

Favorite movie: Well, there’s Shagnet and, of course, Dun-Hur, plus the unforgettable Shaving Ryan’s Privates and Analyze These. How do you go with just one?

Inspirations: Avatars, pole dancing.

My life: Is not as dependent on coffee as I once thought.

My card: Is American Express. Completely superior to both Visa and Mastercard for getting ice off windshields when you don’t have your scraper.