Flirt like a lad, dress like a riot & kiss like you mean it or jog on, sweetie. I’ve buried prettier boys behind the club and still made last call.
I’m fluent in sarcasm, I speak perfect cat and post-punk melancholy is my middle name. Loud music calms me down. Quiet people don’t but they help to ease my mind. I’ve got a soft spot for gutter glam & dirty guitars and an unholy weakness for eyeliner-wearing lads in ripped jeans, tight shirts and boots that have seen things. Leather jacket and battle vest? Optional. Attitude? Required!
I like my music loud, my humour dark and my conversations full of static and substance. If your vibe says “spent last night on a rooftop screaming lyrics at the moon” and your soul smells like late-night petrol, petrichor and basement gigs - We’ll probably get along just fine.
I’m open to Skin, Punk & Oi and I’ve got zero problem with Metal or Goth as long as there’s edge, soul and something real underneath all the noise.
Bonus points if your playlist confuses people.
Double trouble if you’ve been described as “a bit intense” and took it as a compliment.
Triple if you're Dominic Richard Harrison and want to be my toy boy.
Jackpot if you’re from the UK, wear eyeliner and want to marry me — for tax reasons or chaos. I’m easy either way.
No plan. Come ruin everything with me =)
