I’m a modern man. A man for the millennium. Digital and smoke-free. A diversified, multi-cultural, post-modern deconstructionist. Politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up-linked and downloaded. I’ve been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing. I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low life. A cutting edge, state of the art, bi-coastal multi-tasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I’m a new wave, but I’m old school. And my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat-seeking, warm-hearted cool customer. Voice-activated and biodegradable. I interface from a database, my database is in cyberspace. So I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time, I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight balls, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet, pushing the envelope. I’m on point, on task, on message, and off drugs. I got no need for coke and speed. I got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top but under the radar. A high concept, low profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A streetwise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties. I tell power lies. I take power naps. I run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial.

I got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down. Because I’m tireless and I’m wireless. I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers.

I’m a non-believer and an overachiever. Laidback but fashion-forward. Upfront, down-home, low rent, high maintenance. Supersize, long-lasting, high definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last. I’m a hands-on, footloose, knee jerk head case. Prematurely post-traumatic, and I have a love child who sends me to hate mail.

But I’m feeling. I’m caring. I’m healing. I’m sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary caregiver. My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond. And my revenue stream has its own cash flow. I read junk mail. I eat junk food. I buy junk bonds. I watch trash sports. I’m gender-specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant.

I like rough sex. I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the F word in my email. And the software in my hard drive is hardcore, no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini-mall. I bought a minivan at a megastore. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready to wear and I come in all sizes. A fully equipped, factory authorized, hospital tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle. I’ve been prewashed, precooked, preheated, prescreened, preapproved, prepackaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow. I go with the flow. I ride with the tide. I got glide in my stride. Driving and moving. Sailing and spinning. Jiving and grooving. Wailing and winning. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty. And lunch time is crunch time. I’m hanging in. There ain’t no doubt. And I’m hanging tough. Over and out. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much.