If Howard Roark From Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead” Had a Dating Profile

Greetings. Howard Alexander Roark here. Charmed.

A little about me. I stand 6'3" in bare feet. My eyes are a piercing cerulean shade of blue. My steely reserve is often mistaken for smugness or conceit, which it may well be. I intend to move the earth itself with my innovative designs of a vague nature. I am the golden god you've been waiting for to accompany you to Joker: Folie a Deux and then perhaps a late dinner.

What I’m doing with my life:

Calming hysterical ladies with my penis; making lesser men feel inadequate; designing unique and innovative structures that cause anger and confusion. 

I’m really good at:

Is this a trick question?

The first things people usually notice about me:

My aforementioned large stature; my innovative designs; my shocking orange hair; my dislike of consent.

Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food:

I don’t really have time for such plebeian pleasures. I prefer a glass of Cognac and a partially willing lady in my lap.

The six things I could never do without:

Cognac

Ladies

My penis pump

Valtrex script

A vaguely Semitic foil

T-square

I spend a lot of time thinking about:

Innovative building designs, like putting a slide in a cracker factory. Ladies’ rumps, as long as they are alabaster and tight like a drum.

On a typical Friday night I am:

Standing at a bar looking suave; giving a lady the best thirty seconds of her life.

The most private thing I’m willing to admit:

I’m a bed wetter.

I’m looking for:

An alabaster skinned free market goddess with the morals of a fruit fly and a publishing deal.

You should message me if:

You want to be mistreated by a handsome, dashing, devil-may-care architect. You don’t mind the hour of penis pumping it takes for me to reach full capacity.