Bret W. for God's sake stop sending me group mail!

Bret. He's not just for dinner anymore

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You are not connected to Bret W. for God's sake stop sending me group mail!

The Basics

Location: California where everyone is sexy and fascinating
Gender:

male
Sexual Orientation:

straight
Relationship Status:

married

Profile updated: Jun 20, 2008
Last signed in: Jul 03, 2008
Member since: Nov 09, 2006

Friends

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Valerie M.	Tabitha M.	anna g. vanwinkle
WS R.	Dena Straughn	Chuck M.
Edward Nudelman	karie anne	ceena vuocolo

Groups

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Gatherism	Poetry, Haiku, Stories, Pictures...ALL Welcome Here	The Reader's Lounge
Gathering In My Jammies	The Music Source Magazine	Just A Poser
Lights, Camera, Action	Media Bytes	For the Sake of Peace

Bret thinks tombstones look like chess pieces. Your move?

Spotlight

Doom Fell Aspect. A Fresh Attempt at Gather's Worst Poetry

rating: 10 | comments: 56

Doom Fell Aspect i found it anyway, blind folded i felt nasty habits? i had a few. what the hell, it was . . . more

Bret's Feed

Bret was pinged by meg d. Jul 03, 2008 11:28PM EDT

Bret pinged meg d. Jul 03, 2008 11:19PM EDT

Bret was pinged by meg d. Jul 03, 2008 7:02PM EDT

Bret commented on the article 3 things that are always worth paying a little extra for by J W. Jul 01, 2008 11:13PM EDT
"Guitars
Clothes
Tequila" more

Bret commented on the article Daughtry cd review by Chuck M. Jul 01, 2008 11:12PM EDT
"I saw him with sugar pop Bon Jovi a few months ago. I'm just not a fan. Funny you should mention Nickleback. They seem to be of the same slick over processed and formulaic family to my ears. I want . . ." more

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About Me

People say I'm:

I'm irresistable when the sun hits me at a certain angle.
Describe Yourself:

I am not the merciless wolf of improbablity. Nor can I be described as the canned fruit salad of metaphor in a Corning Ware bowl. Perhaps I am the cocktail onion of wisdom. No swine gazed pearl am I! Rather, let me constitue the silhouette of a famine stricken horse in a harsh winter field. I wasted the spare change of unmet expectations on vending machines of desire. Away with your souvenier spoon collections! I close my eyes against the harsh gleam of their falseness. Small hands of caring, take this sand to the beam decieved ships that drown on the reef and bury their tears. Come with me, empty the garbage cans of longing into the compost bins of the heart. Mourn with me these leftover affections. Such bitter grounds! This is what we have in common.
On Gather, I'm Looking For ...:

low maintenance connections who don't group mail. Got something specifically for me? I'd love to hear from you. Want me to vote for your pet? Please don't.