Location: Here. Turn on location services, jocko.
Remote: I lost it in the couch. Please find me another on eBay and dip it in your stockpile of Purell, or I'll be getting up and touching the TV like an animal for the duration of this pandemic. I feel like a frickin' criminal!
Willing to relocate: As long as I don't have to get on a plane, go outside or go to the grocery store. If you can teleport me in a bubble-boy suit, then yes.
Technologies: Kung fu, meditation, whistling, arguing on the internet with anonymous/unreasonable people, singing in the shower until the neighbor dog howls, and (racist?) accent impersonations that are half-way decent. I can also do jumping jacks while filing taxes.
CV: It was a dark and stormy night, my mother and father were stuck in a cheap hotel on their way to Alberquerque. I don't remember the rest and don't want to. Gross!
Email: Keep your electrons physically-distanced from my electrons. Don't send me anything, or I'll have to stick it in the oven for half-an-hour at 170 F like snail mail. What a PITA!
I would prefer all something-for-nothing checks be sent to my bank using direct deposit. Cool?
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Happy? April Fools' Day