That's one of my favorite TV lines ever. ( Rick Castle is telling Kate Beckett what the character he's basing on her is like.)
In my mind (heh heh), it describes me, too.
I am really smart, a genius actually, and can recall stupid factoids like nobody's business and can quote conversations I heard when I was two. I avoid arguments by having them in my mind using quotes from last time we argued about a topic... so if my position hasn't changed, I already know how the conversation will go. Poor grammar bothers me immensely. However, I'm no longer impressed with my IQ that's higher than our president's, because who the heck wants to be around Sheldon Cooper? I love "Big Bang Theory," and I actually get the science jokes, but even I wouldn't actually want to be around Sheldon all the time without randomly punching him in the face just to see him try to figure out why I did it. So I try hard to not be a nerd. (Judging by my appearances on boards & fanfic, I'd say I'm failing at the not-a-nerd effort, though.)
And I really enjoy writing, because I can pretend I'm savvy. When I speak aloud, I choke on my foot constantly (Oh, you didn't find it funny that I joked on yo momma? My bad. And did I seriously just say that I was a good girl in a way that implied your daughter was skanky trash? Oops. I meant it as a compliment; really, I did.) So, when writing, I can think before I speak and not get flustered and sound like I just lost 80 IQ points.
The good looks part, well, you can look at my avatar on fictionpress & decide that one for yourself. To each his own. While I think I'm cute, the only boy that asked me out from my high school turned out to be gay. Maybe I acted too much like Sheldon. Maybe I was too much of a tomboy. My mom thought I was a lesbian because I hung out with the girls from my church youth group who were also a little tom-boyish. And one of them turned out to be a lesbian. Huh. Can one of my high school friends clue me in on this? Guys in their 20's asked me out all the time when I was still jailbait, so I've gotta know what was wrong with you boys that I hung out with all the time! (Yeah, I said what's "wrong with you," because I'm awesome, so obviously nothing was wrong with me. Duh.) Heh heh.
What's next? Good at her job. When I give a crap enough to finish a job, it's pretty cool. I've got some nice paintings for sale, and I design a mean eco-friendly house. Does that count?
And kinda slutty? It was probably a good thing I didn't date much in high school. If you've read The Five Love Languages, you know that one of them is Words of Affirmation. That's all me, and if I don't get affirmed, I get terribly insecure. So if you comment, I write more. If you review a chapter and tell me what you want to see more of, I'll write it. I'm a two-dollar ho-bag in that way; except I take payments in reviews and put out with words. Does that make me cheap? I don't care. Like mosts cheap hos (what is the plural of that, anyway?), I'm an addict. Pathetic, hopeless addict. So, please be a good reviewer and give me my crack!