This is a real want ad I just found at www.craigslist.org
Nervous Wreck Seeks Domineering Bitch for Rebound Melee
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Reply to: anon-67853839@craigslist.org
Date: Sun Apr 10 20:19:30 2005
Insecure depressive seeks despotic ballcrusher to finalize descent into madness. Ineffectual communication skills and aggressive codependence experience a must. You should possess the uncanny ability to turn a sunny Disneyesque day into Dante's ninth circle, and frighten me into sleeping with one eye open; uncertain if your razor-like talons are poised for my inevitable evisceration.
Please be able to completely annihilate any residual faith in humanity, delusions of happiness, and sense of self worth. Depigmentation of my hair is not fully complete at this stage - and I am looking for you to finalize the process. Bonus points for initiating enough stress to drag me down the path of premature baldness, or inducing permanent stress-related gastrointestinal damage.
Please view our relationship as nothing more than a conquest to be subjugated. I expect you to reduce me to a raving and drooling shell of a human being before moving on to your next challenge. The only compensation I can offer is the knowledge that your name will be unceasingly repeated as I beat my head against the walls of my padded cell.
Here's another:
You date me, You date Jesus - m4w - 25
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Reply to: anon-67545961@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Apr 08 12:31:51 2005
I am looking for me someone to love as much as I love Jesus, but obviously in a different way.
Since Jesus has been in my life I have found nothing to be impossible. I can do everything and anything. Except for the NYTimes crossword puzzle (Jesus can only help me so much).
I am looking for a woman ready to bear somewhere between 5-10 children. I will always work, always paint the house, water the lawn, and even cook sometimes. I just ask that you dust because I am allergic.
I am 5'11 with brown hair, slight build, no tatoos, one birthmark that looks like Jay Leno on my right buttocks (so I'm told). I have had sex before but it was with a woman who said awful things that made me cry. I do not like to make love again unless its for children. Oh the things she said and the way she took the lords name improper. Just bad dirty!!
I would like you to be yourself as God mad you and Jesus supervised. You can wear hats if you choose. I don't mind a stutter if you have one. Don't be a blinker though. I don't like when people blink too much or squeeze their eyes. I feel like they don't want to SEE JESUS. Sorry I got excited.
I would like to know when you found Jesus and where you found him.
I would like to know your favorite non-confrontational television broadcast and what snack you eat while watching it.
Please email me and I can take you out for a meatball parmigiana, my favorite (you can eat whatever you want but I'll be eating that).
Bless you.
Me and my friends found Jesus at dinner last night. He insulted us and asked us why we were at his table.
The first one rocked.
I laughed so hard I almost swallowed my cigarette.
Ouch! Sorry about the cigarette. :twisted:
I'm getting so addicted to this Craig's List:
How to tell your friend his cat's dead
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Reply to: anon-71303052@craigslist.org
Date: Mon May 02 14:00:18 2005
"let me start by saying, i own a cat, love my pet, and wouldn't ever do anything to hurt it. With that said....
My friend was watching a mutual friend's cat while he was on vacation. Before he left, he warned that the cat was old (21 years old), and not doing so hot. He suspected that he was ready to die. Sure enough, the cat died on the last day of vacation. My friend asked me how he should tell him. I gave him these options to break the news.
1) "i've got good news and i've got bad news. bad news is, your cat's dead. the good news is that i saved a lot on my car insurance."
2) "hey, you're out of milk, the chips are stale, your cats dead, and the light bulb in the bathroom needs to be changed."
3) (when they walk into the apartment) *sniff* *sniff* "you smell dead cat??"
4) Leave a suicide note next to the cat with a finished bag of catnip mentioning how boring the sitter was.
5) "Are you still interested in those taxidermy classes?"
6) Get rid of the cat, draw a chalk out line, put up police tape all over the place, and act stupid.
7) "Will everyone with a live cat please step forward.....not so fast buddy."
8) "you have a couple messages: your mom called, she wants you to call her back; your landlord said the rent is late; your cat said 'bye'."
9) (when he picks him up from the airport)
sitter: Let's play a game....Dead or human?
owner: huh? ok.
sitter: you ?
owner: human
sitter: me ?
owner: human
sitter: your cat?
owner: huh ?!?!?
10) owner: thanks for watching the place. where are my keys ?
sitter: oh, they're under your dead cat. "
Quote from: SssBella, Oracle of DoomOuch! Sorry about the cigarette. :twisted:
I'm getting so addicted to this Craig's List:
No problem. It was bound to happen, sooner or later.
QuoteI don't mind a stutter if you have one. Don't be a blinker though. I don't like when people blink too much or squeeze their eyes. I feel like they don't want to SEE JESUS. Sorry I got excited.
Thanks Bella, I have no idea but that shit cracked me the fuck up!Q Doesn't happen that much. I want to know how they did that. Plus just randomly I'd start laughing again about it scared my family, I didn't explain. I couldn't explain.
Quote from: damage controlQuoteI don't mind a stutter if you have one. Don't be a blinker though. I don't like when people blink too much or squeeze their eyes. I feel like they don't want to SEE JESUS. Sorry I got excited.
Thanks Bella, I have no idea but that shit cracked me the fuck up!Q Doesn't happen that much. I want to know how they did that. Plus just randomly I'd start laughing again about it scared my family, I didn't explain. I couldn't explain.
That's the best part of the ad. No doubts at all.
Quote from: damage control
Thanks Bella, I have no idea but that shit cracked me the fuck up!Q Doesn't happen that much. I want to know how they did that. Plus just randomly I'd start laughing again about it scared my family, I didn't explain. I couldn't explain.
You're welcome. Sorry about scaring the family. :(
Here's another. This one made me spit my coffee all over:
Rave: Karma will get you every time... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-70819601@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Apr 29 10:11:37 2005
Ahhhh I love Karma.
So I have an interesting career, I work in Urology as a PA/Andrologist. I touch alot of penis, and I play with alot of sperm. Most of my patients are pretty uncomfortable with their visit (gizzing in a cup in a doctors office can be stressful, I understand!) so I can see how it can be stressful. I didn't realize how stressful until this morning.
Now on to the rave, today I am on my way into the office and running late. I called to see if my first patient arrived and he was apparently stuck in the same traffic as me, so it was all going to work out okay. Now I am not a huge fan of cell phone talking while driving, but I don't harass people. As I am merging to get off the highway and finishing my conversation with the office this ass decided to beep, scream, ride my ass, bascially being a real pain in his car. He is behind me for a while, continuing his screaming fit and making gestures in the rear view. Finally, he passes me while screaming and giving me the finger. I pulled into DnD to get the office coffee and then went on my merry way to the office.
Guess who was my patient today, none other than Mister nice driver. He needed a testicular biopsy...what a nice pleasant moment it was to see the look on his face when he realized where he had seen me before.
So next time you decide to get a case of road rage, think twice about who you might be screaming and swearing at through the windown. It could be someone who will soon be palpating your scrotom, injecting local anesthesia, and/or removing a small piece of tissue. :)
Mr. Choppy - The Craptastic Lawn Mower - 15
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Reply to: anon-70873822@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Apr 29 15:06:33 2005
That's right folks, step right up and check out the Assassin of lawn mowers. I call him Mr. Choppy.
This marvel of not-so-modern engineering does it all: it slices and dices, hones your reflexes, works you into a dirty, sweaty rage, and impresses the neighbors all at the same time. How does it do all that you might ask? Read on my friends.
About Mr. Choppy's features:
1. Built in speed control.
That's right. This nifty device has a simple, but effective way of saying "slow down you're cuttin' too fast". When you push him, and his blade spins it sends a nice rooster tail of grass, rocks, and whatever else happens to be in his path right back at you. Now, this is actually pretty satisfying if you like the smell of freshly cut grass, rocks, groundhogs, etc. The faster you go, the higher Mr. Choppy's rooster tail goes. So, depending on how tall, strong, and motivated you are, nothing says you've reached terminal velocity like a rock in the eye. How about a blast from the Grass Weasel, BAM! Awesome.
2. Reliability due to simplicity of design.
Tired of changing the oil? Winterizing your mower get you down at the end of the summer? Problems with hard starting? No problemo. Mr. Choppy has none of these hang-ups. I mean none. There's no problematic motor to keep running, no gas to buy, no stupid wussie safety devices to save your fingers. It's just two wheels a blade and a handle. Advantage: you.
3. Self propelled traction system.
Ok, that should read "propelled by self traction system" or "propelled by Nike" etc. This is the feature where you get both a workout and hone your reflexes. If you hit a patch of wet grass, and you don't have all terrain footwear or cat-like reflexes, you're pretty much going down for the count. On the bright side, the staff at most emergency rooms just love the extra business Mr. Choppy will bring them. And you probably weren't going to use your medical insurance this summer anyways, right? Right. Advantage: Mr. Choppy.
4. Optional Grass Catcher.
This is optional in the sense that it's an option if you want to supplement your lawn mowing workout with a little extra ballast. The damn grass never even makes into O'l Choppy's catcher due to feature #1. So, pretty much all this does is drag around behind The Choppster and trip you up which actually contributes to feature #3. Frankly, it works better when you lean it up against the side of the house and fill it with empty beer cans. Priceless.
And finally:
5. Wow factor not available with 'traditional' mowers.
Yes indeedie. You will become the legend of your neighborhood when you mow with Mr. Choppy. Let's just assume for a moment that a fellow Craig,Äôs Lister gets to Mr. Choppy first and becomes his proud new owner. As it turns out, Mr. Choppy's new owner is your neighbor across the street. Now picture this: you step outside your house one sunny Saturday morning ready to mow your own lawn to witness what can only be described as an awe-inspiring sight. Your neighbor across the street, we'll call him Mr. Shackles, and Mr. Choppy have declared war on the front yard. Shackles and Choppy are going at it, Shackles grunts and groans as he bobs and weaves, slips and slides, pushes and pulls as Choppy cuts and chucks blade after blade of unsuspecting grass at Mr. Shackles. It's a lawn slaughter and everybody is invited. Shackles breathes grass and rocks like a demon possessed with the will to decimate his unwieldy renegade lawn. Mr. Choppy happily and reliably complies until finally the day is won. Bloodied and bruised, dirty and sweaty, Mr. Shackles manages a prideful, grass stained, smile. The kind of smile that can only result from the satisfaction of a hard fought battle and a job well done for the entire neighborhood to see.
And after all, wouldn't you like it to be you that the neighbors talk about when they utter the phrase, "That guy is THE MAN. Did you see him mowing his lawn?"
This should be you. Don't wait, contact me today. Mr. Choppy has an appetite for destruction and it,Äôs almost time to eat.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/SssBella/mrchoppy.jpg)
Wicked.
I don't even have a lawn, and I want to buy it.
Is your mother Joan Crawford?
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Reply to: anon-64550572@craigslist.org
Date: Sat Mar 19 15:55:38 2005
Is your mother Joan Crawford? Have you spent your entire life abused, yelled at, and just plain old mistreated because of her capricious, violent nature? Well, here's your chance at revenge. Due to an inspired bout of spring cleaning, I have in my possesion a LARGE quantity of wire hangers. Probably 30 or 40, maybe more. Can you imagine her reaction when she gets home to find all of her clothes, so carefully arranged before she left for her hair appointment, all hung on wire hangers, with the attendant shoulder nipples and wrinkles? I don't think you understand how cathartic it would be.
Best of all, this lot of wire hangers is FREE FREE FREE!! All you have to do is pick them up in Hoboken. If no one claims them in 48 hours, they're going to my local dry cleaner's place.
This is the perfect opportunity to get Mommy Dearest back for all of her years of mistreatment. Don't miss this once in a lifetime chance!
P.S. I'm funny, tall, single, male and have a good job. If you would like to date me, you can do that, as well. You don't even have to take the hangers.
i never got beat with wire coat hangers, but i have nightmares about
it after working 8 hours a day for a week or so, detangling coat
hangers for a dry cleaning place.
not bad work, actually...2.50 a rack of hangers
usually pumped 5 hangers or so an hour.
with my friend, we could pump out maybe 15 racks in an hour.
Free Dog!!
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Reply to: anon-57498003@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Jan 28 13:33:10 2005
Free dog. This is a smallish yet loud dog. It is not small enough to fit in your purse, but who the fuck are you kidding, you're no Paris Hilton. Sizewize, it is somewhere between the Taco Bell dog and Benji. It is brown and white, or possibly just white but dirt caked. I think it's about a year old. I think that because it's been about a year since I've been able to sleep past 6:30am without being awakened by the barks of a meduim sized dirty dog. I don't know that it knows any tricks, but it is very skilled at shitting in my yard and barking incessantly. I think it is a boy dog, but I only think this because the owner of said dog is a misogynistic, wife beating dirt bag, and I can't imagine that he'd have a girl dog, but I could be wrong about that. I've never gotten close enough to the dog to check out its goods, so if gender is a deal breaker for you, you might want to pass on this one. I don't know this dog's name, but I can tell you that it does not answer to "JesusChristPuhleeezeShutTheFuckUp!!!" If you're looking for a dog with that name, than this is not the dog for you.
The one tricky part about this transaction is that technically, this is not my dog. In fact, there is no "technically" about it, this is definitely not my dog. This rank creature belongs to my next door neighbor, The King of Rank Creatures. What makes this whole scenario feasible is that said next door neighbor has the disposition of a drunken Boo Radley, and will almost certainly not even realize or care that you are in his yard stealing his dog. Also, as the next door neighbor, I will provide excellent look out skills.
No givebacks.
Heh. There was a good one on the Hawaii board a while ago... let me find it...
21M seeking to pass the time spacing out w/ ps2 - m4w - 21
I'm an atheltic, fit and lightly built caucasian guy with insurmountable computer/tech skills and an insane love for medicine. Practicing medicine not doing drugs I swear. I am looking for a comfy girl to sit there and wish she had a real man while I either play video games or sleep after completely nongratifying sex. For you not me, I always get mine. Hit me up if you are interested your pic gets my eyebrow raised.
http://honolulu.craigslist.org/msr/67145733.html
Can't help but think it was written by a woman who recently dumped her lazy ass boyfriend.
Quote from: Sotek.4Can't help but think it was written by a woman who recently dumped her lazy ass boyfriend.
And I can't help but agree with that assessment. :twisted:
Some Advice From Your Public Defender
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Reply to: anon-70300494@craigslist.org
Date: Tue Apr 26 10:49:28 2005
First, let me say I love my job and it is a privilege to work for my clients. I wish I could do more for them. That being said, there are a few things that need to be discussed.
You have the right to remain silent. So SHUT THE FUCK UP. Those cops are completely serious when they say your statements can and will be used against you. There,Äôs just no need to babble on like it,Äôs a drink and dial session. They are just pretending to like you and be interested in you.
When you come to court, consider your dress. If you,Äôre charged with a DUI, don,Äôt wear a Budweiser shirt. If you have some miscellaneous drug charge, think twice about clothing with a marijuana leaf on it or a t-shirt with the ,ÄúUniBonger,Äù on it. Long sleeves are very nice for covering tattoos and track marks. Try not to be visibly drunk when you show up.
Consider bathing and brushing your teeth. This is just as a courtesy to me who has to stand by you in court. Smoking 5 generic cigarettes to cover up your bad breath is not the same as brushing. Try not to cough and spit on my while you speak and further transmit your strep, flu, and hepatitis A through Z.
I,Äôm a lawyer, not your fairy godmother. I probably won,Äôt find a loophole or technicality for you, so don,Äôt be pissed off. I didn,Äôt beat up your girlfriend, steal that car, rob that liquor store, sell that crystal meth, or rape that 13 year old. By the time we meet, much of your fate has been sealed, so don,Äôt be too surprised by your limited options and that I,Äôm the one telling you about them.
Don,Äôt think you,Äôll improve my interest in your case by yelling at me, telling me I,Äôm not doing anything for you, calling me a public pretender or complaining to my supervisor. This does not inspire me, it makes me hate you and want to work with you even less.
It does not help if you leave me nine messages in 17 minutes. Especially if you leave them all on Saturday night and early Sunday morning. This just makes me want to stab you in the eye when we finally meet.
For the guys: Don,Äôt think I,Äôm amused when you flirt or offer to ,Äúdo me.,Äù You can,Äôt successfully rob a convenience store, forge a signature, pawn stolen merchandise, get through a day without drinking, control your temper, or talk your way out of a routine traffic stop. I figure your performance in other areas is just as spectacular, and the thought of your shriveled unwashed body near me makes me want to kill you and then myself.
For the girls: I know your life is rougher than mine and you have no resources. I,Äôm not going to insult you by suggesting you leave your abusive pimp/boyfriend, that you stop taking meth, or that your stop stealing shit. I do wish you,Äôd stop beating the crap out of your kids and leaving your needles out for them to play with because you aren,Äôt allowing them to have a life that is any better than yours.
For the morons: Your second grade teacher was right ,Äì neatness counts. Just clean up! When you rob the store, don,Äôt leave your wallet. When you drive into the front of the bank, don,Äôt leave the front license plate. When you rape/assault/rob a woman on the street, don,Äôt leave behind your cell phone. After you abuse your girlfriend, don,Äôt leave a note saying that you,Äôre sorry.
If you are being chased by the cops and you have dope in your pocket ,Äì dump it. These cops are not geniuses. They are out of shape and want to go to Krispy Kreme and most of all go home. They will not scour the woods or the streets for your 2 grams of meth. But they will check your pockets, idiot. 2 grams is not worth six months of jail.
Don,Äôt be offended and say you were harassed because the security was following you all over the store. Girl, you were wearing an electronic ankle bracelet with your mini skirt. And you were stealing. That,Äôs not harassment, that,Äôs good store security.
And those kids you churn out: how is it possible? You,Äôre out there breeding like feral cats. What exactly is the attraction of having sex with other meth addicts? You are lacking in the most basic aspects of hygiene, deathly pale, greasy, grey-toothed, twitchy and covered with open sores. How can you be having sex? You make my baby-whoring crack head clients look positively radiant by comparison.
"I didn't put it all the way in." Not a defense.
"All the money is gone now." Not a defense
"The bitch deserved it." Not a defense.
"But that dope was so stepped on, I barely got high." Not a defense.
"She didn't look thirteen." Possibly a defense; it depends.
"She didn't look six." Never a defense, you just need to die.
For those rare clients that say thank-you, leave a voice mail, send a card or flowers, you are very welcome. I keep them all, and they keep me going more than my pitiful COLA increase.
For the idiots who ask me how I sleep at night: I sleep just fine, thank you. There's nothing wrong with any of my clients that could not have been fixed with money or the presence of at least one caring adult in their lives. But that window has closed, and that loss diminishes us all.
this is in or around your local jail
Just say NO to Bonnie
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Reply to: anon-69769450@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Apr 22 21:24:55 2005
I am pleading with all of you who use this site to sell things,please, please, please hang up on me if I call you! If I e-mail you to buy your kitchen table, pick up your canary,or take those party favors left over from the Luau you had in '92, please don't e-mail me back!Pick someone else! I don't need your dishes, your area rugs, or your Genuine Gevalia coffee maker(which even I can get for free w/purchase.) I don't need one more kitchen gadget "As Seen on TV". I DO NOT NEED one more blessed thing from Craig's List. What I NEED is a haircut. I NEED a new car.(read: anything that's seen a car lot w/in the last 5 yrs) I NEED to paint my house. (by any chance has anybody got about 80 gallons of neutral exterior latex paint just sitting around?) See what I mean. I NEED MEDICATION!!!! and I need for all of you to just say NO to me if I respond to your post.
I used to be kind of pretty a few short months ago. Now I don't sleep much. I get up to check if I've missed any good posts after 10. I sleep with the phone under my pillow in case one of you call back about the Coach purse(barely used)or the box of 'party lite' candles for sale in Erie for only 5 bucks. I have put enough miles on my gas pig of an Expedition to have driven back and forth to Costa Rica.....twice. I have spent enough money in one dollar bills to have wall papered my master bath AND afford a highly skilled divorce attorney, with some to spare for a Spa weekend.I have to face facts. I am a suburban housewife with all the trimmings. I am not cool like I used to be. My brain is stimulated only by the puzzles in the morning paper and the thrill I get when I see one of you has moved and is selling the brand new appliances that came with the custom built home but are just not your taste. Thank you. Oh thank you! But now I have enough excess to fill another house.
So please if I call or mail you with any variation of Bonnie (from Broomfield)ie Bunny or Bambi or Bobbi(with an i) ,please just simply respond with 'Bonnie, is that you?'If there is the slightest hesitation in the responders response you'll do me a huge favor if you ignore the e-mail and/or HANG UP THE PHONE!and don't answer it again for at least 15 minutes. With your help and support, I can beat this thing. And I'm counting on you as the great philanthropic and compassionate people you are, to see me through this till you never hear from me again. Thank you ever so much! Bonnie:}
This one reminds me of Hugh and the Purple Monkey Mafia. :twisted:
Argh......Bella has made me addicted to this damn list.
Um... About That Enormous Purple Monkey....
If you were the surprise recipient of an enormous purple monkey today, I just wanted to tell you it's my fault and I'm profoundly sorry for putting you through that.
I'd had said enormous purple monkey in the garage for a long time, and I thought I had finally found a good use for it. See it's one of those huge, embarrassing stuffed contraptions they hand out as prizes at carnivals, and somehow I had ended up with it, hated it, crammed it into a back corner in the garage, and tried to forget about it. Well, just try to forget about an enormous purple monkey; it's impossible. It haunts your dreams, sings show tunes in the back of your mind, and shakes its purple ass in your face as if it were right there in front of you. I knew I had to get rid of the enormous purple monkey for good.
Well lo and behold, I saw an ad requesting toy donations for a children's charity and it was like the perfect answer to my enormous purple monkey problem. I eagerly looked forward to putting the enormous purple monkey into some towheaded, Bambi-eyed, cancer-stricken waif's arms and doing a small bit of good for the world (while accomplishing the much more important task of releasing myself from the clutches of the horrible batting-stuffed nightmare). My delight was boundless... but ultimately short-lived.
I glanced at the address where we had been directed to drop off the toys, and, enormous purple monkey in tow, I righteously headed off to make some sick kid's dream come true. I pulled up to 3478 on a pleasant residential street, unloaded the enormous purple monkey, and planted it on the front step of the house. My good deed for the day had been done. I had donated an adorable toy to a good cause and I was certain the owner of the house would come home and be overjoyed to find such a cute sight waiting for them, an enormous purple monkey donated to a cause so close to their heart, ho ho!
Well, fate can kiss my ass. Here's where I should have slowed down to think a little bit. As I drove off in a haze of self-congratulation, I glanced across the street to a porch at an address which I now see could only have been 3487, and saw it loaded with toys and games and sports equipment, and led myself on a mental detour. I thought "well goodness gracious me, if those people don't have a ton of toys! Wouldn't it be great if they donated all that to the charity, it's right across the street after all! Ho ho!" If I hadn't been distracted with my overload of hearty do-gooding I might have thought instead "oh look, maybe that's the address at which we're supposed to drop off the toys!" You see where I'm going with this.
Indeed when I got home I saw that the address I had scribbled down was 3487, not 3478, and, certain that I had inflicted the enormous purple monkey on 3478, I felt a feeling of immediate guilt. Not for depriving some whimpering, dying child of a fabulous enormous purple monkey toy, but rather for setting up some innocent stranger for the scare of his or her life at his or her own home. Damn. Some poor sap is going to pull into his or her driveway and find an enormous purple monkey looking back at him or her and I can only hope he or she doesn't drop dead of shock.
So, if this happens to you tonight, I just wanted to say I'm dreadfully sorry.
Are you my soul mate? - 40
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Reply to: anon-83488690@craigslist.org
Date: Sat Jul 09 22:50:08 2005
SWM in dead-end job seeks dumpy neurotic for mutual psychological torture, tepid sex, and co-dependency. I enjoy drinking, smoking, pornography, and self-righteous indignation.
I can't stand movies, and the last album I bought was The Marshall Tucker Band's Greatest Hits. I have middling intelligence but try to appear smarter by affecting a world-weary air, memorizing useless facts, and chuckling at my own mean-spirited, agenda-driven jokes.
I'm 40, but look 50 and feel 60. You are a whiny, bitter shrew with a misplaced sense of entitlement and unrealistic expectations. In time you will become coolly hostile when I don't fulfill every unmet need you've ever had. Bonus points if you just finished screwing every guy in town and but now want to take it slow with me.
My perfect night would include getting hammered in a sleazy bar while you flirt with seedy old drunks, followed by an embarrassing screaming match. I would be open to an unsatisfying fling that leaves me filled with regret and dread but prefer a long-term, soul crushing descent into booze and pills. No friendships. I don't need any goddamn friends.
Age unimportant, but I will condescend to women under 30 and rehash mother issues with women over 40.
Serious replies only, please.
:shock:
QuoteSerious replies only, please.
The icing on the cake.
Isn't this guy great? You'll note that I included the link so that anyone who wanted to could reply to this ad. :wink:
This is a true story swear to God - 36
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Reply to: anon-83113758@craigslist.org
Date: Thu Jul 07 23:08:40 2005
I work at Safeway in Strawberry and last night around 1:30am I was putting out the last of the empty veggie crates out back and I here this PSSSSST coming from somewhere in the parking lot and a few seconds later a woman in her mid-thirties peeks her head from the driver window of her car about 15 yards away and says SO ARE YOU DOWN WITH THE LADIES and I was all WHAT? and she says YOU HEARD ME and I say I GUESS SO, WHY and she says BECAUSE YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ARE and I didn't know what to say so she gets out of her car and walks towards me and I can see as she gets closer that she is beautiful except for the WHOLE LEFT SIDE OF HER SCALP IS SHAVED AND THE OTHER HALF IS FEATHERED SHOULDER LENGTH just like Kristy McNichol way back when and she's holding two huge tweezers - swear - like the biggest tweezers you have EVER SEEN and they are hooked together by a thick black cord and I started to freak inside a little bit thinking this is not the way I want to die out back behind Safeway smelling like rotten spinach leaves and bludgeoned to death by a pair of tweezers so I say WHAT'S UP? in a deep voice and she keeps walking towards me and when she's about 10 feet away she says with a smile THIS LADY NEEDS A JUMP START and lifts up the tweezers and I see that it's actually just a pair of jumper cables and inside I was like OH MY GOD I'M A MORON and exhaled a deep breath and say SURE so I grab my truck and drive it next to hers and help her jump her car but I was too afraid to ask what's up with the half shaved scalp before she winked and said THANKS MAN and drove off. Anyway back to cruising the personals just thought I'd give you a break.
:lol:
Lazy girl seeks same in boy form - 26
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Reply to: anon-82797404@craigslist.org
Date: Wed Jul 06 12:43:10 2005
so i'm about to turn 26...so this year i'm trying something different...the unadulterated truth...a list of my 10 worst qualities...here it is...in all its vile detail...this is not a plea of desperation...just simply one of boredom...
1. so...i like sleeping...a lot...i like couch time...i like just laying around...i'm not thoroughly opposed to getting off my ass...i go for walks sometimes...but i don't want some spunky work out nut running circles around me...i want someone who likes to chill in bed...and doesn't have some kind of sleepers remorse for missing a day of blindingly bright sunlight and 100+ degree tempertures in exchange for a comfy day in the cool darkness....
2. i'm messy...not dirty....messy...clothes miss the hamper...underwear ends up in the living room...throw pillows find their way to the kitchen...papers abound...piles of stuff to be sorted through...which usually end up being thrown out in a fit of frustration without a second glance...but on the flipside, i'm messy but not a packrat...i have no problem just tossing stuff, or donating it to a good cause...and i go through spells of neat freakness...but no OCD people please...it just won't work in the end...
3. i'm incredibly forgetful...i take at least 15 minutes to exit my apartment...and once i'm out, i spend another 10 minutes running back in to fetch vital things i've forgotten...like cell phone...keys...shoes...i also forget to pay bills...not so much where i'm getting my electric or phone shut off...but i pay a lot of late fees...i also suck at music...i love it...but am incapable of remembering what name goes with which band...even if i own the cd...or have seen them live...luckily my friends work with me...and burn me cds and attempt to train me using flashcards...oh and the same holds true with people's names... they just never stick...patience is required
4. i'm notoriously late...see forgetful for the explaination...again patience is required
5. i'm an over eater...i can eat as much as a 300lb man...i don't gain weight...i mean i don't have the perfect body...but no one's ever told me i'm fat or ugly anyway...in fact i'm kinda hot if you were to pit me against the average 26 year old...so i don't have a complex about it...and people are generally shocked at my secret ability...i just enjoy food...from farmers market veggies to snickers bars...and i won't ever order a salad just to make myself look girly...so you've got to be blessed with a high metabolism since i will probably dump you if you get fat...or if you become a workout nut..or refuse to eat with me...high metabolism is really the only answer...
6. i hate walmart...so must you...and you must know why we both hate it...
7. i can appear high maintenance...but not for long...when i first start dating someone they get the works...makeup...fixed hair...cute clothes...that lasts for maybe a month...then...i get tired..it's exhausting to spend that much time on one's appearance...not to mention the organization required to pull off such a look...i'm normally lucky to get out of the house showered, and fully clothed...forget matching and cuteness...and makeup...usually in a month my sparkling personality shines through so looks become secondary...so in essence...you must be slob friendly..
8. i smoke...i continually try to convince myself and others that i'm a non-smoker...and i'm close to achieving that status, but i'm guilty of lighting up multiple times a week covertly and rarely around alchohol since that's where the chain smoking begins...you can't smoke...i don't want to do it anymore, and being around someone who does will be unbearable...
9. i spend hours in front of a computer...it's part of my job...that's the only time i'm online...because i have no choice...but 40 hours a week is a long time...especially when all my friends have either no job...or cool jobs...or jobs that require actual work of them...so i sit here bored staring at the screen...wishing i could find a guy cool enough to be awarded boyfriend status...who's stuck online too....
10. so...i'm slightly supreficial...i need a picture in order to talk to you...it's a must...and not some grainy i took this from my camera phone...fuzzy...i actually weigh 600lbs and have poc marks on my face...but you'll never see them kinda pic...an actual picture...without it...no dice... 11. i kill plants regularly...but not on purpose...and i mourn their loss for weeks...
this is in or around cube city....
no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Quote from: LMNOQuoteSerious replies only, please.
The icing on the cake.
ICING MAKES ME VERY FAT!
Well, don't respond to the Lazy Girl above, she isn't interested. :lol:
Quote from: Eldora, Oracle of AlchemyWell, don't respond to the Lazy Girl above, she isn't interested. :lol:
Nope - she sure isn't. :mrgreen:
Haunted toaster --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-81332007@craigslist.org
Date: Mon Jun 27 23:48:34 2005
Free white toaster that I think is haunted. My husband got it when his friend died, and I think his friend decided to hang around. His friend doesn't really like me, and likes to burn the toast. I got a new toaster, so I want to get rid of this one. If nobody wants it, though, I'm going to drop it off the roof.
Help for the Confused
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Reply to: anon-80099097@craigslist.org
Date: Tue Jun 21 11:46:47 2005
Let me explain: You are a bag of meat. Basically you are an ambulatory digestive system with some reproductive organs attached. Aside from that you would just be a tube sucking things in one end and crapping them out the other. It's just one of those sociological oddities that one end of your digestive tube is acceptable to expose in public while the other, in most circles, is considered rude to stick in someone's face. In between eating and excreting and working on using those gonads to make more copies of genetic material which is your only reason for being anyway, you will have some things called thoughts and feelings that really don't amount to much anyway. Then you will die, maybe after passing on some of your genetic material, maybe not, and probably after not being happy most of the time and posting on Craig's List a lot about how fucked up you are, apparently under the misconception that it actually matters. Then after you die other little alimentary canals will gobble you up to fuel their thoughtless, albeit not unhappy, little lives.
OK. That's it. Carry on.
Pregnant lady in wife beater, riding the metro - m4w - 35
Reply to: anon-90568812@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Aug 12 05:02:02 2005
Our eyes met for a moment, and then you said, "Get your punk ass out that seat. I'm pregnant, mother fucker."
Your voice was like the finest melody, and so I gave you my seat, gladly, and in that moment I gave you my heart.
I never thought a wife beater could look good on a pregnant woman, especially when underneath it you wore a black bra. But baby, you made it work. The emerald green thong strap hanging over the waist of your tight beige stretch pants completed the ensemble perfectly. My metro angel.
You immediately pulled out your cell phone and started talking to someone, so I couldn't introduce myself. I don't want you to think I have no manners, after all.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you mentioned going to see "your baby daddy." I saw no wedding ring, so I am assuming the romance didn't work out. Is that right? Because I want you - oh, how I burn for you, but I won't be a homewrecker.
You looked close to going into labor, and I think I heard you say "I don't know when this little mother fucker is gonna drop out, but it better be soon." Perhaps once the blessed event has occurred, we could meet for a cup of chai tea?
Let me know. And if I never hear from you, I wish you well. Please know that I will always carry the memory of you in my heart.
And I thought I was grouchy when I was pregnant, holy fuck :shock: :lol:
You lost your stomach, I lost my mind
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Reply to: anon-87543200@craigslist.org
Date: Thu Jul 28 13:39:24 2005
Tuesday, noon, eastbound Fullerton bus. I sat pristinely in my pressed shirt and tie en route to job interview. You in your skintight black jeans and white t-shirt proclaiming an entertaining variety of pro-Puerto Rican slogans. Our eyes met and the gaze we shared transcended any cultural boundaries society would wish to impose upon our burdgeoning romance. I could tell by the jaundice in your skin that my piercing blue eyes and shocking pallor were twisting your insides in such a profound fit of ecstasy. Even so, I was taken aback when you suddenly rose to make a swift exit, unable to contain your glee, and bestowed SOMEONE ELSE with the contents of your stomach brought on by the rapture of our unspoken amor. The cruel pace of our unrelenting bus driver prevented me from following you out to the curb and left me to ponder why I was not the one to receive the angelic outpouring.
I stopped by the Home Depot on my way home and purchased a bucket. If you feel the same way, let me know and I'll also bring over some ginger ale.
i just wrote to the guy who loves the pregnant lady. told him it was triplets and they want him to be the daddy. fun
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/SssBella/pothead.jpg)
UPDATE: My CRAZY Pot Head Neighbor Lady
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Reply to: anon-96326584@craigslist.org
Date: Thu Sep 08 18:46:45 2005
Some of you may remember the pics I posted a while back of my neighbor, who wears either a kitchen POT or a tinfoil hat on her head - every day. Well let me tell you she is officially CRAZY (I know, as if the head wear didn't already give it away). Allow me if you will to replay the events of last night around 10:30:
I stepped out back and sat down on my patio chair to have a smoke before heading to bed. Now sometimes the Pot Head Lady steps out in the evening also, so I didn't think anything of it when I heard her sliding door open. Until she started yelling. I looked around, then realized she was yelling at ME. Here's how it went -
Pot Head Lady: Hey you fucking ASSHOLE! Next time you fucking shoot me do it to my face!
Me: (looking around confusedly) Excuse me?
PHL: (basically repeating the same thing over again)
At this time I should say that I was thinking 'SHIT...hahaha...just MAYBE she was, in her own backwards way, talking about the pictures I took of her and she had found them on craigslist!' Now that would be funny, but that was over a month ago and I doubt she just found them now.
Me: WHAT are you talking about??
PHL: (her tone temporarily changing to sound almost-sane) Do you live there?
Me: Umm, Yes...
PHL: You fucking TAZERED me in the back when I wasn't looking ASSHOLE! You SONOFABITCH YOU MADE MY KIDNEY HURT!!!
Me: WHAT?!
PHL: YOU FUCKING LIAR YOU DID IT - YOU TAZERED ME IN THE BACK!! Next time do it to my face!!! ASSHOLE!
At this point I have nothing. I don't know whether to laugh and run for the camera again or get pissed because I have two young kids sleeping in the house and she is YELLING at me in my own backyard. Hoping to get her to SHUT UP, I decided to go with "Ok, you need to go back into your house lady."
She looked at me for a second, muttered to herself about me being a "real class act" or something, then ignored me, watered her plants, and went back in.
Never a dull moment here in Gresham.
STAY TUNED...
Looking for a terrible boyfriend for one week. - 23
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Reply to: anon-95223717@craigslist.org
Date: Sat Sep 03 10:52:44 2005
I am looking for a terrible boyfriend for one week to restore my happiness in being single. Now that school has started again I find myself in classes where 80% of my classmates are either married/engaged/in a relationship. I was content to be single all summer but now that I have been exposed to all these happy people in relationships, I'm starting to wonder if I need one too.
In my head, I know I don't, but let's make this concrete with an experience. This is where you come in. I need you around for one week in the role of a bad boyfriend to renew my glee in being single.
My requirements of you:
-You are attractive. Sorry, but if this is to work out for me, you have to be a pretty boy who is nice to look at but a total dick otherwise.
-Be very needy. Call me several times a day, checking where I am, who I'm with, etc.
-Have poor or no manners. When we go out, I want you to not use your napkin, tip poorly or not at all, never open doors, that sort of thing.
-It would be nice if you have politically conservative leanings so we can get into fun arguments
-Stare at other girls when we're out together. Bonus points for flirting with them.
-Don't listen when I talk, and interrupt me when you can.
-Insist on driving us everywhere, but proceed to get so drunk that I have to drive your car or call a taxi.
-Wear ugly clothes, or at least clothing inappropriate for every occasion.
-Have wildly inaccurate information and unfounded opinions. It is your mission that you are right about everything.
-Steal something of mine. I will set out one designated thing that you must steal from my house. You will steal this and nothing else.
-Don't be too upset when I end things after a week (and part of this deal is that I am the one to break things off). You know what you're getting into and do not form any untoward bond.
After the week is up we can either be friends and laugh about this, or we can pretend that we've never met and ignore each other if we happen to meet in a public place.
What do you get out of it?
At least 5 nights out (you pay your half, sorry. I am not rich). One stolen item (of my choosing). A good story to tell people later. Satisfaction that you are also single. A chance to vent your spleen. A dissatisfying tryst for both of us.
You'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity!
What about sex? She doesn't mention sex.
And what better way to prove you're a dick than being selfish in the bedroom?
hollywood wants the script
kate hudson and ashton kutcher in
"the terrible boyfriend"
I didn't see that one. Sounds like this girl might have though, huh?
Quote from: SssBella, Oracle of DoomI didn't see that one. Sounds like this girl might have though, huh?
nobody saw it
i made it up
Quote from: fluffyQuote from: SssBella, Oracle of DoomI didn't see that one. Sounds like this girl might have though, huh?
nobody saw it
i made it up
Oh. I need more coffee, huh?
Dear Coworkers: please don't talk to me in the john
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Reply to: anon-93229426@craigslist.org
Date: Wed Aug 24 19:19:13 2005
Dear Coworkers:
I understand that the nature of our job (trading stocks, which begins effectively at 8:30am central time) causes us as a group of individuals to feel the need to deposit our morning bodily waste at approximately the same time as each other, every single day, so as to be unencumbered during the course of normal business hours. Further, I understand that a men's room with only 4 toilet stalls is a woefully inadequate proposition to satisfy the needs of 150 male individuals who all must deposit said waste during the span of a brief half hour every day before the market opens. Finally, I understand that the inadequacy of our men's room to service everybody's bodily needs simultaneously causes the unfortunate formation of long lines in the restroom foyer, alongside the sinks, between the entryway and the stalls.
HOWEVER, I do not understand your need to consistently force conversation upon me prior to, during, or immediately following the act of dropping the cosby kids off at the pool. Please refrain, in the future, from engaging in any act of this nature, limited, but not exclusive to, the following examples:
Case 1:
Me, in line for the next available stall
Coworker #1 (in line behind me): "Oh man, this one's gonna be a doosie. I had some corn for dinner last night"
... this is completely unnecessary. Not only don't I want to talk to you while I'm quietly biding my time to deposit my unholiest of unholies, I certainly don't need to hear that when you sit down in the stall next to me, the squishy, ploppy sound which is inevitably coming from you, will be the result of chunky partially digested corn coming out of your anus.
Case 2:
Me, on the pooper, (relatively) quietly minding my own business and reading the sports page.
Coworker #2: "Hey Jake, is that you over there?"
(uncomfortable silence)
Me: "um, no"
Coworker #2: "Oh, sorry. It sounded like Jake"
... first of all, what? How do you know what Jake sounds like on the john? Second, why do you care if your buddy Jake is the one sitting next to you while you're in there? pick up a goddamn newspaper and keep to yourself
Case #3:
Me, exiting a stall, having finished my business, on my way to wash my hands.
Coworker #3 (next in line): "Thanks man"
... um, sure? You're welcome? Be sure to enjoy the uncomfortable warmth that my bare ass left on the toilet seat which will invariably remain until you sit down and realize you wish you were in a nice, isolated bathroom stall, in which you wouldn't have to think about the bare ass of the last person who happened to have shat there.
My point is this: I enjoy the relative anonymity that a public restroom stall should provide to one while he or she is doing his or her business. I find it difficult to believe that we, as humans, feel the need to experience situations such as this communally, and as such, I have only request:
Please don't talk to me in the john and leave me the fuck alone!
this is in or around the john
juror at your trial - m4w
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Reply to: anon-99971633@craigslist.org
Date: Sun Sep 25 21:38:12 2005
As fate and a juror summons would have it, you entered my life. I was juror #4 at your 2 day trial for drug possession, assault and battery, and resisting arrest at Circuit Court at 26th & California. Unfortunately, I like "bad girls". I am afflicted with "opposites attract" syndrome in the worst way. The mere mention of "26th & California" or that late night call from a raspy, but lovely voice saying, "Hey baby, I'm in jail" warms my heart and brings back fond memories.
I was so captivated by your profile that I could hardly pay attention to what was said; evidence this or that, blah, blah, blah. I love the Snoopy, butterfly, and bunny tattoos on your neck and arms. You had a cute snarl for each witness. As hard as I tried, there was no swaying the verdicts in your favor because lets face it, you were guilty as hell!
Give me a shout out in 2 to 4 years...depending on good behavior. I will assume it's the latter based on your tantrum and the sucker punch to your lawyer. I'll look out for your release date!!!
Good luck and be good,
Juror#4
Quote from: SssBella, Oracle of Doom(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/SssBella/pothead.jpg)
UPDATE: My CRAZY Pot Head Neighbor Lady
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Reply to: anon-96326584@craigslist.org
Date: Thu Sep 08 18:46:45 2005
Some of you may remember the pics I posted a while back of my neighbor, who wears either a kitchen POT or a tinfoil hat on her head - every day. Well let me tell you she is officially CRAZY (I know, as if the head wear didn't already give it away). Allow me if you will to replay the events of last night around 10:30:
I stepped out back and sat down on my patio chair to have a smoke before heading to bed. Now sometimes the Pot Head Lady steps out in the evening also, so I didn't think anything of it when I heard her sliding door open. Until she started yelling. I looked around, then realized she was yelling at ME. Here's how it went -
Pot Head Lady: Hey you fucking ASSHOLE! Next time you fucking shoot me do it to my face!
Me: (looking around confusedly) Excuse me?
PHL: (basically repeating the same thing over again)
At this time I should say that I was thinking 'SHIT...hahaha...just MAYBE she was, in her own backwards way, talking about the pictures I took of her and she had found them on craigslist!' Now that would be funny, but that was over a month ago and I doubt she just found them now.
Me: WHAT are you talking about??
PHL: (her tone temporarily changing to sound almost-sane) Do you live there?
Me: Umm, Yes...
PHL: You fucking TAZERED me in the back when I wasn't looking ASSHOLE! You SONOFABITCH YOU MADE MY KIDNEY HURT!!!
Me: WHAT?!
PHL: YOU FUCKING LIAR YOU DID IT - YOU TAZERED ME IN THE BACK!! Next time do it to my face!!! ASSHOLE!
At this point I have nothing. I don't know whether to laugh and run for the camera again or get pissed because I have two young kids sleeping in the house and she is YELLING at me in my own backyard. Hoping to get her to SHUT UP, I decided to go with "Ok, you need to go back into your house lady."
She looked at me for a second, muttered to herself about me being a "real class act" or something, then ignored me, watered her plants, and went back in.
Never a dull moment here in Gresham.
STAY TUNED...
:lol:
That pot looks a little photoshopped though.
Yeah, it does. But I still couldn't resist this one.
I accidentally molested my cat... - 30
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Reply to: anon-99621738@craigslist.org
Date: Fri Sep 23 22:51:19 2005
So...I haven't had a boyfriend in 7 months. I was cuddling my cat today and we got to snugglin' and I started kissing his soft face and snuggling him harder and the kisses got longer and longer and he has such a great sense of intimacy and he was purring and purring and I was kissing his neck and his tummy and then all of a sudden he jumped up and looked at me like I was the biggest pervert on earth. We were both totally uncomfortable. I haven't seen him since.
I need a man! Help me! Help my Cat!
this is in or around LA
:shock:
gods
how many times can I use this line
its ok to love your pets, just dont
love
your pets
It's just gross, isn't it?
Only my Alice kitty even lets me pick her up and the others would claw my eyes out if I tried to kiss them.
Even if I wanted to. Which I don't.