tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-311022082024-02-20T14:53:33.514-08:00The Speed of Dark...Nevermorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824537242473811559noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31102208.post-71479146982757654062007-06-19T17:51:00.000-07:002007-06-28T15:25:52.415-07:00naughty lolatwo posts today..because this one really cracked me up...these are singles ads placed in the London Review of Books...<br /><br /><bold>Excerpted from They Call Me Naughty Lola by David Rose. Copyright c 2006 by the London Review of Books.</bold><br /> <br /> <br /><strong> <em><i><bold>Ads placed by men:</bold></i> </em></strong><br /><br />Bald, fat, short, and ugly male, 53, seeks short-sighted woman with tremendous sexual appetite.<br /><br />Unashamed triumphalist male for the past 46 years. Will I bore you? Probably. Do I care? Probably not.<br /><br />Bastard. Complete and utter. Whatever you do, don't reply -- you'll only regret it.<br /><br />I like my women the way I like my kebab. Found by surprise after a drunken night out, and covered in too much tahini. Before long I'll have discarded you on the pavement of life, but until then you're the perfect complement to a perfect evening. Man, 32. Rarely produces winning metaphors.<br /><br />Romance is dead. So is my mother. Man, 42, inherited wealth.<br /><br />Save it. Anything you've got to say can be said to my lawyer. But if you're not my ex-wife, why not write to box no. 5377? I enjoy vodka, canasta, evenings in, and cold, cold revenge.<br /><br />To some, I am a world of temptation. To others, I'm just another cross-dressing pharmacist. Male, 41.<br /><br />My finger on the pulse of culture, my ear to the ground of philosophy, my hip in the medical waste bin of Glasgow Royal Infirmary. 14% plastic and counting -- geriatric brainiac and compulsive NHS malingering fool (M, 81), looking for richer, older sex-starved woman on the brink of death to exploit and ruin every replacement operation I've had since 1974. Box no. 7648 (quickly, the clock's ticking, and so is this pacemaker). <br /><br />You're a brunette, 6', long legs, 25-30, intelligent, articulate and drop-dead gorgeous. I, on the other hand, am 4'10", have the looks of Herve Villechaize and carry an odour of wheat. No returns and no refunds at box no. 3321. <br /><br /><em><strong><i><bold>Ads Placed by Women:</bold></i></strong></em><br /><br />Blah blah, whatever. Indifferent woman. Go ahead and write. Box no. 3253. Like I care.<br /><br />Your stars for today: A pretty Cancerian, 35, will cook you a lovely meal, caress your hair softly, then squeeze every damn penny from your adulterous bank account before slashing the tyres of your Beamer. Let that serve as a warning. Now then, risotto?<br /><br />Attention male London Review of Books readers: 'Greetings, earthling -- I have come to infest your puny body with legions of my spawn' is no way to begin a reply. Female, 36 -- suspicious of any men declaring themselves to be in possession of a 'great sense of humor.'<br /><br />I'm just a girl who can't say 'no' (or 'anaesthetist'). Lisping Rodgers and Hammerstein fan, female lecturer in politics (37) WLTM man to 40 for thome enthanted eveningth. <br /><br />Love is strange -- wait 'til you see my feet. F, 34, wide-fitting Scholl's.Nevermorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824537242473811559noreply@blogger.com0