personal ads

 Excerpted from the book "A Collection of Personal Ads
 From Alternative Newspapers," by Skippy Williams and
 Zohre Crumpton, 1996, Simon and Schuster:

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     Bitter, unsuccessful middle aged loser wallowing in an
     unending sea of inert, drooping loneliness looking for
     24 year old needy leech-like hanger-on to abuse with
     dull stories, tired sex and Herb Alpert albums.

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     Me--trying to sleep on the bus station bench, pleading
     with you to give me a cigarette;  you--choking on my
     odor, tripping over your purse trying to get away; at
     the last moment, our eyes meeting.  Yours were blue.
     Can I have a dollar?

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     Imp and angel. Disembodied head in jar, 24, seeks pixie
     goddess to fiddle with while Rome burns.  You bring
     marshmallows.  No.  I make joke.  You like laugh?  I like
     comebacks and confessions.  Send photo of someone
     else.

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     I am spitting kitty. Ftt Fttttttt.  I am angry bear.
     Grrrrr.  I am large watermelon seed stuck in your nose.
     Zermmmmmmmmmm.  I am small biting spider in your
     underwear.  Yub yub yub.
     No mimes.

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     Three toed mango peeler searching for wicked lesbian
     infielder.  Like screaming and marking territory with
     urine?  Let's make banana enchiladas together in my
     bathtub.  You bring the salsa.

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     Mongoloid spastic underwear model with extra limb (you
     guess where?) in search of bottlenosed dolphin and
     extra prickly cactus juice.
     Soup is good food.

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     I like eating mayonnaise and peanut butter sandwiches
     in the rain, watching Barney Miller reruns, peeing on
     birds in the park and licking strangers on the subway;
     you eat beets raw, have climbed Kilimanjaro,
     and sweat freely and often.
     Must wear size five shoes.

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     Timber! Falling downward is the lumber of my love.  You
     grind your axe of passion into my endangered headlands.
     Don't make me into a bureau.  I want to be lots and
     lots of toothpicks.

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     Small lumpy squid monkey seeks healthy woman with no
     identifying scars, any age.  Must have all limbs.
     Recommend appreciation of high-pitched, screeching
     noises.  Must like being bored and lonely.  Must not
     touch the squids, EVER.

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     There is a little place in the jumbled sock drawer of
     my heart where you match up all the pairs, throw out
     the ones with holes in them, and buy me some of those
     neat dressy ones with the weird black and red
     geometrical designs on them.

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     Mmmm Pez!  Rabid Wonder Woman fan looking for someone
     in satin tights, fighting for our rights and the old
     red, white 'n blue.  You look like Linda Carter?  Big
     plus.  Know all words to theme song?  Marry me.

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     Sanctimonious mordacious raconteur seeking same for
     hijinks and hiballs.  SJM 27 wants to look someone in
     the eye so don't be tall. Or, if you can't help it,
     enjoy laying down.  Wanna swim upstream?

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     Remember that summer you spent with your parents in
     Hawaii and how mad you were that they made you go?  And
     how you were hopelessly bored until you saw the most
     gorgeous man you'd ever encountered strolling down the
     beach looking at you, skillfully removing your skimpy
     bikini with his piercing eyes?  And how you spent the
     last month imagining him taking you in every possible
     way, masturbating feverishly day and night, wishing he
     would reappear, but he never did because you were
     15 and he would have gone to jail?  That was me, and
     you just turned 18.

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     Angry, simple-minded, balding, partially blind
     ex-circus flipper boy with a passion for covering
     lovers in sour cream and gravy seeks exotic, heavily
     tattooed piercing fanatic, preferably hairy, either
     sex, for whippings, bizarre sex and fashion consulting.
     No freaks.