Best of Craigslist

Best of Craigslist http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best postings from craigslist.org, selected by readers en-us Copyright 2009, craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best of Craigslist Collection 2009-10-13T18:21:41-04:00 2 daily Can I flush your head in a toilet while blasting Hall & Oates? m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1420147998.html I want to flush your head repeatedly in the toilet while making love to your behind. Hall & Oates will be playing at top volume, at some point "Highway to the Danger Zone" will be played for sure. My house smells amazing and my penis is not sick or deformed. Don't act like you haven't thought about this exact scenario before. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-10-13T18:21:41-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1420147998.html Can I flush your head in a toilet while blasting Hall & Oates? m4w text need someone to sit on lap http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1386413954.html I have bad back problems, and need someone to sit on my lap for four hours a day ,it helps me straigten my, back I know it sound weird but it helps , willing to pay ten dollars and hour for four hours , twice a week , has to be in good shape and looking for a male to do it because they are stronger to do this sort of job, if you are interested e mail , this is not bs ,you could watch tv, use computer I will even give you food, please respond , just want to let you know that I am not gay or anything like that , just need the weight of you leaning on me , that is all, and sitting on me helps , trust me this is not what I wanted but it helps, thank you <ul> <li> Location: lynbrook <li> This is a part-time job. <li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li>Please, no phone calls about this job! <li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-09-22T05:45:55-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1386413954.html need someone to sit on lap text First posted a month ago? Still no roommate? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1348435558.html Many of you posted your first ads on here a couple of weeks ago, a month ago, or even longer ago than that. And you're still posting. Are you wondering why you still don't have a roommate? Read on. 1) Great Fort Greene apartment? If all of you who claim your apartments are in Fort Greene or Clinton Hill really lived in Fort Greene or Clinton Hill, Fort Greene and Clinton Hill combined would be the size of Wyoming. There's nothing wrong with Bed-Stuy, but when you lie about the fact that you live there, you make it seem like there is. If your nearest stop on the G is Bedford-Nostrand, you do NOT live in Clinton Hill or Fort Greene. So stop lying! 2) 15 minutes to Manhattan? This is one of my favorites. All of you in the nether regions of Bushwick claiming to be 15 minutes from Manhattan have been inhaling those industrial fumes for too long. Um, maybe if you live in the station agent booth, and your final destination is the station agent booth on the other end, and the train arrives four seconds after you pass through the turnstile, and the train skips a few stops en route, maybe it'll be close to 15 minutes. Even according to the MTA's L train schedule, from Myrtle Ave to First Ave is 15 minutes, but you're saying you live close to Halsey or Wilson. What gives? What is the usual commute, given the walk to the train, the wait for the train, frequent changes in service, trains often being held before being allowed to proceed, and so on and so forth? 3) You must be neat and clean? HA HA HA. Before you demand a "neat and clean" roommate, take a look in the mirror. If I had a dollar for every apartment I've seen with a grease-covered stove, hair decorating every surface in the bathroom, and dead plants lining the window sills, I'd have close to a month's rent. 4) Please email for pictures? Don't be lame. This process is laborious enough on both ends. Don't add time-wasting steps. Some of you claim you couldn't take pictures because the room was still occupied. So? Is it barricaded? The outgoing roomie refused to let you in? Please. My favorite was the post from "two photographers" - THEY had no pics in their ad. Put pics in your ad. 5) You think I don't know what a subway entrance looks like? OK, many of you did include pics, but WTF? A pic of the stairs leading down to the train? How does THAT help? If craigslist allows four pics, here's the deal: the available bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room. Simple. (And not thumbnails, unless they're clickable.) 6) Rite Aid, Starbucks, Duane Reade, Dunkin Donuts...? What is with the rundown on local chain stores? When you don't even describe the basics of the living situation? We're living in New York. The chains are available almost everywhere. Plus, if you don't lie about the location of your place (See number 1), we can find out easily enough which stores are nearby. What we CAN'T find out on our own is the following: How many people live in the apartment? What is the size of the available bedroom (not as in "big" or "medium" - but actual measurements)? 7) Is punctuation a big bore? Accurate spelling just for nerds? OK, so you're not being graded on your ad by your Freshman Comp instructor. But give the poor reader a break. On a typical day there are hundreds of new posts to slog through. A few well-placed commas and periods can make the process so much smoother. And what is the deal with all the "quite apartments"? Quite what? Quite clean, quite stylish, quite far from the nearest coffee shop? Quite quiet? Please. Have a great day. <ul> <li> Location: Here's why... <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-08-29T11:41:15-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1348435558.html First posted a month ago? Still no roommate? text Need Gal for Unique (Legit) Part-Time Position http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1309403657.html Hi. Even for Craig's List, this is going to be a strange ad. But I promise, it's legit. I'm a single, straight guy, in my early 40’s, recently moved to NYC, with almost no social circle here (and, even worse, I work on my own). No history of mental illnesss, jail time or listening to country music. Moving to NY has been fantastic, but the one thing is, I have been finding it hard to meet women. So I’m doing the normal, typical, rational thing that any guy in my position would do -- I'm looking to hire a female "wingman," that is, a "wingwoman," to break the ice for me in social situations. Got your attention, didn’t I? Good. Keep reading… This is a real job I'm offering; it's not a personal ad in disguise. I'm also not a journalist trolling for a story, a Nigerian scamster, or a reality show producer. Perhaps more surprisingly, I'm also not a freak, weirdo or serial killer - I am just not good at walking up to a woman I don't know and getting beyond "Hi" and I want to do something about it. This would be a part-time, occasional gig. Get-togethers would be in Manhattan or occasionally Brooklyn; sometimes afternoons, sometimes evenings. (Generally speaking, NOT in bars or nightclubs. I am more of a <a href="http://hellskitchenfleamarket.com/fleamarket/index.php">HK Flea Market</a> / <a href="http://www.greenfleamarkets.com/">Greenflea</a> / <a href="http://www.themoth.org/about">Moth</a> / <a href="http://nymag.com/listings/nightlife/big-terrific/">Big Terrific</a> / <a href="http://new.lincolncenter.org/live/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=167&Itemid=69">Midsummer Night Swing</a> type of guy. <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/31/movies/31grant.html?_r=1&hp">This</a> is also my kind of thing.) Probably 2-5 hours per stint. We would only meet in public places and I would pay you ($20/hour) cash. And you don't have to be single or even "unattached" to apply - there's no "hanky panky" involved. (I really don’t care if you have a boyfriend, girlfriend or significant other, as long as that person knows about and is cool with the situation.) If you want to know more details about the arrangement, check out these articles: <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/10/fashion/10WING.html?pagewanted=print&position=">Are You With Him? Why Yes, Want to Date Him?</a> <a href="http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2008/feb/13/wingwomen/?print">Wingwomen</a> (8 pages long) I am NOT looking to looking for someone to “lure” 100 unsuspecting women my way so I can sleep with and then dump them. This is SO not about that. At this point in my life, I’m not looking for 100 women, I’m looking for ONE special one. This is all about Quality Over Quanity. And I’m probably going to hire several different “wingwomen,” part-time, depending on who’s interested in doing what kinds of things. Please, please, please – only reply to this posting if the following description matches you pretty much exactly: (1) Reading this post, you first thought, "This MUST be a scam or a gag." Then after you read it some more, you started to think, "Hey, maybe there's something to this..." (2) You then thought to yourself, "Huh, this TOTALLY describes me. You mean I can get PAID for this...?" (Very possibly, a friend forwarded you this post with the subject heading, “This job was made for you!”) (3) You appreciate the inherent ridiculous of this whole concept, but are nevertheless intrigued. In fact, assuming that I am not a freak or a weirdo, this sounds like the most fun job ever. (4) You are an adventurous person. You are not afraid to try new things. (5) You have a good sense of humor and probably don't take yourself too seriously. (6) You are a socially outgoing, and socially-savvy, person. (7) Your natural modesty aside, you know that you’re very, very smart. (Minimum requirement: you know the difference between your, you're and yore.) (If you can use affect and effect as both a noun and a verb, let’s just skip the wingwomaning and elope.) You may have a day job for the money, and one or two side projects going on involving something you're really interested in. (8) You're discreet and not a gossip. I plan to keep your involvement confidential, I expect you to do the same for mine. This is NOT something for you to write about, even in your blog. It's private. Really. (9) You are looking for some part-time, occasional work - afternoons and/or evenings and/or weekends. (10) You are 30-something or older. (It will be weird if you are young enough to be my daughter.) Okay, weirder. Okay, by this point, Gentle Reader, I figure you're thinking one of 3 things: (A) "This guy is REALLY wacko." (B) "Yeah, this is something I could do, I guess. How hard could it be?" (C) "Oh. My. God. THIS JOB WAS MADE FOR ME! That is so bizarre!" (But in a good way.) IF - AND PLEASE, ONLY IF - YOU ARE ONE OF THE TINY GROUP OF PEOPLE IN CATEGORY C, I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR FROM YOU. If you'd like to apply for the gig, send me an email telling me about yourself and please include a photo. If you're embarrassed, scared or weirded out, you don't have to include your real name, but please be honest about everything else. If you're going to apply, PLEASE spend a little time telling me about yourself - just one or two lines isn't going to do me (or you) any good. If your photo is too large to be sent to the Craig's List email address, you can email me directly at docinnyc at Hotmail. If all goes well, we can meet at some centrally-located, well-lit coffee shop (with plenty of escape routes) and check each other out, and if we're both satisfied, we can take it from there. Thanks for reading! Doc PS... A few notes... If you feel you aren't the right gal for me, but you KNOW the right gal for me - in either sense - yes, by all means, go ahead and forward her this ad. (Your Maid of Honor status is guaranteed.) By popular request, I've now set up a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1806505644&v=info">Facebook profile</a>. Feel free to send me a friend request. However, please don't JUST send me a link to your Facebook profile, and don't JUST "friend" me out of the blue - if you're interested in the position, you have to send me an email so I can keep track of things. Please don't just reply with a bunch of photos. I'm not looking for a model! Please don't reply WITHOUT including a photo. Sorry, I won't be opening any such emails. Promise. This is not a scam, so please don’t write me saying, "I think this is a scam, but I'm applying for the job anyways…" (That doesn’t even make any sense!!!) If you think this is a scam, God bless you, but just don't write me. Please. I'm looking for someone who reads the post and says, "I get it. This will be fun." If that wasn't your reaction, then this gig is not for you. (BTW, what sort of scam could it be, anyways? What's my Evil Master Plan? To lure you to a crowded Starbucks and spill a latte on you? Why??? No wait – DON'T ANSWER THAT. Never mind.) Also, please don't send me hate mail. Really, is there any point? (Okay, if you absolutely MUST send me hate mail, please at least make it direct and to the point. A simple, "I hate you, you are a monster!" will more than suffice.) And finally, just to clear things up, I am NOT actually a doctor. (Several people inquired in their emails.) "Doc" is an old nickname of mine (mostly because I've always had a knack for solving *other* people's problems, strangely enough). Sorry if that was misleading (or if you were trying to hook up with a single doctor). Thank you for reading my novel-length post. The audiobook and Kindle versions will be available soon. Bye! Doc For search: part time, part-time, parttime, sales, acting, actor, actress, model, modeling, Pilates, student, social, pickup, dating, coach, coaching, waitress, dog walker, dogwalker, dog-walker, tutor, dance, dancer, dancing, promotions, promote, promoting, writer, editor, researcher, fact check, factcheck, fact-checker, factcheck, bartender, bartending, interesting, Girl Friday, assistant, personal assistant, Gal Friday, stylist, nanny, housesit, housesitter, housesitter, house sit, house-sit, house-sitter, fact check, factchecker, freelance, copwriter, copyedit, copy edit, copyeditor, copy editor, I can't believe you've read this far, you really really need to move to the next post, look i'm telling you this as a friend, you've got to move on, thank you Lord it's about time <ul> <li> Location: Manhattan/Brooklyn <li> Compensation: $20/hour <li> This is a part-time job. <li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li>Please, no phone calls about this job! <li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-08-06T15:42:31-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1309403657.html Need Gal for Unique (Legit) Part-Time Position text I saw that crash on the Taconic last Sunday... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1306619502.html Driver in N.Y. wreck that killed 8 was intoxicated Im sure other people on this board must have seen it as well. I was drvivng home from my summer house upstate. There was a 10 minute rain storm so everyone slowed down, then the rain stopped and everyone sped up again.... Suddenly about a mile from the turn to get on the sawmill, cars just stopped . Brake lights as far as I could see. Stopped in the middle of a three lane highway...There were trees in the median bewtween the north and southbound lanes, and behind the tress was a huge, black plume of smoke going up into the sky. I was on a motorcycle, so i could go between the cars and move up to see what happened. Once I came around the bend, off to the side of the southbound lane, a mini van was upside down, completly engufled in flames. I could feel the heat from the flames as I pulled by. Hundreds of people were running from both sides of the North and South lanes of the Taconic. I pulled over and got off my bike, and try to take in what was happening. The burning mini van was popping and sparking every once in a while, I assume something inside was making small explosions as they caught fire. I pulled behind a white van on the side of the highway, a Chinese man got out and was talking to me but frankly i cant remember a word we said to each other. About 20 feet from the burning mini van, there were clusters of people kneeling around what I assumed were the crash victims. Every 10 feet or so, there was another cluster, kneeling down. Each one had a person pumping the chest of the victims while the other people were helping any way the can. Everyone was running with they're cellphones screaming frantically. I noticed what looked like a station wagon, across the median. The entire front was smashed to the point where you wondered where the hell the engine could have gone. it looked like the cars front began at the front seat. I noticed the cluster of people closest to me, probably 15 feet away, and I saw a pair of tiny blue shorts, and small legs sticking out from the group of people. I knew it was a child, and as the father of a 6 year old daughter, I knew it was a girl. I couldnt see her face, only her blue shorts and her legs. Nothing was moving. A man in a white shirt was pumping her chest, and screaming for help. I thought for a moment of walking over to see what i could do, but it was so chaotic, and there were so many people already. People just abandoned theyre cars on the highway and ran to help. I looked at her legs, and there wasnt a scratch on them. I looked at the man pumping her chest, with the white shirt on. Every so often he'd turn to scream something, and there was no blood on the front of his shirt.I thought about what she may have looked like from the waist up, and I'm really glad I never got to see her face. There was one cop there when I arrived, and you could see on her face, that she was really freaking out. She must have just pulled up before I got there and was assesing the situation. I'll never forget the look of panic on her face. One man ran passed us and got a first aid kit out of his trunk. All this happened in probably 4 minutes. Now you could hear people screaming to get back in they're cars because the fire engines couldn't get through . The fire engine was stuck behind all the cars on the Northbound side. Sirens and lights wailing.. An EMS guy jumped from the fire truck and started running towords the scene, screaming into his walkie. I noticed a man leaning against his car weeping. Total strangers were coming up to him and huggin him, and by his body language and his movements of what he was describing, I knew he was one of the people that pulled these kids out of that burning car. He was inconsolable. So were the people hugging him. I got back on my motorcycle, and turned on to the Sawmill, back to NY. I saw her legs and blue shorts over and over again. i could not get them out of my head. I pulled over a mile down the road, got of my bike and starting crying harder then I've cried in a long time. I've been a New Yorker for 23 years. It takes a lot to shock or disturb us, but holy shit , this disturbed me. It was a horrible thing to see. It's effected me in a surprising way, still is a week later. I have a daughter, and the thought of course thats been running through my head, along with the never ending vision of those little blue shorts, and pale white legs, not moving, it could have been her. In my dreams when i see the man in the white shirt pumping her chest, i walk over and see my daughters face. Not a scratch on her, just eyes closed as if shes sleeping. I imagine thats what that little girl looked like while they were desperatly trying to get her to breathe. I rode by the spot yesterday coming back from upstate again. Theres a big chunk of earth where the mini van rolled and scorched grass where it sat and burned. I thought I saw a cross with some flowers on it , but I wasnt sure. As the facts come out about what really happened, and turns out this woman was drunk, and high, I'm torn between anger and incredible sadness. Anger as an adult and father, who's sole purpose in life is to protect, and teach my child right from wrong. Anger having seen a dead child laying in the middle of the median, knowing that child was probably singing or playing with her doll, having no concept she was going the wrong way on a fucking highway, trusting her mother. Completely innocent. My God, I hope 4 those girls died on impact. Never knowing what hit them. I can honestly say, having sene that wreckage, they must have. Sadness as a husband and father. This man will now have to explain to his only living son, what happened to his mother and his sisters one day. Not to mention the aunts and uncles of the nieces she also killed. If anyone from these shattered families do read this, you have my deepest sympathy . Its little help but try to take some solace in the fact that hundreds, and I mean hundreds of people ran to help as best they could. It was utter chaos, but these people had the instinct and bravery to jump out of theyre cars, and run to a burning car to pull everyone out. They did the best they could with the little they had. It was truly inspiring...... I will NEVER get the image of those little blue shorts, and legs out of my head......I don't have some big message to end on or a moral of any kind. I'm simply getting what I saw off my chest, though it will be with me for the rest of my life. Thanks for listening. Peace <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-08-05T01:46:21-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1306619502.html I saw that crash on the Taconic last Sunday... text You're the Hasidic Jew who tried to kill me. I'm the girl on the bike. - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1295924472.html Dear Sir. We had our encounter on Bedford Avenue this afternoon, just south of Division. I was the petite brunette in a white sundress, riding a red road bike in the rain; you were the Hasidic gentleman (and I use the term loosely) in a blue SUV who came up on my back wheel, honking, and attempted to run me out of the bike lane before swerving directly in front of me and pulling up to the curb ahead. You refused to roll down your window and talk to me after this incident, leaving me to shout, "That's against the law" at the rain-streaked glass and then continue home. And while it *is* against the law -- both the laws that govern New York City drivers, and also those that govern general human decency -- what I really wanted to say to you was simultaneously less accusatory and more important. This is it. I know that the bike lanes aren't great. You may not believe it, but cyclists don't like riding next to you anymore than you like sharing the road with us. Given the choice between inhaling your exhaust and pedaling blithely down a forested greenway, I'd always take the latter. I also know that presence of cyclists on busy streets can make driving in the city even more nerve-wracking than usual, and that some of us antagonize the shit out of drivers by disobeying traffic laws, failing to signal, and generally acting like we own the road (I am not one of these, but that is beside the point). And I completely understand if, at this point, you start hyperventilating at the mere sight of a bike with which you have to share the road. I empathize; I have a car, too. It sucks. I know. Nevertheless, we can't all live in Amsterdam, and the frustrations of sharing the road with me do not change the facts: You are in a car, and I am not. You are protected from collisions by airbags, fenders, and a steel cage; I'm not. You are piloting a one-ton pile of steel; I am piloting something that weighs as much as a dog. (Not even a big dog -- we're talking Welsh Corgi, here.) And if your frustrations at sharing the road get the better of you, and you want to get in a fight with me, sir, there is no doubt whatsoever that you will win. You'll win... and, in all likelihood, I'll be dead. This is what I wanted to say to you: You may not like cyclists, and that's fine. But you have a responsibility to the human race, and I don't cease to exist the second I step off my bike. I am someone's wife. I am someone's sister. I am someone's daughter. And if you have any of those things -- a spouse, a sibling, a child -- do me this favor. Picture them. Imagine yourself on your way to meet your wife for lunch; imagine yourself waiting for your daughter to come home from school. Now, imagine getting a phone call, hearing the voice on the other end telling you that that person -- the person you love -- is dead, because some asshole in an Audi thought her life was less important than waiting another five seconds to park his car. This has been a public service announcement from the U.S. Department of Please Don't Kill Other Human Beings. <ul> <li> Location: south williamsburg <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-29T19:01:33-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1295924472.html You're the Hasidic Jew who tried to kill me. I'm the girl on the bike. - w4m text A three point presentation on why Amanda would make the best GF ever. - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1240808644.html In the fine spirit of camaraderie, I want to introduce everyone to your dream girl: Amanda. She is bangin, basically in every way. I would totally rail her myself, but I’m also a girl and we’re not into that. Well, maybe, but there would have to be a dude involved. A very hot dude. But, I digress… So Amanda. She is gorgeous, tall, and brunette, in crazy amazing shape—runs every day. She is fun and funny and totally adorable, but for some reason she isn’t getting it on the regular. I have no idea why; she should be rolling five deep. Being the children of corporate America that we are, I thought the best way to appeal to our target demographic is through a 3-point presentation on why she would make the best girlfriend ever. In the interest of time and efficiency, there is a conclusion statement at the bottom of each point that summarizes the key themes of the post. If you are smart, funny and successful, between the ages of 24 and 32, I strongly encourage you to seriously consider the following: 1) Low Maintenance. You want to go out with your dudes? She is cool with that. You want to split the check? She is cool with that. You want to wear gross old sweat pants and not shower for days? She is probably not ok with that, but we all have standards. Personal hygiene is one of them. She loves drinking beer, singing karaoke, watching movies like the hangover, playing wii and tequila shots. Super chill doesn’t even begin to describe her temperament. She will bake you cookies all the time. Conclusion: As long as you shower, you can hang out with your friends and drink beer whenever you want. Also, she is not crazy. 2) Sexual Relations. She is down always. All the time. In the garden or in the dirt. You can do it in the pouring rain, runnin the train when it's hot or cold out How 'bout in the library on top of books? But you can’t be too loud. I thought there was no better way to get the point across then with some Luda. Conclusion: You will get to bone. A lot. 3) Smart & Hot & Funny: Whole Package There are few ladies who are so accomplished, and do it with such polish (including slant rhymes). Mandy is the type of girl that your friends would tell you is way too good for you, and then hit on her behind your back. But never fear, she will politely decline their bold offers because she only has eyes for you. <- Precious. She can quote dirty movies, talk like a sailor (when appropriate, of course) and wrestle a crocodile with one hand, all while looking fabulous. Intimidating as it may seem to be with someone who is basically perfect, she still has a few flaws to keep you interested, as in: she cannot speak French and she sometimes falls down. Other than that, I can think of nothing. Conclusion: She is bangin. If this sounds like the lady for you, please shoot me an email and I will put you through the vetting process. Xoxo. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-06-26T12:42:34-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1240808644.html A three point presentation on why Amanda would make the best GF ever. - w4m text Was that your limb? - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1238618406.html I was running to catch the 9 train, early in the morning tuesday. Apparently I wasn't the only one: I saw you down the subway stop ahead of me. You were sprinting, and collided with a support column. Your prosthetic arm flew off, and you kept running. You made the train, and I did not. All that was left was your lovely arm, glistening from the summer humidity. It smelled of pine and saddleneck oil. I have it now, in my living room. It's sitting in a hallway basket, with some umbrellas and a digeridoo. Contact me: I'd like to meet the rest of you. -Susan <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-06-25T02:18:39-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1238618406.html Was that your limb? - w4m text Trade gay porn for bookshelf assembly?? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1215409366.html Hi Handymen! I have 2 small bookcases that need to be assembled - this is not my strong point. but I do have a large collection of gay male porn to pick from. Trade?? 3 movies per bookshelf? 6 FREE PORNS for your time? bargain! Looking forward to hearing from you... mr. P <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Compensation: no pay </ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-06-10T18:25:49-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1215409366.html Trade gay porn for bookshelf assembly?? text $30/hour: Personal Introduction Assistant / "wingwoman" http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1179876392.html We have an opening for a part-time personal introduction assistant, aka a "wingwoman." You must be classy and dress well. Beyond that you must be able to do 4 things: 1) start conversations with beautiful women; 2) after that, remain totally silent, unless spoken directly to, but smile and look friendly while the man you are "winging" orchestrates the social situation; 3) socialize and block any man or woman attempting to interfere with the man you are winging and any woman he is chatting with; and 4) end any conversation you are having instantly at the direction of the man you are winging. These requirements are essential, not for everyone, and difficult to do well. Now, this is a job (that's why you get paid), but it's very fun, and you may even make new friends, or even meet someone special, if it doesn't interfere with your primary employment purpose. This job is not for you if you are uptight, frumpy, grumpy, shy, a man-hater, a debbie downer, a critic, a control freak, a pouter, a therapist, researching, writing an article, with the press, a prostitute, an escort, a relationship counselor, or a feminist with a bone to pick. Gack. You must be 18, usually 21 for the events we attend. All work is in public at cocktail parties, charity benefits, museum openings, and the like. You will be added to any list in advance, and any fees for the event will be paid. You are responsible for transportion. Subways are $2. Although many events have free food and drink, this isn't dating, so don't ask to be bought anything. If you do ask, by mistake, don't be grumpy and bring the mood down when the answer is a polite no, or you will be paid for the time you have spent and politely sent packing. This job is definitely for you if you are easygoing, classy, dress extremely well, and enjoy many, varied, and sometimes challenging social situations. Our roster of full-time wingwomen is full, but we do have a part-time opening. Yes we are serious. Yes we are real. You might even have the time of your life. Fan mail, hate mail, and non-responsive replies will not receive answers, so save us both the time and don't bother. Please respond with a photo and contact information to the craigslist email in this ad. Thank you for your time. <ul> <li> Compensation: $30/hour <li> This is a part-time job. <li> This is a contract job. <li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li>Please, no phone calls about this job! <li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-05-20T06:42:14-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1179876392.html $30/hour: Personal Introduction Assistant / "wingwoman" text I took your purse and felt a connection - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1170080841.html Tuesday night around 11:30. On 53rd btw 1st and 2nd. You came out of the subway and I followed you. You looked over your shoulder, saw me and started walking faster. I ran up, grabbed your arm, took your purse and ran away. I heard you yelling for help but let's be honest, this is New York. The only way people would come running is if you yelled "Free Weed!" I've done many a snatch-and-grab but no one has ever stuck in my mind like you. There was a quick moment when our eyes met that I felt something strong. I think you felt it too. If I wasn't so shy (or so committing a crime) I would have asked your name. I, of course, later got your name from your drivers license. So Jennifer if you'd like to get together for a drink sometime get back to me. Oh, and I can give you back your purse. Your credit cards are still there but I spent the cash (sorry). And my room mate took your tampons. I don't know what he does with them but he always takes the tampons. If it works out between us I'll totally buy you some new ones ;-) <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-05-14T03:06:18-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1170080841.html I took your purse and felt a connection - m4w text Free Box of Magnum Condoms http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1168173164.html I swear to whatever it is that i believe in, if i get any emails offering the use of this offered item with me..... i'll fill all 33 condoms up with yellow paint, and pelt every guy who looks like he might be the kind of douche bag who'd send such an email. That said, it would be great if you were a chic or had a chic pick them up. I'm a girl. The box is a 36 pack with 3 missing and the rest are totally fine and untampered with, i just don't want a box of condoms too big for most guys sitting around reminding me of yet another failed relationship and my renewed sense of not getting laid. Not that I'd like to be, so don't offer. thanks <ul> <li> Location: Clinton Hill <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-05-12T22:52:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1168173164.html Free Box of Magnum Condoms text Free - International Ketchup Packet Collection http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1167074545.html This is a collection of ketchup packets from around the world. approximately 25 countries are represented here, including japan, finland, estonia, greenland, brazil, and portugal. none of the packets have been opened and they are labeled with their home country. Collection comes in decorative box with ducks on it. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-05-12T12:16:06-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1167074545.html Free - International Ketchup Packet Collection text Grooming Circle - w4mm http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1165835703.html I am a woman seeking a group of 4-6 men to brush my hair in what i like to refer to as my "grooming circle." I have not cut my hair since age 14. I am 5'8" and my nut-brown locks fall well past the small of my back, terminating just below the buttocks. I am 32 years old but often get i.d.'d when i buy wine spritzer by the case. I work in elder-care, and several of my male charges have described me as both "comely" and a "handsome woman." I used to permit these fellows to brush my hair until i was reprimanded by my superiors. This is how the "grooming circle" works. I will distribute to each man a numbered brush from my array of fine boar's head bristle brushes (2 have ivory handles, 4 have tortoise shell). Each man will gather around me and take hold of a lock of hair approx 1/4 inch in diameter. Each man will then spread out from me in what i refer to as the "maypole formation." I will let out a long sigh as a signal to commence brushing in tandem. I may need to periodically give notes, and will refer to each man by brush number. No Tugging. Please do not suggest music. We will be listening to the Gypsy Kings. We will all be clothed. This is not overtly sexual in nature. You may take off your shoes but not your socks. All I require is that you be of sound mind, have clean finger nails, no callouses, and a steady hand. A steady hand is essential to proper brushing rythmn. For those first-timers who have never participated in a "grooming circle" before and are feeling nervous, I will offer you a ladyfinger soaked in peach schnopps to calm you. I also have wine spritzer if that is more to your taste. Again, there is nothing so offputting as an unsteady hand. I will provide refreshments afterwords: ginger snaps, necco wafers, and fresca. Do not bring in any outside brushes. Please email me your responses and a photo of your hands. --Lily PS I have no grey hairs (at least not on my head). <ul> <li> Location: Upper East Side <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-05-11T17:20:59-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1165835703.html Grooming Circle - w4mm text help capture rogue http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1128520475.html hello this is hamdy bey. i have gone to coney island to dispose of ashes of dead old wizard but when i returned home his robe was again filled with a different laughing wizard. new wizard does several things. 1) unplugs cell phone during charge and runs video recorder feature idly for hours 2) places my house keys under a pile of conedison bills 3) shouts at mailman 4) stacks cats 5) obscures my shadow with giant novelty lollipop when i emerge to greet my brothers 6) replaced all scrabble letters with F 7) tenses my sensibilities during islam forum 8) writes untoward letters to president of turkish republic of northern cyprus in my name 9) deposits juice box wrappers on my hall so the rustling angers cats and their stack topples 10) howls at moon when it is not in the fullest of states i would much rather have previous wizard return !!! please help either to capture current wizard or ressurect former. current wizard is subletting disgusting basement apartment. ALL OF ABOVE NOTES SPECIFICALLY FORBIDDEN BY LEASE AGREEMENT. <ul> <li> Location: RIDGE WOOD <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Compensation: cat stack </ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-18T13:43:35-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1128520475.html help capture rogue text Singing Jewish Kosher Tequila Girls for Media http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1114236562.html New Kosher Tequila wants Attractive Singing Jewish Shot Girls for Cinco DeMayo event. Knows Yiddish and Jewish Songs Media will be attending event good dancing and outgoing personality send photo phone number and bio, info to Mr. Schwartz <ul> <li> Compensation: 50 per hr <li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li>Please, no phone calls about this job! <li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-09T09:42:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1114236562.html Singing Jewish Kosher Tequila Girls for Media text Sit in a hot tub full of marinara sauce with me - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1111954942.html I have a huge hot tub, i'm going to fill it with homemade marinara sauce. Let's get naked and sit in it. I'll be wearing a Rolex and Ray-Bans. I'll put some Barbara Streisand or some Wu-Tang Clan on the stereo. Nothing too sexual, just nudity and marinara sauce. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-07T18:49:39-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1111954942.html Sit in a hot tub full of marinara sauce with me - m4w text Human Cat for Adpotion http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1111525012.html Friendly Human-Cat for adoption. I will crawl around your house and do cat-like things in exchange for only cat food, water, a litter box, and occasional treats. Cat-cats are more of a hassle than human-cats. If you are looking to adopt a cat-cat and have been researching the matter you already know what I mean. There is less research to be done on human-cats, so let a friendly little fellow into your house today and be one of the first to spearhead a fledgeling community. I will not speak or do anything human-like, only cat-like. I look out windows, become enthralled with small objects, run across the house in the middle of the night and make a terrifying sound in the corner, nuzzle you with my head, etc. You must take care of me as you would a cat-cat. Email me for details. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-07T14:35:42-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1111525012.html Human Cat for Adpotion text I wanted to talk to you, but I had to take a shit - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1052207056.html Have you ever been just minding your own business, when all of a sudden, you realize that you have to take a shit really bad? Well that's what happened to me this morning. It was around 8 AM today (Thursday) when I was sitting on Metro North and got that horrible feeling. I wasn't even sure I'd make it to Grand Central. Unfortunately, taking a shit on the train was out of the question. Have you ever seen a Metro North bathroom? My only choice was to sit there an pretend nothing was a matter. After what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived at Grand Central. I made my way to the front of the train so I wouldn't have to deal with all the people on the platform when I got off. It was at this time that I realized that taking a shit in Grand Central was also out of the question. I think there is probably about a 75% chance that you'll get hepatitis if you try to take a shit in Grand Central. My only choice was to try to make it to my luxury Chelsea office where we actually have sanitary bathrooms. Now it's probably about 8:10. As I'm running down the stairs into the subway, I notice the downtown 4-5-6 platform is exceptionally crowded. The conductor of the 5 train announces that the 5 train is out of service, and all passengers must leave the train. It must be Murphy's Law in action. I walked across the platform to get on the downtown 6 train when I saw you standing next to me. You were probably about average height for a girl, brown hair, black or dark blue jacket, green skirt, brown boots, and a great smile. ON ANY OTHER DAY, I would have swept you off your feet. If you were to ask any of my girlfriends in the last few years, they would probably tell you that I just came up to them on the street, in a book store, in the subway, etc, and said, "Hi," before proceding to charm the a smile out of them. But today was not my day. There was no way I could have confidently talked to you while at the same time pretending nothing was wrong with my bowels. Anyway, we both got on a very crowded 6 train. I was holding on to the pole for dear life, and you were holding on to the same pole standing across from me. I'm 5'11", brown hair, athletic build, and I was wearing jeans, a blueish t-shirt, and a black jacket. I think you got off at 28th St, but I was in no state of mind to keep track. It could have been 33rd or 23rd. When I finally reached my office, I ran up 4 flights of stairs (because I couldn't wait for the elevator) and made a beeline to the bathroom, unzipping my pants as I opened the door. I swear, if I had been delayed by even a second because I tried to get your number in the subway, I would have had to call someone to bring my some new clothes. I barely had my pants down when it forced itself out. I ended up using entire industrial sized roll of toilet paper. You have no idea how raw my ass felt after using that much 1-ply sandpaper-toilet paper. I think the toilet itself is in therapy now. ***Summary*** You: Took downtown 6 from Grand Central Brown hair Black (or other dark color) jacket Green skirt Brown boots Me: 5'11" Athletic build Dark blue jeans Blueish t-shirt Black jacket Normally extremely confident Fears public bathrooms <ul> <li> Location: Downtown 6 from Grand Central <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-02-26T21:06:03-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1052207056.html I wanted to talk to you, but I had to take a shit - m4w text Antique furniture from former CEO's office- $1.22 M http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1004463995.html It has come to our attention that there is a great deal of value in the furniture that is no longer needed from the office of a former CEO. We have decided to put it up for sale. There are quite a few items and we would be willing to sell as a set or separately. Price is not negotiable. The buyer must be willing to come in the middle of the night for haul away as we do not want any additional people to see it than necessary. If needed a driver can be provided for an extra charge. The buyer must also sign a non-disclosure agreement saying they will not sell pictures to the press or speak to anyone about where the furniture was acquired or how much was paid. The items are as follows: Antique area rug, has some spots that are worn down from pacing but easily covered with other furniture $87 K Sofa, has been slept in a few times but is very comfortable $15 K Velvet curtains, very similar to the curtains from Gone With the Wind $28 K George IV Desk, rarely used $18 K Chandelier, still sparkles despite the current economic environment $37 K Mirror with silver frame, has a few kiss marks we are trying to get off $5 K Mahogany pedestal table, might have been stood upon but still in great shape $25 K Off-white parchment waste can, perfect for shredded documents $1,400 There are other items as well. Please contact for more information. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-01-23T12:25:05-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/1004463995.html Antique furniture from former CEO's office- $1.22 M text EAST VILLAGE- Controlled and large 3 bed http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/976182933.html -Wow…I can’t believe I am doing this..But I am looking for someone to rent my rent controlled apartment. The monthly rent is extremely cheap and would be a dream for many people in this city. It is in the east village close to A and 3rd. I caught my wife in bed with our neighbor who is almost 20 years younger than her. She is refusing to move out and still seeing him when I am at work, on my bed…I need someone to move in and help me get her out. Man or woman. My plan is to act like we are a couple until she can’t take it anymore. I have done everything possible to try and get her out..But she is a scumbag….So we need to create some type of plan that would get her out..i would charge you very cheap and all you would have to do is act like we are dating. We might have to kiss if front her and make fake sounds when we are in the bedroom. Please respond with a detailed description of your plan to get her out and a little about your self. You could live there after she is out and unless we fall in love we don’t have to do anything else. a at 3   <a target="_new" href="http://maps.google.com/?q=loc%3A+a+at+3+nY+ny+US">google map</a>   <a target="_new" href="http://maps.yahoo.com/maps_result?addr=a+at+3&csz=nY+ny&country=US">yahoo map</a><ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-01-01T04:39:28-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/976182933.html EAST VILLAGE- Controlled and large 3 bed text Entry Level Associate http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/968920747.html Hi All - I thought that with the holidays approaching it was worth spending an additional posting fee to allay the collective anxiety out there. The position that we posted on December 10, 2008 is still available. For details of that position, please see the original posting. If you sent a resume, it is unnecessary to send another. We've been a bit overwhelmed by the response, and the holidays sought of crept up on us, so we'll begin interviewing in the new year. I will say that overall I've been impressed with the creative cover letters and the excellent resumes. In any event, we haven't contacted anyone yet, so don't be alarmed by our silence. Enjoy the holidays. Relax with family and friends, remember what is important. Next year will be better. Now I do need to say, if we do not call you in, please understand that it is not a reflection on you, we're a small firm and we only have one opening. I've received resumes from at least thirty five attorneys (and a few soon to be attorneys) that I would interview and hire in a heart beat, if I only had the time and the openings. Stay upbeat. I do have a few additional things to add, so bear with me. To the one anti - semite who thought somehow, that religion had anything to do with the salary we were offering - F*ck off - It is my Christmas wish that you remain unemployed forever, and that the closest you come to a legal job is selling Blumberg forms in a Staples. There is no place in this profession for people like you. I will add, that if you have a thing against Jewish Attorneys, perhaps you should consider practicing somewhere other than New York. To the one law student - Peter - who thought it necessary to defend law students everywhere. Yes, I understand that law students leave school with loans. I think I understand that better than you. I just finished paying mine off this year. With that said, eleven thousand new New York Lawyers were minted last year. Another 11,000 are on their way. Except for the those that secure plum openings at the big firms, I fear paying those student loans for many is going to be a problem. Absent an excellent foundation in the practice of law, many will never be able to do so. Doctors (who for the most part have bigger loans) undergo intense internships at low pay, where they translate what they learned in medical school into an ability to practice medicine. Lawyers have for the most part have never had to serve an internship, but in reality, the first two to three years are an internship. The salary we are offering reflects accurately what we can pay, after factoring in the rates we can charge for a junior attorney, the value that an untrained attorney brings to our practice, the amount of time my partners and I will lose training and reworking their work, the amount of time we write off , and secretarial costs, office costs, malpractice insurance costs, coffee and Friday Pizza. After a year or two, the attorney we hire, will be know how to practice law (and will have eaten a lot of free pizza). What I didn't mention is that two of my partners, started with me as associates - Both had big firm experience - but were willing to start over with a low base salary in order to learn how to practice law. They became invaluable to me and the firm's clients and they make a lot more money now. There is hope. While your email was pleasant, it reflected a real naivete about the industry in general, and I think you need to take a hard look at the practice of law in the 21st century. Contrary to your projections I did not receive resumes from a handful of students at the bottom of the classes from fourth tier law schools. I received resumes from Fordham Grads, Georgetown Grads, Berkeley Grad, Boston U and Boston College, Lots from St Johns, Brooklyn and New York. There were resumes from people let go at Big firms, and others from attorneys who've been out a few years whose practices have yet to take off. I received great resumes from people looking to get back into the profession. Your forecast was completely wrong. OK, I'm finished ranting. If there is any one out there who would still like to be considered, send a resume. If you sent one, I have it, so don't send another. We will be interviewing in early January. Happy Holidays. Hang in. Times will get better. <ul> <li> Location: Central Nassau <li> Compensation: 36 - 42k <li>Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li>Please, no phone calls about this job! <li>Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-24T13:11:53-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/968920747.html Entry Level Associate text To The Girl of Shel Dental Ads - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/964041697.html To The Girl in the Shel Dental of Norwalk Advertisement, I love you. I first laid my eyes upon you in the Dec-Jan issue of "Clipper Magazine". As I was thumbing through I stumbled across page 26 where your eyes met mine, I looked away quickly but I know you saw me stare...I saw you, too. I tried to be casual, flipping through the rest of the magazine with my thumb still marking down page 26, but couldn't stop thinking about you, my precious Shel Dental Advertisement Girl. After reaching page 10 or so I turned back to sneak a quick peak but alas, you caught me! I again looked away in embarrassment, closing the magazine and quickly putting it to the side. I am now here, trying to get my work done yet I can't help but spend every single second of my time thinking about you, oh beautiful Shel Dental Advertisement Girl. So here I am - thinknig about you, lines of poetry flowwing through my head and urges of lust permiating from my genitals. I want you, I love you - you are my everything and my only thing. Oh my soft, passionate, sensual Shel Dental Advertisement Girl - how I love thee. Please Shel Dental Advertisement Girl, please...if you read this get in contact with me. I have the desires of a thousand men burning deep inside of me and you are the sole fuel for the fire. I know the feeling is mutual, Shel Dental Advertisement Girl - I see it in your eyes. I love you and I want to be with you...forever. Love, Nick <ul> <li> Location: Greenwich <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-19T13:44:51-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/964041697.html To The Girl of Shel Dental Ads - m4w text Please stop walking around naked - 25th Street - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/945582829.html Let me just say that I'm sorry for looking across the street into your window. But if you are young, blond and beautiful, and walk around nude in your apartment with the lights on and the blinds up, I cannot help it. You are far, far too attractive for me not to notice you. You see, the human eye is attracted to movement, and the straight male eye is attracted to girls who are smoking hot. And when you practice booty dancing in your underwear in front of the mirror, then I'm screwed. Tonight, you weren't alone. You AND your Asian friend in your underwear. Ridiculous. Anyway, I felt slightly ashamed after you lowered the blinds because you saw me watching you. But I should really be thankful, because if you're home, I'm totally unproductive. I can't work out. I can't make dinner. I can't get any work done when I come home at night, which is a problem because I have the kind of job that doesn't stop at happy hour, or on weekends. It's the only way I can afford to live in this apartment with these occasionally incredible views. Which brings me to why I'm writing this ad. You see, I already have a girlfriend, and I'm not looking for any extracurricular activities. However, I don't understand how you can afford to live in your building, because you have way more fun than I do. That leads me to the conclusion that you must have retired after making shitloads of money before the market decided to ruin everyone's life. Therefore, I would like to ask you for financial advice over a cup of hot chocolate, or, if you're not comfortable meeting in person (I can't imagine why), maybe you could e-mail me with some professional tips. If you would be so kind, perhaps my girlfriend and I could repay you by leaving the blinds up . . . PS: Looks aren't everything, but you are much more attractive than your friend. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-04T22:37:47-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/945582829.html Please stop walking around naked - 25th Street - m4w text I have a huge bathroom. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/907788944.html I am a female in my mid 60's and I am looking for a room mate. Times are tight and I need some extra money. I am willing to rent out my bathroom in my 1 bedroom east village home. My bathroom is large. You can easily put a twin air mattress in there. I only ask that when I need to use the bathroom, you or your air mattress are not in it. I do ask that when you are in the apartment, you confine yourself to the bathroom. I do not feel comfortable with a stranger walking around my living room. This might change as I get to know you better. You may have guest over as long as they are cnfined to the bathroom as well. This might seem a bit odd but please remember the rent is $400 and the bathroom is large. 1 at A   <a target="_new" href="http://maps.google.com/?q=loc%3A+1+at+A+new+york+NY+US">google map</a>   <a target="_new" href="http://maps.yahoo.com/maps_result?addr=1+at+A&csz=new+york+NY&country=US">yahoo map</a><ul> <li>cats are OK - purrr <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-11-06T04:01:32-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/907788944.html I have a huge bathroom. text Blowjobs for Obama - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/903864836.html I realize this is a safe blue state, but in a last ditch effort to spread the good word of Obama and offer up my totally awesome blowjob to anyone (especially Republicans) who vote for Barack Obama for president tomorrow! My blow job is so good, I could probably get McCain to vote for Obama, assuming it didn't stop his heart dead cold. Palin too, for that matter because I rock at that as well. And while I can only have a local reach in this effort, it'd be awesome to see if this could spread around the country and have there be lots of blowjobs for Obama. Yes we can! ETA: Wow, this is really popular so far. I'm sorry I won't be able to get to all the Republicans and undecided voters (I only have so much free time), but keep on with the Democratic spirit guys! ETA: Thanks everyone for the replies! Count 3 of NY's votes for Obama as my doing. :) As for everyone else who I couldn't respond to/blow (there were over 100 responses!) I hope you'll consider some of Obama's good points as you head into the booths tomorrow. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-11-03T10:12:08-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/903864836.html Blowjobs for Obama - w4m text To the girl who stole my bike as a gesture of flirtation - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/865564186.html I love how well you get me--you know that the way to my heart is through my bike, and I can only assume that you cut the chain binding my '86 Benotto to that stop sign in East Williamsburg late Thursday night in the hopes of starting a conversation with me. It was a really gutsy plan. "Oh hey," you’d say as I walked up. "I was just stealing your bike." "What the fuck?" I'd say. "I feel terrible," you'd say. And then you'd say something cute to move things along, like "Can I make it up to you with coffee?" I totally understand where you were coming from--we all have a hard time starting a conversation with the person we have a crush on. Your plan was actually really good and clever and I am just so so bummed that we missed each other. I can imagine how awful you felt--it's midnight in East Williamsburg and you're standing there holding 3-foot-long garden clippers and feeling very, very conspicuous. There’s a busted chain pooled at your feet and a beautiful old white Italian racing bike with blue highlights and red handlebar tape leaning up against a stop sign, and I'm nowhere in sight. You're starting to wonder whether I'm ever going to show up. Maybe I've gone to Arizona for the weekend or something. Then you realize, with a sense of dread that grows and grows the longer you wait, that you can't just leave the bike there and abandon the whole plan--the chain is well and truly cut, so the bike isn't secure anymore and it would be all too easy for some complete and total fucking asshole to walk away with it and make maybe $150 selling my most beloved possession and possibly greatest and most trusted friend so far in New York. If this were to happen, if this hypothetical asshole were to walk away with my bike, which I just spent my first month here searching for and then carefully patching up and tuning, then where would all my love for this bike go? It would simply vanish. The bike would be reduced to an object of monetary value and I would be reduced to a guy who has to find a new bike. There would be measurably less love in the world, and the hypothetical asshole who had stolen my bike would therefore be a destroyer of love. A Love Destroyer. You, of course, could not allow this to happen. The destruction of love is antithetical to your core mission in life, which is to create love, more love, for me. So you decided to take the bike for safe-keeping. THANK YOU. I cannot express how grateful I am and how eager to finally to have our long-awaited conversation, which might honestly be a little awkward now but will be well worth it. I've been pretty lonely in my first month in New York and kind of missing my ex-girlfriend and frankly I'm just really flattered that you've taken an interest in me. I can't wait to meet you. And to get my bike back. <ul> <li> Location: East Williamsburg <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-10-03T20:04:13-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/865564186.html To the girl who stole my bike as a gesture of flirtation - m4w text Tips For Clueless People Who Get Mugged http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/845973660.html So you've just moved into a new "gentrifying" neighboorhood that's full of urban culture, cheap(er) rents, and wonderful friendly people. An odd lack of organic food stores and greenmarkets, but you can't have everything. So one day you're doing something FUCKING RETARDED like walking back from the store alone at 1 am or walking home from the subway while texting your sorority sisters back in the fucking midwest or something while SIMULTANEOUSLY listening to an ipod with the bright white headphones and you get fucking mugged. Congrats, YOU'RE A FUCKING DUMBASS. No, it's not 1990, when men where men, crackheads would fucking cut you and the robbery rate was about a billion times higher than it is now, but it's still new york and you were still fucking dumb enough to think that paying $1200 for a studio in a shitty neighboorhood is somehow hipper than moving to fucking Queens. Anyway, here's some helpful tips for the next time someone jacks your shit. 1) Pay attention. Granted, you weren't paying attention to start with or you wouldn't have gotten mugged, but now that you've been hit from behind / had a gun shoved in your face, pay attention. 2) Follow directions. Give the friendly mugger what he wants. Don't talk back or fight. In all likelyhood, you're a pussy hipster retard, and are, by NYC law, unarmed. 3) You've been paying attention right? Remember some simple things in this order: sex, clothing color, clothing type, headwear, and direction of flight. 4) Congratulations! You've just been robbed and you're still alive. What now? Well, don't go back to your apartment and call the cops thirty minutes later. Don't call your mom in Kansas and tell her first. CALL THE COPS AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. You'd be amazed at how many people fuck up this simple step. Pay phones still exist as do 24/7 bogies. Go there, call the cops. 5) It may take a while for the cops to show up. The 911 system, at best, will result in a five minute wait before we're even notified. Then we have to drive there without killing anyone. Be patient. For that matter, tell the 911 operator exactly where you are. Nothing makes a responding cop happier than having to scour the area for your dumb ass while the perp gets away. 6) Resist the temptation to curse/complain/bitch about the cops while you're waiting for us to show up. We're probably busy. Even if we're not, don't expect us to come tear-assing across the precinct lights and sirens to get to you 2 minutes sooner. I have no intention of broadsiding a livery cab and getting fired just because you got your sidekick took. 7) When we do arrive: get in the car, tell us what they looked like and where they went. Something simple. "AGE/RACE/RED HOODIE/BLUE JEANS/NORTH ON BROADWAY" Really all we need. 8) We are now going to "canvass". Get in the fucking car. We aren't going to get you shot you fucking pussy. Also, comments like "I can't believe this happened to me" or "I'm in shock" or "OH GOD WHY"- shove it. Save it for the bar later. If you haven't actually gotten shot, shived or stomped grow a fucking pair and close your mouth. 9) We are now going to drive around and try to arrest someone. Quick con-law refresher for the lib hippy types: if you're in my car, and have given me a description, THAT MEANS WE ARE STOPPING PEOPLE WHO FIT THAT DESCRIPTION. If you told me they are violent or armed, it's probably going to be a felony stop. So when you tell me it's a 15 year old black kid in a red hoodie with a silver pistol, don't be surprised when the car slams to a halt and we jump out and stop a 15 year old black kid in a red hoodie. I am not violating his rights, I am not hassling him because he's a minority. I'm stopping him because YOU GAVE US HIS FUCKING DESCRIPTION. If the kid is not the one who robbed you, he'll be on his way in five minutes. On the other hand, if he is the one who robbed you, he may decide to run/fight/pull out a gun - you don't stop suspected armed robbers by asking pretty please. If this offends you, get the fuck out of my car and go find the guy who mugged you yourself. 10) We failed to find your robber. No surprise: they've probably done this before and had an escape route all planned out. They were probably back in their apartment / subway / taxi before you even called 911. Don't bitch. It happens. This isn't Law And Order. 11) Yes, you are coming back to the precinct to make a fucking report. I'm sure the CO, Kelly and Bloomberg would be fucking thrilled if you didn't make a report as this helps the compstat stats (you watch the Wire, right?) but if I did all this fucking work, you're taking 30 minutes out of your day to make a god-damn report. Also, after you've finished venting about how we're all corrupt, racist, incompetent morons who probably got bullied in High School, you'll remember that you need a police report for your credit card companies, and you'll show up the next morning with a sheepish expression and ask to make a report. Let's do this now while the memory is still fresh. 11a) "You'll never catch the guy", "I don't remember much" and variations thereof are just insulting. Our detectives have been doing this job for years, and despite what TV/Movies taught you, only a small fraction are burned out alcoholics. They probably are going to catch this guy... eventually. 12) No racial language please. The odds are good you just got robbed by a black or hispanic male, and your buried-deep racism may be bubbling to the surface (especially if you're an out of town transplant / college student). The majority of the co-workers on my shift and in the DT squad are minority. It's embarrassing when you use racial slurs in front of them. Amazingly, most cops aren't racist, although we do have a universal contempt for crackheads, gang members, and dumbass white people. In conclusion: Don't be stupid, pay attention, call the cops, and don't be a dick. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-09-18T15:48:12-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/845973660.html Tips For Clueless People Who Get Mugged text You reap what you sow: the greed of an archetypal Lehman douche http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/843443153.html Most of you deserve this, you really, truly do. You chose this road because it was easy and because you’re stupid. This was and is the best you’ll ever do. You know who I’m talking about. I’m pointing the finger at you, you and you. And especially you. To all the overtanned Jersey douchebags with steroid addictions, to the smug Ivy League grads with dads in high places, to the good looking brain dead women that eschew Anne Taylor Loft for sales rack Brooks Brothers, and to the upwardly mobile black girls with fake hair and inappropriate-for-work Joyce Leslie outfits. Actually, scratch that. The black girls can stay. Fuck all of you. You brought this upon yourselves. Your Alpha male bullshit begat this greed, your vile existence is truly at the core of this collapse. For all the times you and your drunk cronies threw up on the street outside Pacha, for all the times you made a scene on the 3:51 LIRR train to Babylon, for all the times you stood on the Path train, or the 6, iPod in hand, desperately trying not to touch anyone. You had it coming. Is there some kind of code that says you MUST wear a blue shirt? Or is that some kind of unspoken bro ethos? Like, if you’re the dude in the white button down in Bryant Park, is no one gonna blow you? Or is conforming just that much easier, is conformity just a part of your DNA? Is that really the true reason why you’re so universally loathsome to anyone that’s not a part of that vile world? Before the Bubble O’ Bullshit burst, you would laugh at me. You were the douche bags that felt superior, the ones who turned up their nose at their working-class roots, the ones who scoffed at their peers who worked at the Local Union. You were the ones who laughed at those that worked at non-profits and LIKED IT. “Art History? What are you going to do with a major in Art History?” Yeah, your finance major got you real fucking far. Maybe after this ship sails you’ll realize that aside from your rape trial, college didn’t teach you much of anything. Sorry bro, but in the real world, you can’t walk down the street, lacrosse stick in hand, and just get respect. I hope that with this smashup comes your own social foreclosure. I hope all those dudes from my high school -- you know who I'm talking about -- the ones that never got good grades, the ones that never knew how to act like decent human beings, the date rapists, the juicers, the guidos, the Quinnipiac or Iona grads that never should have graduated yet somehow landed cushy Wall Street jobs -- receive the guerdon from the gods . I hope you’re evicted from your Upper East Side apartment, I hope your Denali gets repoed, I hope you can’t afford your bullshit Murray Hill lifestyle. I hope you truly get your comeuppance. Because it’s well fucking deserved and the Universe knows it. And what about me, you ask? I’m laughing all the way to the nonexistent bank. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-09-16T17:57:10-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/843443153.html You reap what you sow: the greed of an archetypal Lehman douche text SWF who isn't asking too much http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/835057632.html I am a single, free-spirted, web-savvy thirtysomething female. Living in the gorgeous Caroll Gardens for the past year, I love life and am only looking for a man who is not an idiotic pig-headed beer-swilling moron (which seems to be hard to find in this city). This is my final plea to the Craigslist community. I own my own internet business which means I don't get to leave the house much, but I do know the internet and its dating potential. So far it has let me down every single time. I've done MySpace, Facebook, Match.Com, eHarmony, and even Jdate (I'm not Jewish and don't care about Israel). Don't get me started on Jdate. But with so many people out there, at least ONE guy can match this. I know he's out there. My standards are exacting, but they're not too much to ask. Life is too short to compromise yourself! Here is what I am looking for. It's not much. If you're this guy or know this guy, have him contact me right away. -non smoker -must love cats and be open to the idea of future adoptions -must not be more than one to five stops away from Carroll Gardens F train in either direction -must not be opposed to wicker furniture -must be 420 friendly -must clean up hair from the tub after a trim, a ring of hair around the edge is GROSS -past bar tending/table-serving experience a plus but not necessary -some knowledge of vintage wine -must be fluent in 2 languages (English DOES NOT count); I still like to practice my French from study abroad -toilet paper must go over, NEVER under, when placed in dispenser -PUT the lid DOWN. Animals have better manners than most men -no stockbrokers, unemployed musicians, actors, or baristas -no ravers, goths, punks, or rude boys -musical taste must include, but not be limited to, Kingston Trip, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Judy Collins -name must not begin with an R, a J, or a B (Js are negotiable; Rs are not. Bs should consider that if they treat a cat nicely, it will respond accordingly; but if you scare it by approaching too fast, of course it will attack) -must like scented candles (not vanilla); no incense -must be willing to pay for dinner at least once a week at a Zagat-rated restaurant after proper research and scouting of restaurant -must own more than 3 items from ?The North Face? jacket line but no more than 5 -owning a car is a plus, but it can't be a hatchback (some standards) -I ski one weekend a year, so you ski. No shredders. -must love Gary Larson, and hate Dilbert -passionate about animal rights, but willing to take in the circus when it comes to town -must read at least 3 books a month, no comics unless Gary Larson -must have read complete works of Jane Austen -must know how to turn a Word document into a PDF -must be on T-Mobile for Fave 5 access -must love pinball and not play ping pong -3 out of your 5 favorite movies should be John Hughes films -must agree to watch "The Hills" on MTV on Sundays but hate that bitch Heidi, she is everything wrong with womankind -must know CPR and have current certification, ++ for SCUBA certification -must be home from 2-6pm on Saturdays to receive packages; bonus points if you're an Ebay power seller too! -NO FELONS!!! -must have all limbs, no quads (not biased, just poor past experience) -Ivy League education desirable, but Amherst, UPenn, Colgate, Vassar, Georgetown etc. acceptable -must have Scrabulous installed on Facebook during work hours -must prefer dark chocolate over milk; no omnivores -must like North-Eastern microbrews, NO COLORADO, NO EXCEPTIONS -no corduroy pants, jackets, shirts, socks, caps, etc. And while we're on the subject of hats, no hats at all. Having a hat as part of your job costume is not an excuse. I know the guy for me is out there. I've come so close to finding him in perfect form so many times. If you are this know or know this guy, PLEASE contact me. I am willing to make a few sacrifices, but not many. If you see yourself in even a FEW of my specifications, you are invited to apply. Think of it more like a guidebook to my heart. Please reply with a little bit about yourself, include pics. ~M <ul> <li> Location: Caroll Gardens <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-09-10T09:46:48-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/835057632.html SWF who isn't asking too much text Live in Nanny Needed for 4 kids (Pls don't call them "Precious Ones") http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/804253499.html My kids are a pain in the ass. Just in the past hour, i have had to tell each one to do something more than once. oldest: can i have soda? it's just a sprite? please? can i? no, no and no. the next one...don't even get me started. seriously. the twin six year olds: one wanted dessert before her dinner was over, one kept wanting to know why I wouldn't let nine year olds swing her around by her limbs. (the fear of a dislocated shoulder did nothing.) Please help me. I can be a tad difficult to work for. I'm loud, pushy and while I used to think we paid well, i am no longer sure. i work from home, so you get the pleasure of being hounded by me all day long. and, you get to pretend to like me, because i am deeply sensative. (but well dressed and a know it all, a winning combination I assure you.) If you cannot multi task, or communicate without being passive aggressive, don't even bother replying. If you are the type who doesn't notice crumbs on the table, skip to the next post, because crumbs are a deal breaker. they put me over the edge. i have all sorts of theories on how to stack my dishwasher, and if you are judgemental about ritalin for adhd, or think such things are caused by too much sugar, again, deal break city. You do get a separate entrance excellent studio on the ues. you do get air conditioner and internet connection and cable. even hbo. and showtime. you can bring your spouse, roommate or partner, but sorry no kids. If you ask, can i bring my kid, the answer will be...anyone? anyone? No. If you can cook, all the better. otherwise, i'll teach you all sorts of things about pasta. (Here's a freebie, butter and parmesean, mmmmmm) If you know anything about chess and violin i will be impressed. We are not snobs, which is good. but then again, my kid sometimes swears to make a point. (We're working on it, but halfheartedly, because, well the apple doesn't fall far from the fucking tree.)Although I am told they are all very bright, they have not mastered the use of the oh so complicated napkin. This is a napkin Junior, say it after me...Nap Kin. Good boy. i am not looking for Super nanny, or anyone who wants this job because they will love my kids as if they are their own. you won't. really. they are infinitely lovable, but trust me, they're mine and you will move on when your journey with us is over, and save for some funny stories and a delightful email every now and again, you won't grieve. Nor will we. (okay, we did all grieve a few of our past sitters, oddly they were all named Sarah or Kate, or Nikki. And Leah. Leah was delightful, even if she did drop my twin babies off our couch during a family gathering. Good times. I don't want someone who has a lot of theories on the right way to raise kids, because in the end, I'm just a woman doing my best. I'm willing to learn from you, or anyone, but not so much about how i should parent my spawn. teach me to knit. introduce me to yoga, the white stripes, russian literature or the best place to get a burger in the village at 2Am, but do not tell me to put star stickers on a good boy chart. stickers irritate me. If you are fundamentally unhappy with your life, you will be more unhappy if you take this job, so do us all a favor and get some treatment or move to the Rockies, but do not apply for employment with us. Also, if you suspect all wealthy women are frivilous, we are not for you. I do not want to hide my occasional bergdorf shopping bag. If you smoke, please quit. don't apply either, but please quit. i have known too many people diagnosed with cancer this year. Even if you are a judgemental nanny 911 wannabe, no one should have to endure some of the things I have wittnessed. You gotta be able to drive with a valid license, but if you've ever hit a human,move to the next post. You won't have to drive in the city, but if we go to our weekend place together, or if you make it to the summer and still work for us, we need you to run into town to get some pink milk, so be able to drive a mini van. Can you swim? Swimming is good. If you do drugs or drink enough so that you are grumpy in the morning and grumpier at night prior to that next cocktail, call AA, and peruse craigslist childcare positions when you have a year sober. I'll probably be looking again, and now is the time for you to focus on yourself anyway. I need a team player. I need someone to back me up when it comes to remembering when the library books are due, and whether i have rsvped to that birthday party yet. Help me dear G-d keep track of our skim milk supply and also, also, also, what should I make for dinner tomorrow night? the hours are 7 in the morning to 8:30 in the morning. We'd be in it together, getting the kids out with clean faces, brushed teeth and some food in their bellies. Doesn't that sound easy? Doesn't that sound doable? Then come on back for a fun filled afternoon 2:15-8:15 of activities and playdates and snacks and dinners and homework and riveting conversations about global warming, hannah montana and guitar hero. When you do get to go home (to that swanky studio and possibly a significant other or buddy) your time off will be respected. If I would like you to give extra hours, i'll ask. if you say yes, you get paid 15/ hour. if you say no, I will not fire you or hate you. Except if it is a school holiday or if i have a sick kid, then i might ask, and unless you have a final exam worth 2/3 of your grade or tix The Lion King, you may need to help out. Okay, if you're still reading this ad, it means: a) i am a halfway decent writer and maybe i really will get that book deal i'm yearning for b) you need a job desparately c) you think this just might be destiny, and that you could be one of the few, the proud, the potential babysitter of our dreams. D) you want all the information about job requirements, so that you can write me emails about how I should stay home with my kids otherwise they are going to grow up to be sociopaths. (If my pen pal is out there, wassup? Found love yet? No? How 'bout that.) best of luck to all of you in your search for a job. Seriously. Job searching sucks. No two ways about it. RLS <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-08-19T21:03:57-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/804253499.html Live in Nanny Needed for 4 kids (Pls don't call them "Precious Ones") text You bit my leg while I was passed out and I never got to ask your name - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/755426362.html OK, so I was kind of asking for it. I got all tarted up for the wedding and was dancing with all the guys to Journey and Ton Loc and Timbaland. I'm-about-to-strip-and-i'm-well-equipped etc. God I love weddings. I probably had a few too many and when that overzealous strapping groomsman who just graduated college decided we were going to twirl only he lifted the wrong arm and clotheslined me in the face and I staggered backward and rolled my ankle. Wearing four inch strappy stilettos which made me about 6'2. And that much farther to fall. Were you watching me then? Yeah I was a trooper. Ankle was crying out in pain but all I cared about was my next vodka tonic and whether I had enough time to get it before Sex Bomb started playing. I can tell by your behavior last night you like Tom Jones and Mousse T just as much as I do. At some point later in the night here I am walking into the local taco joint wearing no shoes. Politely took them off and left them at the door. It was raining outside and thankfully the types of dresses I wear to weddings can endure some serious abuse. I hopped up on the counter, flashed my most engaging smile and demanded two beef softshell badboys and some ice for my swelling ankle. Was it there that I caught your eye, confident and defiant as I sucked the cheese out of my jalepeno poppers as the nice guys working there prepared an ice pack and listened to my story about how I had hurt my ankle coming to the aid of an elderly woman when some hooligan tried to steal her purse? I'll have you know he went down like a ton of bricks when I pistol whipped him, but while kicking him in the head for good measure I seem to have hurt my ankle. Tough world out there. No country for old men, or good samaritans in slinky black dresses and high heels. I'll bet you were impressed when they gave me my tacos for free. Maybe it was in the parking lot that you decided to come home with me. I couldn't really tell. When I woke up the next morning there was a trail of my clothes and shoes and other various personal belongings. Apparently I had tipped the bar staff handsomely, and for that they had rewarded me with a to-go cup. The bed showed signs of struggle. Reaching for my glass to see if it's empty and surprised at the searing pain radiating not from my ankle, nor my rump, nor my head, nor any orifice, but the back of my knee? Imagine my horror when I flung back the colors and saw the damage that you had inflicted in my unconscious state. You sank your fangs into that cute little dimple behind my knee (now there's a fetish I haven't heard of), leaving a deep round wound and enough venom to swell my leg up to twice its unbitten size. Between the numbness and the stiffness I had to stagger around my house like a deranged pirate with a pegleg trying to figure out whether you were still there or had fled stealthily into the night. But you were long gone. So please, at least tell me your name or what you look like, and possibly confirm your genus? I've heard that some of you are so nasty your conquests require medical attention or risk serious infection. At the very least I'm gonna need to give a description to the doctor tomorrow morning, and the story I've just told is not going to cut it. PS. Just so you know, you are not the first to leave me with bite marks in odd places in the morning. Just the first who was rude enough not to give me a chance to reciprocate. <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-14T23:38:36-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/755426362.html You bit my leg while I was passed out and I never got to ask your name - w4m text ALL UTIL. INCLUDED!!! THIS IS THE ONE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/750541218.html GORGEOUS 10 x 14 BEDROOM, DRENCHED WITH LOTS OF AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT, GENEROUS CLOSET SPACE, CLEAN BATHROOM, NICE COMMON SPACE AND STORAGE. W/D IN BASEMENT (COIN-OP ALTHOUGH LANDLORD IS IN PROCESS OF MAKING IT FREE!) AND ELEC/COOKING GAS/HI-SPEED INTERNET/TRASH PICK-UP INCLUDED IN RENT. STREET PARKING. CLOSE TO HOSPITALS AND SOME SHOPPING. LIVE WITH TWO QUIET ROOMMATES BOTH STUDENTS (ONE INTERNATIONAL) NO DRINKING/DRUGS, CALM LIVING ENVIRONMENT FOR RIGHT INDIVIDUAL WITH REGULAR HOURS. THERE IS ONE SMALL CATCH THAT HAS NOT BEEN A PROBLEM AT ALL WITH PREVIOUS TENANTS. BEDROOM MUST BE SHARED WITH APPROX. 700 LB. ADULT MALE SILVERBACK GORILLA. THIS IS AN EASTERN LOWLAND GORILLA WHO IS FAIRLY DOCILE ALTHOUGH HE DOES NEED TO "STRETCH HIS LEGS" FROM TIME TO TIME. HE FEEDS ON FRUITS AND LEAVES AND HAS SOMEWHAT OF AN INTENSE SEXUAL APPETITE. BIG KITCHEN WITH BREAKFAST AREA. BEDROOM WINDOWS FACE REAR COURTYARD NO TRAFFIC NOISE! SOMEWHAT LOW CEILINGS BUT GUT RENOVATED WITH HARDWOOD FLOORS AND ORIGINAL MOLDINGS. NOT RAILROAD! SEPARATE ROOMS WITH TWO ENTRANCES. SECOND FLOOR WALK-UP. YEAR LEASE REQUIRED. FIRST AND LAST PLUS SECURITY. TOTAL OF $1155 MOVE-IN COST. THIS WILL NOT LAST. NO BROKERS PLEASE. <ul> <li> Location: BUSHWICK <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-11T02:53:53-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/750541218.html ALL UTIL. INCLUDED!!! THIS IS THE ONE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! text MISS ME! Goddamnit!! - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/746487587.html Every week I check this damn thing to see if anyone in this city of millions has missed me. What gives? I ride the train no less than twice a day, five or more days a week. I'm pressed against some of you in the commute to/from work. Haven't any of you women missed me? I go to the park. I shop at places. I walk around. I wear shoes. I have ear phones. I drink stuff. Where's my missed connection? Start missing me already, goddamnit. I am very easy to miss. Monday: Go to work after the weekend. Try not to sweat in the sweltering humidity of the subway. No one misses a sweater. Listen to music to drown out the reality of being stuck in the train with a million strangers; avoid eye contact at all cost. Bullshit about the weekend with the coworkers until quitting time. Get caught up on CL. Tuesday: Go to work. Eat at one of same four places around work. Walk around a little during lunch, hoping to bump into someone new. Go home and contact friends to make plans for the weekend. Check CL. Wednesday: Go to work. Getting adventurous now and spend most of lunch break wandering around trying to find someplace new to eat. Realize nothing of interest has been built since I checked last week. End up eating at one of four usual places. Try taking a different route home. This time try to make eye contact with as many strangers as I can on train/bus/ferry/foot. Thursday: Go to work. Spend most of lunch hour running errands, returning library material, getting money from the bank, and calling up friends to reconfirm plans. Go shopping after work. Walk up and down each aisle to make doubly sure everyone has had a chance to miss me. Get home and get frustrated that still no one has posted with my description. Friday: Go to work. Spend all day waiting for work to end. Take smoking break. Look around for smokers to miss. Get out of work. Forget all about CL. Find friends and go eating/drinking/event attending. See more strangers in one night than rest of week combined. Stumble home at ungodly hour. Saturday: Wake up at some point. Roll over to the park. Maybe check out a museum. Try to look deep and lost in thought. Feel envious of all the people missing connections right before my eyes. Think about posting when I get home. Get home and forget or become crushed by laziness or the ennui of it all. Look up ennui in dictionary. Sunday: Fuck it. I'm sleeping in. I'm doing laundry. I'm ordering take-out. I'm not leaving the damn house. You've had your chances all week. I'm taking a me day. I'm reading a book. And by reading, I mean surfing the internet; whereas by book, I mean porn. Knock myself out with the usual roofie-colada, wine + sleeping pill, so I can wake up in the morning and pack myself into an overcrowded train to get to work and check CL. Fucking miss me already. I can't do this forever. <ul> <li> Location: the train <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-08T00:00:19-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/746487587.html MISS ME! Goddamnit!! - m4w text Free Broken Time Machine http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/745957971.html Never got around to fixing it, all the buttons are stuck so it doesn't go in reverse only forward at normal speed come pick it up whenever <ul> <li> Location: Norwalk <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-07T16:33:33-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/745957971.html Free Broken Time Machine text An Open Letter to the Brokers of New York City http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/708026481.html Dear Brokers, I am currently working with FIVE of you to find a decent studio in the city. I’d like to think that from my several weeks of experience that I have a pretty good idea of how you operate and quite frankly, I AM FED UP! I thought I’d compile a list of your flaws (and yes, I will make a generalization) and some very constructive criticism that you should take into account. 1. Stop talking so goddamned fast! You’re not a used car salesman and talking quickly doesn’t make me want the apartment more! Oh my GOD, it’s going, going GONE! Holy shit! We have to LIVE in these apartments, so it’s not a decision that should be rushed by any means! 2. Stop pressuring me to take an apartment I can’t afford! I told you what my MAXIMUM budget is – and let’s be honest, even THAT is pushing it. Why would you have the audacity to show me an apartment that is $250 more a month when you know I can’t afford it? And in addition to that, Stop acting like you don’t know how much it costs to live here! New York City is the most expensive city in the world. I probably make more money than you do, so why wouldn’t you understand that I have a strict budget to follow? 3. Have more consideration for my time! I have a job – I can’t just stop by to see you at your office (where you will inevitably do your best to rip me off) and dick around any old time. If you arrange to meet me somewhere at a specific time, you’d better be there! 4. 72nd Street and 1st Avenue is NOT “baby steps” to the subway! There’s nothing wrong with living on 1st Avenue, but it is by no means a “hop, skip and a jump” to the subway. Stop acting like it is! 5. False advertising is illegal! I responded to an ad for a studio that was $1399 and was “Currently going under complete gut renovation!” I saw the studio and it was nowhere near in the renovation process. On top of that, the broker told me that the rent would go up to $1550 if the owner did decide to renovate it. (Let’s note that he told me this AFTER I told him that $1550 was my maximum monthly rent). 6. Learn to spell, read, write, speak English, etc.! I don’t plan on working with someone who doesn’t know how to spell or speak 2nd grade-level English. Enough said. On a related note, most of you just aren't that smart! So don't think that you can out-smart me, pull a fast one on me, or change your story several times without me catching on! Ok, I think that I’ve let out a little bit of my frustrations of the apartment hunting process. Brokers, it’s hard enough trying to find a place in this city. It would be nice to meet someone who actually did something to deserve the ASTRONMICAL and OUTRAGEOUS broker’s fees that you charge. It would be nice to have someone actually LISTEN to me when I tell them what my needs are. It would be nice to have someone who doesn’t talk a mile a minute and act like a complete scumbag. I hope this posting helps you out and opens your eyes a little bit. I look forward to all of your poorly-worded responses!! Sincerely, A Frustrated Apartment Hunter <ul> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Fee Disclosure: Listed By: </ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-06-04T21:35:24-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/708026481.html An Open Letter to the Brokers of New York City text who put the dead bird in my mailbox? - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/649331801.html a) how did you get into my mailbox in the first place, it is locked b) did you kill the bird c) it died horribly, that much was clear d) you're psycho e) do I know you f) if I do know you I don't want to know you g) if I don't know you, what did I do to inspire you to put a dead bird in my mailbox h) I don't know how to disinfect a mailbox from a dead bird, I'm worried about diseases and have used five different kinds of cleaner but still feel like the bird's still in there still and like my bills and my catalogues and my coupons have dead bird on them i) it was a hummingbird, I looked it up - they don't even live in New York - this is so f*ing psycho, I can't believe this j) are you the mailman? k) I'm always nice to the mailman l) the super didn't care when I told him what happened m) the neighbors didn't care either n) do you have some kind of problem with birds o) don't put anything else in my mailbox p) unless it's an apology q) no, I take that back, I don't even want an apology r) what am I supposed to do with this bird - it's in bubblewrap in a bag in a shoebox in the freezer right now - am I supposed to bury it - where? how? in a construction site where they've jackhammered through the concrete - where is a person supposed to bury things in this city? s) I could drop it in the Gowanus canal, but that seems undignified t) I could drop it in the ocean, but the ocean is so big and it is such a small bird u) I could drop it in the toilet but it would probably get stuck v) I hear this whirring around my ears every time I go to the mailbox and I'm pretty sure it's ghost bird, and I'm all "it wasn't me that killed you, bird!" but still the whirring doesn't go away until I get to the stairwell w) am I supposed to eat it - maybe you were trying to feed me - don't you know I'm a vegetarian x) if this was Ricky, I'm gonna beat your ass, mama told you stop bothering the zoo y) if this was Gina, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, how many times I gotta say I'm sorry z) I could drop it off the roof, maybe it will reincarnate while falling and I can start reading my mail again <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: crown heights <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-04-20T12:56:46-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/649331801.html who put the dead bird in my mailbox? - w4m text KERMIT SEEKS PIGGY http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/648410240.html For the longest time, I have admired the dynamic between this cross species couple. But then, sometime during the 80s, a commercial for the Muppets: Live on Stage added a new dimension. In it, a stretch limousine was pulling up in front of a theater. A footman opened the door, and a shapely, rather thick leg stepped onto the red carpet. As the rest of the form followed, it was revealed that it belonged to a woman wearing a full bodied Miss Piggy costume under an alluring evening dress. AND I WANTED HER. And, to be quite honest, I've never stopped. Some time ago, I found an original full head rubber Miss Piggy mask, circa 1977, complete with a full head of long blond hair. I am looking for a tall, sexy BBW, preferably over 300 pounds, to wear this mask to bed. She should also be open to playing with plastic wrap and liquid latex. Blonde is best, I suppose, but not necessary. Who knows – for the right woman I might just get a green rubber suit and a Kermit mask. <ul> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-04-19T14:10:07-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/648410240.html KERMIT SEEKS PIGGY text Ibanker seeking romance http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/646020922.html Hello, ABOUT YOU: You are a young and good-looking girl. The parental abuse that you incurred as a child has left you emotionally distant and sexually repressed. You are able to sustain months (years?) of loneliness because you shudder at the thought of human interaction. You have a constant feeling of inadequacy leading to excessive hours on the elliptical machine (and, accordingly, a nicely toned bum). I might do stuff to you while you are sleeping at 4AM (when I finally get home from the office), but, other than that, our sex-life will be nonexistent. Naive girls who have been in long-distance relationships and have had their hearts broken by guys who perpetually cheated are more than welcome to email me; I promise that I'm different. ABOUT ME: I am a first year analyst at a bulge-bracket investment bank; this means that I'm either Jewish, Asian, or from old-money (and, therefore, connected up the wazoo). Given that this post is (hopefully) grammatically correct, coherently legible, and satirically palatable, I'd like to think that I got into banking based on merits associated with my intelligence; therefore, I'm probably not from old money and am not connected up the wazoo (sorry). I got into banking as a result of an overwhelming abundance of insecurities. I went to a top-tiered and prestigious undergraduate university, yet, have always felt inferior to the Harvardites and Princetonians that surround me. I'm likely either short and socially outcasted (with excellent kung-fu skills) or schnoz-nosed and unable to date, as every girl I meet in Manhattan is a UES slut that reminds me of my mother. I go to the gym every morning, as my unnecessarily ambitious and secretively compensating type-A personality forces me to always strive for the best. That, and also the endorphins released from the exercise keep me elated enough to prevent attempting suicide for at least 24 hours. I approach dating as I do anything else; as a strict meritocracy where I compete to win. At bars, I won't tell girls that I'm a banker; I feel that it would be unfair to take a girl home by playing the pity card ("Oh, you work in banking? I feel so bad for you. Fine, I guess I'll sleep with you."). I'll likely say that I'm a math teacher at the Dalton School (my Jewish/Asian heritage helps me here) so that girls realize that I'm piss-poor (as are all my other analyst buddies, despite what we tell our family and friends back home) but have Epstein potential. My interests include playing brickbreaker on my blackberry, romantic dinners expensed to my firm, and finding novel ways to entertain myself during late-night hours (posting personal ads on Craigslist at 3AM - FUN; getting head from you while you hide under my desk - PROBABLY FUNNER). If you fit my description (and God help you if you do...) feel free to email me. Pictures of boobs (yours or random ones you find on the internet) would be helpful to include in the email. As I'm posting this with my work email address, I'm hoping to get lucky enough that some back-office rat finds the inappropriate content during a routine inbox sweep, so that I can finally be liberated from this relentless world of superficial elitism. I'm talking about the old-money guys. <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-04-17T15:20:45-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/646020922.html Ibanker seeking romance text Silda Spitzer, I will totally do you. - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/603757171.html Dear Silda Spitzer, I'm not sure why Eliot needed to stray; the deeper afflictions that arise during married life are a private affair (pardon) and to speculate or analyze about them is pointless and cruel. I'm sure you and your husband both have difficult characteristics that drive you to distraction or worse. I am here to tell you that none of those things matter to me, because I do not want to marry you, Silda, I want to fuck you. Silda, let's face it, you're hot. Aitch-Ayy-Double-DoubleYew-Tee. Hawwt. I'm no great catch and have a tendency to be a bit of a prick, but hey, when you're standing there next to Eliot, humiliated, thinking "I can do better", are you really thinking about how much better? No. What's important right now is for you to dish it back, to arch your back and take it doggie-style with a thumb up your butt for good measure, to look back over your shoulder and see a different balding, self-righteous, smirking white guy grunting away and slapping your ass. I am taller than Eliot. When we move to the floor and hit the mish, you can reflect on your options: go for the divorce, the family-rending heartache with the big payday? Or stay together, knowing the payout might be just as good if you're good at slinging the guilt. Either way, Eliot's going to be out of a job for a while. Either way, I'm happy to diddle your clit. Personally, my advice is to wait it out. I mean, Hillary has done pretty well, right? You never know how these things will go. I have had my share of ups and downs, too... and I'm not going to claim I'm any kind of a prince (or an ethics crusader). I have beat a man nearly to death, stolen candy from children, and yes, I'll admit it dirty girl, I'm an atheist. MMmmmm. Like that? None of my personal ups and downs matter anyway, Silda, because with me it's your ups-and-downs, on my glistening love sword, that matter. I'll be waiting, Babe. Oh, and one more thing... I'll only tap you for $78.50 an hour. And that's negotiable, if you're up for anal. Call me.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-03-12T11:11:13-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/603757171.html Silda Spitzer, I will totally do you. - m4w text OK . . . I give up . . . just fuck me like a whore http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/589072628.html OK - I have been trying to meet a "nice" guy for quite a while now, using both traditional methods (set-ups through friends, the bar scene, work, etc.) and non-traditional (i.e., internet dating), and have had abysmal results. By "nice", I don't mean a bible-thumping, republican, up-tight putz who could make a diamond out of a lump of coal planted firmly up his a-hole. I mean a guy who is capable of having a decent conversation that doesn't center around the size of his cock; who is aware of the world around him; who is respectful of people and animals; who doesn't clip his fucking fingernails on the train; who makes me laugh; who parties like a rock star when he has the time; and who can fuck me like a champ after checking his hang-ups at the door. Someone with a brain. A sense of humor. A job. I'm a busy, successful, attractive woman with a professional degree and a great circle of friends. I have a life. What I don't have, however, is a lot of time to wade through a bunch of bullshit. If you just want to get laid, fine; just say that up front so I can move on. Don't make me waste my time exchanging e-mails for days, then stop writing after I don't want to answer the "money" questions after knowing you for 3.5 hours, like 1) what's the craziest sex you've ever had? 2) how often do you masturbate? 3) do you have a nice, clean ass, with clean ass odor? (I couldn't make that up) and 4) do you like oral? (DUH??!!?? WHO DOESN'T??) Apparently, no matter how pretty, sexy, funny, smart, successful, sweet, caring, interesting etc. I am, it all boils down to one thing: fucking. Fine. I give up. You want to fuck? I can fuck. WANTED: a guy to pull out his big, thick cock within five seconds of our first meeting. I want to kneel at your feet and worship you (and your organ) like a greek god. I will take your throbbing love-stick in my mouth and service you like a pro. I will lick the head of your penis, concentrating on the sensitive spot underneath the head, where it meets the shaft. I will then take you fully into my mouth, and move my head all the way down, swallowing the entire length. When you're all the way in and I'm fighting not to gag, I will move all the way back to the tip, then repeat. I will continue, up and down, until I feel that you're about to cum; then I'll stop, lick my way down to your balls, and take take them both in my mouth while stroking your cock with my hand. I will then move around to your back, spread the cheeks of your ass and rim your asshole with my tongue while stroking your cock. I'll shove a finger or two up there, if you like. Once you're good and hard, I'll let you eat my pussy for a while, preferably until I cum two or three times. A little rimming of your own would be nice. Attention can be paid to my breasts (which are D-cups, by the way), or I can pinch my nipples myself. Once my juices are flowing, you can proceed to the fucking. Shove your cock in me, hard, all the way in. The harder the better, and if you're hung like a horse, my prayers have been answered. Keep going. Don't worry about me; I will make myself cum again on my own, either with old-fashioned diddling or my trusty vibrator. My ass needs attention, too, don't forget-I'm a three-input kinda girl! After you've made me cum fucking me the old-fashioned way, slowly (and gently, please!) push your huge dick up my ass. Use lots of astro-glide. I will be a little hesitant at first, but then the yummy pleasure-mixed-with-pain will start to kick in, and I'll get really into it. I'll start shoving my ass back against your cock as hard as I can, until I explode with the hardest orgasm yet. At this point, if you feel like getting your freak on, we can pop in a porno and emulate whatever is happening on the screen. Or, I can pull out my cache of sex toys. You can have me straddle an enormous uber-cock and work as much of it into my vagina as I can take, while you get in on the action by fucking me up the ass. You want a threesome? No problem. I'll invite one of my crazy girlfriends over, and you can watch me eat her out while you masturbate. Or, she can sit on my face while you fuck me. Another option is you banging me from behind while I lick her pussy. The possibilities are endless, really. Once that's over, feel free to pull out and cum on my ass / tits / face / mouth / whatever. See, I do have what you want! Don't tell ME law school was all for naught. . . w4m   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: nyc <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-27T17:34:14-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/589072628.html OK . . . I give up . . . just fuck me like a whore text Fingered on the RED line - Columbia University - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/566032112.html Hi! We were on the RED local line, I got on at 14th Street, you were already on the train. I got off at Columbia University 116th. Around 5PM. It was very crowded and you were behind me. We talked awkardly while you were still behind my back, pushed into each other. I told you I hate being an undergrad, we connected. You eneded up fingering me while no one else was noticing. I didn't get your full e-mail. If you see this, let me know. I hope you do! I miss you.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-07T12:06:33-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/566032112.html Fingered on the RED line - Columbia University - w4m text Dear Star Wars ex-boyfriend, my vag is sore http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/550913075.html Dear Star Wars obsessed ex-boyfriend, A few things as of late have come to light. The fact that you had an entire room dedicated to Star Wars should have been enough to make any sane girl run in the opposite direction, I somehow found it endearing. The fact that you couldn’t string two thoughts together in order to form a cohesive sentence should have made me giggle in your face, instead I patiently waited as you tried to sound like your IQ was above 87. Your crazy mom that decided to “pop in” and vacuum at one in the morning should have definitely made leave, but I stuck by your side. Your sexual inadequacies should have made me run to seek orgasm from another penis, instead I quietly masturbated in the bathroom after your pathetic attempts at coitus. When you told me that you slept with someone else, I must admit that I was mildly relieved as at last this was my way out. But Star Wars obsessed ex- boyfriend, you just had to go and one-up yourself in stupidity. Just when I thought that your stupidity had reached its crescendo a perfect symphony of ignorance, you surprised me. You said something that will forever go down as the worst phrase to ever utter to a girlfriend. You said: “Yeah I slept with someone else, but I had to think about you to get off.” Seriously? Really? Am I supposed to be honored by this? Is this supposed to make me coo with girlish glee and then all can be forgiven? Let’s pretend for a moment that this statement is true. If you had to think about me when you had your heinous-uncircumcised-lion-seal looking penis in what I can only assume is a skanky disease ridden vagina, why did you simply not fuck me instead? God knows I was willing being that I was constantly unsatisfied and willing to give you another go. Well, Star Wars obsessed ex-boyfriend, let me tell you this. I won. First off, I am not going to let you ruin Star Wars for me. I will still giggle with delight at Chewbacca’s noises. I will still find humor in Jabba’s fat face. More importantly, I won because I used my inner rage to go out and fuck the ever living shit out of someone else. Seriously, it was amazing. Porn star status. He came on my face and it tasted like the sweet nectar of the gods. What's more, you ask? The guy is hung like a gorilla, or to put it in terms that you’d understand, he’s packing a light saber. I was walking funny for 4 days, no joke. And you know what Star Wars obsessed ex-boyfriend? I fucked this guy on real sheets. Sheets that didn’t have R2D2 and C3P0 and Tie fighters. Big boy sheets. When I arched my back and looked up I didn’t see any Sith infiltrators on the ceiling. No Death Star. For the first time in a long time I got off without feeling like I should be on “To Catch a Predator” because you, Star Wars obsessed ex-boyfriend, made me feel dirty for fucking in what looked like a little kid’s room. Moral of the story? You might want to put down the Obi Wan doll and pick up a book. That way, you might actually learn a few new words that exist outside of that epic film. Or better yet, next time you feel the urge to say something as dumb as what you said to me, pick up a .22 or if it makes you feel better we’ll call it an IG.22 and shoot yourself in the nut sack, that way we won’t have to worry about you breeding. Oh yeah, and plans are in the works for dressing up as Slave Leia next time. Best of luck to you in not winding up winning a Darwin award.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: not Alderaan <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-25T03:56:27-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/550913075.html Dear Star Wars ex-boyfriend, my vag is sore text Replying to w4m casual encounters ads? A little feedback .. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/535349954.html Sunday I placed an ad around 11pm (I included the photo below, you may recognize it). Yesterday around 6pm my ad got flagged. I don't know why, but it's fine. In between I got about 280 replies and I thought it might be wise to give you some feedback. Most of you guys are afraid of picture collectors and spam. And I can understand that's a serious concern. However, if you think an ad is spam or by someone collecting pictures, don't write an e-mail saying "you real???". What do you expect me to do, write back "am real". Sorry, won't do that because before I know it I'll be getting 10 e-mails a day from 280 different guys. So if you don't get a reply, that does not mean that I'm not real, it simply means that I don't have time to e-mail you back. If you are too concerned about spam and picture collectors, there is one very simple sollution: DON'T RESPOND TO ANY AD. Some other things that irritated me: - replies that say "you send picture first", "show me" or "i sent pic if you sent pic" (never mind the grammar). First of all, I DID include a picture in my ad, so now it's your turn. Second, even if I didn't include a picture, you may want to include a picture in your first e-mail because this is CL and I am a woman and you are a man, which implies that I get 280 replies. - replies that only send cock pictures. Guys, I'm a sucker for a nice, big cock (literally and methaphorically), but I'd like to see your face too. So please send either only a face picture or a face and a dick picture. - please mention your age in your reply. I mentioned mine and even though I didn't ask for yours, it should be standard procedure to include your age. - then there are replies that make demands. Simple: don't do that. Unless it is a demand like "will only fuck with condoms". - replies that make weird propositions, like offering me money (thanks, how flattering...) or asking me to marry you. My ad was in "casual encounters" not in "erotic services" or "ltr". - replies showing off how rich you are or how successful you are. I'm not interested in that, I thought this was all about NSA sex, right? - replies in which I am called a "dirty whore" (I didn't want the money, remember?) or a "short cock slut" (thanks again for the compliment, especially if it's coming from someone three inches shorter than me, but probably you were not referring to me being a short slut who sucks cock, but to you wanting your short cock to be sucked by a slut. Two seemingly similar things, but a world of difference. I do like to suck cock, but am neither short nor a whore; your cock however was anything but big). - replies from guys offering me the opposite of what I'm looking for, because "maybe you'd like something else for a change". If I did, I would have posted asking for something else, wouldn't you think so? - replies with a picture of a bunch of guys without letting me know which one is you. - replies with a picture which is old. One guy replied twice with a picture of which he said he is now 20 lbs less heavy. So why not send me an "after" picture? - replies from guys who say their picture is too large for CL. Resize it. If you can't do it, I doubt that you can resize your cock in the right direction. - guys who say CL does not allow any pictures to be send. When was that? In 1994? - one-liners. No matter how cute you are or how big your cock is, I don't like one-liners and I don't think any other girl does. - Forwarded messages. - Messages that have been sent to a dozen ads at the same time. Even though we all know you were not waiting for me specifically and most of you will fuck anything with a pussy out there, it's still impolite to send your message to many ads at the same time. - Guys who don't reply when I send a message back. - Guys who are overly suspicious when I write back and say that "you can't be real". Why not? And why did you reply in the first place? - Guys that reply a day after I replied. If you want to have a fuck on CL, you'd better check your e-mail. - Guys that can't meet when you like to even though you specified a meeting time in your ad. There are 279 guys I can choose from. - Guys that have "loser" written all-over them. - Guys that made the same joke as a dozens other guys. - Guys that are not in New York. - Guys who ask me for my race preference. I could write back that human races strictly speaking don't exist and that there is only the human race, but that would be pushing it a bit too far in this superconservative country wouldn't it? Of course, a number of replies sparked my interest, and I have either already replied to you or have kept your e-mail for a possible future encounter. THERE IS NO NEED TO REPLY TO THIS AD AGAIN. If you want to show your appreciation for all the suggestions, you can always nominate me for best of. And then there were some replies that I really enjoyed: - a reply from a virgin. Sweet. If you would have had "the looks" I would have picked you and I could have showed you a thing or two. - replies from guys showing their big dicks with a girl sucking on it. Some girls may find that offensive, but I enjoyed it. I've always thought bj pix are cool. If any of you would like to share those type of pix with me, go ahead! But don't be small please and don't send me any internet porn. I've got internet too you know. But if you want to show off the skills of your ex gf, be my guest. - replies from couples. Nice idea, but not what I was looking for yesterday, maybe another time. - guys who wanted to cook for me (I mentioned in my ad that I still needed dinner). Sweet. - guys who were witty and made jokes that were not made by any of the other guys. But please don't try this strategy if this is not your thing. - guys who give compliments that are more original than "sexy pic baby" or "yo you nice holla back at me". You made it to the end: congradulations! Now please improve your replying behavior. PLEASE DO NOT SEND ME ANY MORE REPLIES. I ALREADY HAVE 280 GUYS TO CHOOSE FROM. ESPECIALLY DON'T REPLY TO ME IF YOU ALREADY DID SO YESTERDAY. Thanks!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-11T01:09:29-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/535349954.html Replying to w4m casual encounters ads? A little feedback .. text No, really - someone come get this horrible Chili Beer http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/519536655.html I bought this awful shit for my girlfriend a few weeks ago and it was simply too much for her. Even my brother, who likes to think he's the world's biggest badass when it comes to spicy food and drink, couldn't handle it. I won't drink it because not only do I not care for excessively hot food or drink, but the beer itself also isn't very good - imagine a bottle of piss-water Corona injected with a fiery squirt of Satanic jizz instead of lime and you've got Cave Creek Chili Beer. Think you're the king shit of Scoville units? Come on down and get this swill out of my fridge. I think I have three or four left (pic below isn't mine). My $8 waste is your smoking-hot gain. 21+ only please, not that it matters since most girly Smirnoff Ice-drinking teenagers would cry after one sip of this. Last time I posted this, I got lots of replies but nobody ever showed up. Not screwing around here - please come take it. I'd pour it down the drain but it'll probably chew holes in the pipes and I can't afford that.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Western Suffolk <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-12-26T09:41:35-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/519536655.html No, really - someone come get this horrible Chili Beer text fancy being lavished during the holidays? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/513328535.html the holidays suck. i never thought that i'd ever say that but this is the first time in my life as an adult that i don't have a girlfriend to share in the experience with and it sucks. bad. 3 weeks ago i came home from a night out for steaks and cigars with some of the guys from my office to find that she had cleaned out her drawer in my custom made oak dresser and left a note on my viking stove that simply said "i'm done." i've been texting her like 10 times a day but i haven't heard from her since. what sucks even more about it is that i just got word from my boss at GS this morning about how much my bonus is going to be this year. wanna guess? 772k. and you'd think i'd be happy, right? WRONG! i mean with so many people out there whose lives are so less meaningful because they only make 60 or 70k a year, how could i not be happy? well, think about that for a minute. what use is three quarters of a million dollars per year in income if you've got nobody to share it with, nobody to lavish with flowers and designer bags and shoes and dinners at places like per se, nobu and babbo? what good is the new condo on the west side when i've got nobody to sit out on the balcony to look out over the river and drink egg nog with during the holidays. most importantly, what use is a 15 foot fraser fir christmas tree if i've got nobody to put presents underneath it for? so what am i looking for, you ask? someone to share all of this with at christmas, that's what. i'm out of the office all of next week and i'm going to go crazy all by myself in my huge, shiny new condo. all i ask is that you're reasonably cute and willing to reciprocate my kindness and generosity by keeping me warm on these cold winter nights. i don't even care if you're jewish or some other religion that doesn't celebrate christmas because my parents will be in france and will never find out. together we'll go out for amazing dinners, we'll go shopping together, we'll drink great wines and at the end of the day we'll get each other off fabulously. finally, you need not worry about not being attracted to me. i'm 28 years old and i've still got the same looks/physique that i had when i wrestled in college and have had a certain part of my anatomy compared to a baby's arm. i am also quite charming. so what are you waiting for?  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Manhattan <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-12-18T15:09:50-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/513328535.html fancy being lavished during the holidays? text To the person who broke into my car last night http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/496064331.html You broke into my gray Hyundai Elantra parked on the corner of Wythe and 4th St. As I was parking it, I noticed broken glass on the sidewalk and thought "the lightning never strikes the same spot twice." Well, I was wrong. I wanted to express how much I appreciate your effort to minimize my inconvenience. I understand that you probably come from a disadvantaged background, you may have an addiction or two, or maybe your mother is sick in the hospital. I quite understand your need to break into my car. You only broke the rear passenger small window, so even in the cold weather there are no drifts reaching the front seats. I know it was hard to open the car through that small window, so I appreciate the effort. You took my GPS system. I actually didn't like it because it doesn't allow me to update the maps and they are quite outdated by now. Thank you for giving me a reason to get a much better one. You tool my work blackberry. They are actually upgrading us to the new Pearl model. I was due to get one in February. But thanks to you, I will get a new one on Monday. Thank you! I do miss those $5 in spare change, but it's a small price to pay. Hope it goes a long way towards buying your next fix. And thank you for not taking my garage key, EZ pass car, or NY map. I wouldn't be able to get home without them. I wish all car burglars were as decent as you are. You should start a car burglary etiquette classes. Your biggest fan!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Williamsburg <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-12-02T04:34:28-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/496064331.html To the person who broke into my car last night text Wanted: Heart Surgeon for 1/2 Day Gig - No Pay http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/489856720.html Hi, I need a triple bypass surgery and want to have it done ASAP. We don't have any funds at the moment, but I'll have a friend videotape the whole procedure, and you can have a copy of the DV tape. We're also planning to pitch the idea to some honchos at HBO, so you'll be in on the Ground Floor! It shouldn't take more than 6-7 hours. No amateurs - Experienced Heart Surgeons ONLY!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Compensation: no pay </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-26T11:55:32-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/489856720.html Wanted: Heart Surgeon for 1/2 Day Gig - No Pay text Help me keep the shell people alive. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/485967082.html There is a sad truth to the world today. I am part of a dying breed of people known as "shell users." We are an old-fashioned bunch, preferring the warm glow of a green screen full of text over the cold blockiness of a graphical interface. We use ssh, scp, and even occassionally ftp. Back in the days before high-speed connections ("broadband"), we would dial up during off-hours to avoid being slammed with huge phone bills. The whole "Microsoft Windows" fad will fade away sooner or later, but in the interim, our kind is facing extinction. Because there are fewer and fewer of us, I must help keep our lineage alive. I am looking for someone to help me do this. I need a woman (obviously) who is willing to raise a child with me in the method of Unix. Our child will be introduced to computers at a young age, and will be setting emacs mode before any other child can even read. I earn a sufficient income to support a family in modest comfort. Other than the fact our child will be bright, text-based and sarcastic, we will otherwise be a normal family. We will even go to Disney World and see Mickey Mouse. So, if you are a woman between the ages of 23 and 43 who is ready to raise a child in the way of the shell, let me know so we can begin the process. (If you are ready to raise more than one child, even better.) PS - yes, this is for real. Given the right person, I would obviously propose before we ... call fork(). PPS - I only set emacs mode for my ksh session. I only edit files using vi. Just wanted to clear that up. And I'm looking to raise the child(ren) as a dedicated couple, so if you aren't interested in being married, you may wish to select() a different posting. N.B. - on the issue of relocation. I live in a place where my income/expense ratio is proper (i.e., greater than 2:1). I'm willing to live anywhere in the world where this remains true. I've been to much of the country as well as foreign nations. There are no limits to where I will live *so long as the job market for unix admins is robust enough to be sustainable.* And yes, I am interested in a strictly monogamous situation. I've been known to actually turn down offers of "two chicks at the same time."  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Typical Rich Town, CT <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-21T18:46:15-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/485967082.html Help me keep the shell people alive. text Why Must You Bother the Nice Women? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/476195476.html Dear Moron at Duane Reade, Earlier this evening, I spotted a roach in my apartment. The brazen bastard walked around like he owned the place, ignoring me even as I picked up my shoe and prepared to crush him. Well, he's gone, but of course roaches have friends, so it was on. My wife hates bugs, and her problems become my problems. She's out of town, allowing me to take swift action without her needing to know about the roach I hunted and killed. I headed out to Duane Reade to purchase roach poison, the kind the bastards carry back to their nests, thereby serving as my tools of destruction. Poison in hand, I saw with disappointment a long line facing the register, at which a manager was helping a cashier with some sort of problem. Good news for the roaches, whose death was briefly delayed. Moments later, you too discovered the long line. Unlike the rest of us, who suffered our disappointment silently, you loudly asked (of whom I cannot say) for permission to cut the line. It turns out this isn't Mayberry, and a woman near the front of the line replied. "No," she said. You then tried to hit on her in a ham-fisted fashion, asking if that was her "real hair." Eventually you moseyed to the back of the line, which had lengthened during your pathetic attempt at courtship. (By the way, your focus on hair was especially amusing considering your long blond hair, two-day beard, and blazer. You were sporting the "Kid Rock at the country club" look.) Then our troubles began. You commenced a barrage of annoying comments directed at the "No" woman, suggesting at one point that you would gladly be "a piece of trash crushed by [her] boot." This is America, and you're entitled to your fantasies, even of a "crushing" nature. But keep it together, son! You were in public, speaking loudly to a stranger seven-or-so people ahead of you in a Duane Reade line. Muttering to yourself "This isn't working; she doesn't like me at all," while perhaps meant to be endearing in a cute, self-deprecating way, did not make up for the awkwardness you created. People in line winced as you continued to embarrass yourself. Eventually, the manager solved the cashier's problem and opened a second register. Things started moving, albeit slowly. Your comments continued unchecked. "Can we get married? I love you." Really, have some self-respect. You went on at such length that I recalled those experiments showing that the larger the crowd, the less likely anyone is to help during a crisis. After all, surely that other guy will confront the loudmouthed Kid Rock clone at Duane Reade---why should I get involved? Was I in a psych experiment? If you turn out to be a graduate student of human behavior, please accept my apologies for this rant. I could stand it no more. The manager's slowness had allowed you to subject the woman to one too many obnoxious utterances, and I turned to you and said, "I know this is New York, and people generally mind their own business, but could you give it a rest?" "No," you said. "Are you gonna punch me and make me stop?" "Probably not," I replied. I think we all would have bet good sums that I wasn't going to punch you. I certainly it wasn't worth a night in jail and risk to my law license just to teach you some manners that Joe C neglected to share with you before shuffling off this mortal coil. What would I tell my cellmates in the Tombs, "I'm here 'cause I punched some pantywaist at Duane Reade?" I don't think so. I would have needed to cook up some more exciting story, which some jailhouse snitch would have repeated in hopes of a reduced sentence. And it would have been just my luck that whatever nonsense I made up ("I killed a clown in Union Square for looking funny at my cilantro.") would have actually happened last weekend, leading to my arraignment and unemployment. Yes, yes, I'd have gotten the indictment dismissed eventually when the real clown killer came to light, but that wouldn't get me my job back, would it? And my picture in the New York Post below the screaming headline "FANCYPANT$ LAWYER BRAINS MIME WITH BRIEFCASE" would have linked me with clown murder indelibly in the public mind, which isn't easy to live with. Regardless, you don't even know I have a law license, and for all you know I like fighting people at Duane Reade. You couldn't be sure, could you? So you quieted down for a while. Then, as the woman headed for the door, her purchases in hand, you muttered all-too-loudly, "She's hot, and I have a right to say so." Finally, something we can agree on. She is hot, or at least cute; I didn't get a good look at the front of her, what with her working so hard to avoid making eye contact with some idiot behind me in line. Your legal reasoning skills, however, leave much to be desired. Before you mail your application for a faculty post in First Amendment law at Columbia, consider this: Her being attractive does not provide you with a license to harass and humiliate her. Every time a woman hesitates before walking outside wearing something flattering, people like you are the cause. I wonder if she considered whether her Duane Reade trip was all that urgent, if maybe she shouldn't walk out after midnight but should wait until tomorrow instead. If she did, you and your ilk were part of her concern. I for one enjoy seeing women walking the streets in attractive garb. My personal taste aside, women---like everyone else---should be free to walk around without being bugged by morons. So pull yourself together. Leave the nice women alone, find your dignity, and stop making problems for the rest of us. Sincerely Yours, A Man More Annoyed with You than with Roaches, Which Is Saying Something  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-12T02:09:47-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/476195476.html Why Must You Bother the Nice Women? text We met for a drink and you caught me making out with a man - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/457124956.html I'm sorry. You were taking so long in the bathroom and this guy was looking at me. Next thing I knew we were making out and you came back and stormed out of the bar. I just want you to know that I really liked you and I'm not gay, I just have gay experiences sometimes. You are a beautiful girl and I'm glad that you came on date with me. I would like very much to try again. This time I will give all my love to you.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-23T09:27:15-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/457124956.html We met for a drink and you caught me making out with a man - m4w text To the gentleman who called me a depreciating asset http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/445962092.html Dear Sir, I must confess that I was somewhat taken aback upon reading your email. Indeed, it has taken some time for me to sufficiently recuperate from my surprise. Lest your confidence quickly inflate for little reason (as we know is the predisposition for Wall St. types), allow me to hasten to reassure you that the source of my surprise was neither your candor nor the accuracy of your perception. Indeed, it is your "claimed" success in light of your poor grasp of economics which has me baffled. If the standards required to meet with financial success on Wall St. have sunk so low, perhaps I should indeed "make my own money", except for the fact that the effort/reward ratio is far too high for my liking - especially when so many of your ilk have displayed a far more cogent grasp of market realities than you have. By now you are likely scratching your ever-vanishing hairline in confusion, so allow me to elaborate, dear man. To build some credibility I will tell you a bit more about yourself. Though you did not mention the details of your occupation, it is clear that you are an investment banker and not a trader, as any good trader would understand that human courtships are based upon a semi-efficient open market, and not an investment banking cartel. However, your inability to grasp the realities of the dating market is not surprising, given that you have successfully employed the tools of collusion and market manipulation rather that true acumen in your supposed wealth generation. If your grasp of finance were not a minority partner with your ego, you would realize that the "outflows" associated with my depreciating "assets" are quite certain, and therefore subject to a low discount rate when determining their present value. In addition, though your concept of economics evidentially failed to move past the 1950s, advancement in plastic surgery is not subject to the same limitation. Thus, with some additional capital expenditure, the overall lifetime of "outflows" generated by these assets is greatly increased. Sad that Ashton Kutcher has demonstrated understanding of the female asset class which you, in all of your financial "wisdom", have not. You, on the other hand, are, given the uncertainty of the Wall St. job market, more of an inflation-indexed junk bond with an underwater nested call option. Though you may argue that you are more of an equity investment, my monetary minimums required from you do not change, and if you are unable to pay them, I will liquidate you without the benefit of a chapter 11, just as you would me. Because your outflows are so much more uncertain with respect to mine, I require additional compensation in the form of a underwater nested call option on your future assets. I say underwater because, even taking into account the value of your junk bond coupon payment to me, the value of my "outflow" is in excess of the market price of your equity (which is quite low due to its riskiness associated with your poor grasp of finance and my existing claim upon your junk bond coupon). I must thank you though for raising the question, despite the reputation cost of subjecting your weak logic to such widespread scrutiny. This took either considerable courage or ignorance on your part- and we'll give you the benefit of doubt, just this once. My current boyfriend (a trader who lives in Central Park West, of course) and I thoroughly enjoyed discussing your response and we wish you the best of luck in your unhappy pursuit of that elusive market inefficiency. This message is in response to: I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament. Firstly, I'm not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here's how I see it. Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here's why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here's the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity...in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won't be getting any more beautiful! So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you're 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you! So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold...hence the rub...marriage. It doesn't make good business sense to "buy you" (which is what you're asking) so I'd rather lease. In case you think I'm being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It's as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage. Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as "articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful" as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn't found you, if not only for a tryout. By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn't need to have this difficult conversation. With all that said, I must say you're going about it the right way. Classic "pump and dump." I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-11T08:23:04-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/445962092.html To the gentleman who called me a depreciating asset text Diola lle, lovers of Middle Earth - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/396775293.html A mere day ago, I cast out my spell of seduction, searching for men true of heart and lustful in their drives who understood the true meaning of "fantasy" and "roleplay". Alas, the spell was a strong one, for the call was apparently heard 'round the realm; so much that I fear now that my cup (and inbox) runneth over... I have found my love for now--the one who not only cast the most charismatic photo magick and spoke most eloquently and most Elvishly, but who speaks masterfully of Beowulf, from whence I take my namesake. And so I remove myself, overwhelmed as I am, from this modern etherworld... for now. I thank all of you for your kind words and noble efforts... though, to be fair, this maiden could have done without those many messages affixed with renderings of your coarse nether regions. Namaarie, rwalaerea. Lle ume quel. Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha. Tenna' telwan, Freawaru  <img src=396775293.jpg>  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-14T11:46:57-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/396775293.html Diola lle, lovers of Middle Earth - w4m text NYC SUBWAY RANT: JESUS CHRIST! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/390658591.html OK, I have been riding the subway every day for a lot of years. When you start riding, it doesn't take a much time to see all sorts of characters. At first, these people sightings might be somewhat shocking or even funny, but you begin to grow used to the pants less, toothless, yelling, drunk, cracked out, stinky, sweaty, and perverted characters that ride the subway. They really don't bother you much; in fact I welcome a little cameo from these guys once in a while. After all, it is part of our city culture. That said I have compiled a list – a spilling of my mental Rolodex of the people I share the subway with on a daily basis. These are the monsters I can't get used to and won't accept. They annoy the ever-loving piss out of me. Thing is, I never see these hooligans all at once, but I do see one at least once a day. - Lady that fans herself with a piece of paper in the train car with broken a/c: Look lady, the air is hot. Not just your air but everyone's air. We are all breathing in each other's nasty hot breath and germs and here you go creating a gust of hot wind. This does not cool you down and it is especially fucking annoying when the car happens to be stuck that day, all is silent and we are forced to listen to the flip flopping of your paper up and down as you breath in and out deeply. So fucking ridiculous. - Chinese guy with yellow nails and a bag of chicken feet: Dude, I'm not even kidding, you are nasty as hell. No one likes a set of long man-nails near them EVER and here you are wrapping those daggers around the center subway pole nearly slicing innocent bystanders as the plastic bag of chicken feet sways near your legs. Oh yes, and what are you going to do with those chicken feet anyway? Take advantage of us poor unknowing customers by grinding them up to use as filler in the next batch of HAPPY FAMILY from the local Jade Garden? I mean Jesus. - Asshole with the sunglasses on: OK, there is no sunshine on the subway. This is not the L train pal. You sit there with your black as night shades on clearly staring at people for as long as you please. That's just wrong. Your probably staring at the lady's tits who is standing above you or even undressing some poor middle schooler with your eyes. Not only are you taking ample amounts of time to fanaticize about unsuspecting riders, but you look like an idiot doing it. This is especially worse when you also chew gum with an open mouth like a friggin' cow. You are drawing attention to yourself now and I can tell by the direction of your neck muscles that you were staring at me! Lady on the 8:30 F train Monday morning - you know who you are! - Jerk that leans over you to look at the subway map: OK, your ball sac is 2 inches from my face. You don't care do you? Even though you've traumatized me and I lean back in my seat to shy far far away from your jewels, you lean in closer to get a better look at where to transfer from the E to the D train! Yuk man, have some manners. This is worse when you are sleeping with your head in your hands and wake to find a pants slacks covered man bulge in your grill. - Ghostfarter: OK, I know it may be hard to hold it, but if you had diarrhea this morning of course your farts are going to reek! I mean the train is crowded with little ventilation yet you subject us to the rotten remnants of your ass-meal. This is inconsiderate and nasty! Hey if one clipped out, OK - it's happened to the best of us but you try to move around a bit and circulate. Don’t just stand there and poof out stinker after stinker while you read your paper! I'm talking about the well-dressed guy in the suit or the one hot chic on the train, it was probably you! - Asshole with the book bag: If your bag more than 3 inches off of your back for god's sakes put it in front of you toward the floor! This is common knowledge!! I can't tell you how many times some retard with a book bag extending 3 feet tall off his back has decided to turn around and talk to his friend or bend down to tie his shoe and clock me one without knowing the difference. Yeah, that was me who bumped you on purpose. I hate you! - Lady that hugs the pole on a crowded train: Are you fucking blind!?? There are other people riding the train with you jerk but yet you proceed to make sweet love to the silver pole. Can we maybe hold on for a second TOO so we don't break and ankle??!!! Then, when we ask you to move you PRETEND you don't speak English. Real nice. Why don't you walk to work with a broomstick and hug that you shitbag. - Nail Clipping Fool: This means you regular business guy with no regard or oblivious Asian lady. Jesus Christ, does anyone have manners?? DO NOT CLIP YOUR NAILS ON THE SUBWAY! I should be making signs for god's sakes! Not only are we subjected to the resonating sound of your clipping but your nail shrapnel is flying every which way and hitting men, women and children. This is by far the most disgusting thing ever. I'd like to take a free shot at your gut while fellow train riders hold you up.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: NYC <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-06T14:33:59-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/390658591.html NYC SUBWAY RANT: JESUS CHRIST! text Potato Cannon http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/390476890.html It's 8ft long. My neighbors figured out what was happening so I need to get rid of it today.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Park Slope <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-06T11:21:55-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/390476890.html Potato Cannon text I will trade you records if you hang out with me and you are female http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/368733833.html <ttt><h3>tell me about who you are send pic hang out with me nice guy white male in astoria i will give you 10 lps for an hour and 1/2 of hanging out i will give you 15 lps for a massage no guys just female only rock lps mostly dont ask for list come here and look through it you wont get any free ones for looking through them only for hanging out   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-07-07T16:49:11-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/368733833.html I will trade you records if you hang out with me and you are female text Why I no longer want to have sex http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/362940891.html I have decided, after much deliberation, that I will no longer be having sex. It has taken me 9 years of unsatisfactory sex to realize that men are clueless in bed and that my time will be much better spent pleasuring myself. I am aware that I will be spending a lot more money on AA batteries and I have come to terms with that. I will still be saving money, by not having to buy condoms. I just want to make it clear that it is not that I cannot have an orgasm, I have them all the time, just not with someone else in the room, it is just that guys do not get what it takes to get a woman off. For the other girls out there that have not become completely disgusted with the lack of sexual ability among men, I will lay out these rules for men to follow: 1-Breasts are attached. They are a part of our body and grabbing them so hard that they are literally lifted from the chest DOES NOT feel good. It hurts. 2-Nipples are sensitive. This means that sucking them is good. Gently holding one in your teeth while flicking your tongue across it is good. Some LIGHT biting is good. Biting them like you would a steak, all the while asking "how does that feel baby?"...not good. It fucking hurts. 3-There are more to our breasts that the nipples and the entire breast would like attention too. Just make sure that you have read rule #1. 4-Fingering is a multi step process. First off if a girl is not wet, don't try to stick two fingers up her. That will just hurt her. Make sure she is wet. If she is not, make out with her, play with her breasts a little and that should do the trick. Girls like the feeling of being fucked with a guy's fingers, but please make sure that your fingers are not all dirty, do not have hangnails, or anything else that can make us uncomfortable. Also, the majority of women do not have an orgasm from pentration. Now men, I know that this is a blow to your ego because most of you believe that you can get a woman off from a good hard fucking every time. The women are faking it, and yes, this has happened to every single guy. Every single one, you are not a sex god. 5-The clit is a delicate thing. #5 will deal with fingering the clit. Oral sex will be talked about next. The clit is the center of a woman's sex life. We love our clits, they bring us lots of joy. If you are going to rub it, please keep that finger wet. Rub it gently. Remember that the more excited we get the more excited our reaction gets. That is not an invitation to start rubbing it harder, it means we love the way you are doing it at that time. Don't change it. Do not try to press into it super hard, or rub it out with the pad of your thumb. Nothing can make a girl turned off quicker than a pained clit. 6-Oral sex should not be as dull as watching paint dry. Most girls loved to be eaten out. It is awesome when done properly. Lick the entire thing, but remember the clit is your friend. You want a girl to go crazy, alternate between her clit and the rest of her pussy. But...once she starts getting close, concentrate on the clit. It is okay if you want to take you fingers and spread her lips to fully expose the clit while your tongue works magic in it. Also, some girls like to have you fuck them with a few fingers right before they come, while you CONTINUE to lick their clit. Fucking a girl with your tongue will feel nice to her, but seeing again that the majority of women do not orgasm from pentration, we will not get off from it. 7-Fucking is not a race. Sex is great, it feels wonderful. Even though I will not orgasm from sex, it still feels amazing. Take your time. I did not get a brazilian bikini wax and spend $100 on new underwear to have something that lasts for 3 minutes. I don't care if you are so worked up that you have to bust a nut. Think of something else, think of Rosie O'Donnell or your great Aunt Esther, or anything to calm yourself down and let us enjoy a good hard dicking. There should be a ten minute minimum and 30 minute maximum of pure fucking that is mandated by law. Of course there are days where a quick fuck is in order, or a marathon session is desired, but as a general rule, the above time frame works. We like it gentle and hard, but please do not fuck us so hard that our heads are banging into things. Concussions have no place in the bedroom. 8-Variety is the spice of life. Sometimes us girls want to just be taken missionary style, sometimes we want to be your dirty girl that takes it from behind doggie style while you grip our ponytail with one hand and finger our ass with the other. Sometimes we want to take control and just ride you off into the sunset, sometimes we want slow Sunday morning side sex that is more for intimacy that sexual pleasure. 9-Talk dirty to us. Call me you whore, your dirty little slut, tell me what you want-in detail. Tell me to suck your cock. Tell me play with myself as I lick your balls. If this kind of talk is broken out every once in a while as a surprise (and only in the bedroom), it can make things really hot. 10-Don't be afraid to try new things with us. It is ok, if you want to ask me to do something to you that is not in the 'vanilla' sex rulebook. You want me to stick two fingers up your ass when I blow you, ask. You want to eat out my asshole as you jerk off then come all over my tits. Just ask. Just remember that girls like to get to know a guy before he breaks out his freakier side and that slightly freaky things should be exception sex. Meaning, most girls would be down with doing non-vanilla things every once in a while with a guy that she cares about a trusts. In fact, most of us get wet at the thought of having a little more freakiness every once in a while. So you want to stick an anal plug in me and move it in and out while we '69', just ask. Happy learning men, and happy trails ladies. Hopefully this post will do some of you guys some good in bed.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Nassau <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-06-29T11:03:34-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/362940891.html Why I no longer want to have sex text To all my clients....from your friendly online porn store http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/349423094.html I have run an online adult goodies store for about 3 years now. To say the least, I have run into some interesting characters in my 3 years of online smut-pandering. I am about to end my run of naughty knick-knacks and I'd just like to give a wee shout-out to the people who struck me as the most interesting, funny, annoying and downright memorable. Here goes nothing.... 1. Angry, self-righteous female customer : You placed your order Sunday night. By Monday morning, you were emailing me IN GIANT RED ANGRY LETTERS that you had not received an email telling you that your order had shipped. I politely emailed you back within minutes stating that orders take about 4 business days to ship out (remember that little button you had to click on that said you read and understood ALL our policies BEFORE you were able to place your order? Well, that little gem was in there!). You emailed me again less than 45 minutes later stating in GIANT BOLD RED FONTS that you will report my website to the BBB if I didn't send your order out immediately...hmm, the only way I know to get something right away is to get on the bus/subway/in a cab, high tail it to the adult store of your choice and purchase said items in person. After your 5th email that day screaming/demanding/threatening, to ship your items or else, I finally told you to take a flying leap off a short bridge and I refunded your money ( all $17.99 of it!). The customer is NOT always right..often times she is a total bitch! 2. Weirdo who always bought the same dildo, then cancelled his order 15 minutes later: To respond to your query: NO I don't know if this is a 'good cock'..Even if I bought this particular item for myself, I certainly wouldn't tell a complete stranger my opinion of it! After you fifth purchase of this item in less than a month, I finally banned your sorry ass from buying anything at my store again. Every time i have to refund your money, I lose money myself! My credit card processor take 5% that I will never see again! You were a man buying a particularly LARGE (John Holmes) dildo...this doesn't mean that you are gay or anything and frankly I don't care on way or the other..but from the desperate, seeking emails you sent me and the number of times you asked for a refund, I am guessing that you couldn't come to grips with whatever angst you were feeling at the times you thought 10 inches of Ultra-Skin would feel REALLY good in your ass. 3. Woman who bought about $650 worth of stuff at Xmas, then emails me 6 months later claiming that she only got about half of her order: Sorry, but most normal people would let me know within a couple weeks of getting a tracking number that most of your order didn't show up. Oh, BTW, you had the WHOLE THING sent to one address, so please don't lie to me and tell me that over half of the people 'you had it shipped to' didn't get their items...how freaking stupid do you think I am? I am the only one running this company, so when you tell me to 'ask my shipping department what happened", I don't have to walk far to make that query. 4. Strange customers who keep 'reviewing' the John Holmes cock(that is ONE popular item)....I don't need you posting the same review 500 times! Holy crap, I get it! You LIKE this dick..... 5. People who have AOL or Yahoo accounts...WE STATE on our front page and BEFORE you place the order that you MUST add us to your address book on your email account to get your confirming email. For some reason we often can't get through to you. PLEASE don't email us threatening to call the BBB because you didn't get an email confirming your purchase of the Badunkadunk Booty "Do-it-in-the-Butt" RealSkin fake vagina/ass combo. We WANT to get that email to you! Trust me, you don't want to have to explain to the BBB or your credit card company why you are complaining/doing a charge-back for a $225 item that an elephant could easily have relations with. 6. Creepy guy that offered to exchange 'web services' for adult products: You wanted the Kobe Tai Ultra Realistic Ass and Pussy in exchange for helping me 'get my website out there."...Well, I'm guessing it's already out there since I get about $3000 worth of business a month- not to mention YOU found it so I can't be too far gone in cyber space that no one can hear me scream. I would REALLY feel a little weird setting up a relationship with you based on the knowledge that our first 'exchange' of funds was a phony pussy. It just would creep me out every time I talked to you to know that you were banging that fake vagina. Ick!!!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: everywhere <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-06-11T01:56:17-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/349423094.html To all my clients....from your friendly online porn store text Alluring, difficult woman seeks stable and assertive man http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/335213414.html I am in search of a patient, assertive, and attractive man to aid me in my quest for self-improvement. These qualities are non-negotiable and the explanation is as follows. After two intense failed relationships, {both which, in retrospect, were almost completely my fault but I was able to successfully manipulate things so as to make each man believe they were in the wrong} I have spent a lot of time thinking about who I am and I have isolated several personality traits that make it somewhat difficult for a normal person to have a relationship with me. I am looking for a man who is secure enough in himself to tolerate our exciting lifestyle {a background or degree in psychology is a plus.} I am determined to find a healthier way of approaching things, as I never want to ruin anyone's life ever again. I have decided to be completely honest right off the bat, therefor eliminating the time it takes to 'get to know one another' {i.e. time it takes for you to realize I am a complete psycho- but by then you are completely helpless to resist my allure and charisma and are unable to wrench yourself from me, your beautiful demise.} Some things you should know: *I have a major 'Daddy' complex. My father, whom I adored as a god, left when I was young. No matter how well you treat me, you will never be as good of a man as my Daddy. *I will never trust you. The first of two men I thought I loved and slept with cheated on me time and time again, and impregnated other women and paid for their abortions with my money. I did not find any of this out until two years into our relationship when we had a home and a life together and I was pregnant with a child of my own. These indiscretions, and my tendency to be rash and impulsive led to me having an abortion. I am prone to bouts of melancholy and self-hatred because of the guilt I still feel over this decision. *I have no communication skills. I will never tell you what is wrong with me, nor will I share any of my secrets, fears, hopes or dreams with you. {I do have several of these- one of them is to someday not be so crazy.} You will have to pry information out of me. I feel like if I confide in you, when I ultimately drive you away- which I am bound to do- you will have these personal pieces of me and that makes me feel vulnerable and I am terrified of being vulnerable. *I have an addictive personality. I was a crack addict when I was 15-16, and relapsed again when I was 18. I like to think I have conquered these addictions but it wouldn't surprise me if I relapsed again. *I am a cold and unemotional bitch. This, of course, is all a facade, but you will constantly wonder if I truly care about you or not. If you do not pay me 100% of your attention, I will feel rejected and inwardly wonder why you do not love me. Then I will pretend that you are nothing more to me than a mote of dust- which of course I do not notice. If you pay me too much attention I will feel cagey and suffocated and walk out the door without telling you where I am going and may not return for several days. No matter how long we are together, you will never see me cry. I am a brick wall. **CLARIFICATION**- About once every five months I will cry over my vacuumed fetus but when this happens I will lock myself in the smallest possible space I can find so you cannot see me. This is usually a closet or a bathroom, although I was partial to a large trunk I owned until someone confiscated it with my best interests in mind. *Although I will always be completely faithful to you, I will have no less than five men in line who are able and willing to keep me platonic company if you ever need to leave for any reason. This is because I cannot bear to be alone, even though I pretend that that is all I want. *I am terrified of commitment. Know that I will never marry you, or if in a moment of confusion I do agree to marry you, I will not show up on our wedding day. *I have some sexual preferences that some people may not be able to handle. I want sex several times a day and I like to be hit, choked, and called nasty names. Please be comfortable with such abuse. * I am incredibly indecisive. I do not know what I want to eat, wear, or do at any given time. Once we have reached a decision I will change my mind. I am also extremely scatterbrained and lose my keys, phone, wallet, etc. on a regular basis. I will expect you to be able to locate these items. I am also very impatient and want what I want when I want it, with no regards to your feelings. *I throw punches when I feel cornered. I kickbox, so they are good punches. Now that that is out of the way, I do have some redeeming qualities! *I am beautiful, intelligent, educated and articulate. You can be assured that all of your family and friends will envy you for having such a wonderful girlfriend. I am definitely the girl you can bring home to mom. You and only you will know of my dichonomy and my psychotic antics when we are alone. *I can cook a mean steak. *When I am happy, {which is a good portion of the time} you will feel like the most amazing man alive and the center of my universe. *I am artistically gifted. *I have a stable and lucrative career. *I make friends with everyone, including homeless people and vicious dogs. I take bugs out of my house and let them go. As mentioned, I am extremely charismatic and you will be unable to resist my charms. I guarantee you will fall in madly and twistedly love with me, and although you know that I will ultimately leave you in an emotional bloody shredded heap in pursuit of my own needs, you will be unwilling and unable to exorcise me from your life, so serious replies only, please. P.S.- Please be an animal lover. If you are not, then I am not the girl for you.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-21T10:39:55-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/335213414.html Alluring, difficult woman seeks stable and assertive man text Yesterday was hell http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/333345372.html All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience: 0.Occupied 1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one. 2.Poo on seat. 3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat. 4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet. Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot. I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier. Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently. - Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence. "Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??" Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching. - Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet. After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth. As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know. I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-18T07:44:54-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/333345372.html Yesterday was hell text you PISSED on my floor http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/325829361.html so I know things weren't going well. I tried to break up nicely a lot of times. I really didn't want to hurt you, but neither of us were happy. We were both miserable infact. I'm sorry it didn't work out. It would have been lovely if we had both fallen madly and passionately in love- but we didn't. it needed to end. all of that, however doesn't explain why YOU PISSED ON MY FLOOR and then you left. I called to see if you had somehow slipped. I was hoping there was an explanation. You hung up on me. I'm pretty sure that means you deliberately PISSED ON MY FLOOR i don't even know what to say to that. I don't know what to think. I'm not sure I can protect your dignity anymore. I need to tell everyone, because it's so fucking crazy. YOU PISSED ON MY FLOOR. I have a new rule in my apartment now. Its the NO PISSING ON THE FLOOR RULE. it goes like this- DON'T PISS ON MY FUCKING FLOOR. thanks for a good laugh though. It's so much better than the cliche shit that ends way too many relationships. I"m sure the next time I break up with someone, I'll be saying AT LEAST HE DIDN"T PISS ON MY FLOOR.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: not in the toilet <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-07T01:23:42-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/325829361.html you PISSED on my floor text Celebrity Nail clippings for Elementary Math tutor http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/322080302.html I work at a very prestigious nail salon in new york, with an a-list clientel. I have a collection of nail clippings from various clients such as Cameron Diaz, Gweyn Stephani, Beyonce and Scarlett Johansen. My son who is in 7th grade is in desperate need of a Math tutor. I live in Manhattan and I would be willing to meet at a mutual location with my son. I will be willing to trade my collection for four one hour sessions. Serious inquiries only please. Thank you.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-01T00:31:24-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/322080302.html Celebrity Nail clippings for Elementary Math tutor text How to Write an Effective Missed Connection http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/318846660.html Gazing From Afar… Be Specific There are 8 million people in New York City. Don't assume the person you think you missed a connection with saw you, let alone remembers you. Be specific! Name which train, which direction, the time, the street, the stop, the bar, their initials, hair color, eye color, embarrassing tattoo placement, the song that was playing on the Jukebox at the time... For God sake, people, be specific! You're trying to make the connection this time! Focus on Them You were wearing a brown jacket with beige trim and have black, slightly highlighted hair, swooping three inches to the left? That's great, but what were they wearing? You noticed them. How do you expect them to know you're looking for them if you can only talk about yourself? Be Brief Keep it short and sweet. Nobody wants to read a dissertation about the person you think you might have possibly made eyes at on the subway. Get in and get out. Pay a Compliment You've been thinking about this person long enough to get on the Web and type something up, so take the time to make your compliment count. Most girls don't want to hear, "Your ass looked so damn fine." You are trying to get her to write you, remember? People tend to like words like "beautiful", “handsome”, "breathtaking", "gorgeous". If you're at a loss, check a Thesaurus [see also: dictionary.com]. Write Properly This is your second chance at a first impression. Don't blow it with bad grammar. If you're too lazy to hit the Shift key every now and then, at the very least, make the effort to type out full words, write in complete sentences, and punctuate. And for God sake, stop screaming. Don't Beg Yes, we know you'd love to talk to this person. We know, because you just spent (hopefully only) a couple sentences explaining who they are and why you noticed them. If you did a good job with this, it really isn’t necessary to reiterate that you'd love to talk. That is why you filled out the e-mail form at the bottom of the page. Be Charming or Clever Chances are good that they didn’t notice you the first time, but if you’ve done a good job describing them, and are charming, cute, or clever enough in your delivery, you still have a shot in hell that they might contact you anyway. And if they did notice you the first time, a little charm never hurt anyone. We Talked, But I Was Too Shy… What did we talk about? Mention something memorable you said, because the person you spoke with may have talked to a lot of people that night. Our Time Has Passed, But… Be Specific If random spottings on the streets of New York need specificity, it’s possible that it’s even more crucial here. Many people have experienced bad breakups. Many people are missing someone or are hoping they are missed. Vagueness is not endearing here. Use the person’s initials and mention at least one thing that only the intended person would recognize or know about. The downside to not being specific enough here is that everyone will think it’s about them, which brings us to… Don’t Start a Conversation You shouldn’t need to start an ongoing conversation in order to figure out whether or not you are the intended receiver of the missed connection. These can go on for pages, and are frankly annoying. Follow step one and you won’t need step two. If you are the intended receiver of the missed connection, there are e-mail links included for a reason. Use them. I Gave You My Number, But You Never Called This isn't a missed connection. This is tough shit.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: The Internets <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-04-25T19:48:45-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/318846660.html How to Write an Effective Missed Connection text An EPIC mount! (warcraft players look inside) - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/308349637.html Hello I need 5000 world of gold for my epic flying mount. In return you can mount me. You have to have an account on the laughing skull server and I want the 5000 gold BEFORE we do anything, we can make the trade at your place since I can't host. EDIT: Because I am having a lot of dumb guys message me who clearly don't have the gold make SURE to send: a picture of yourself and a screenshot of your character with the 5000g, I will be checking armory profiles, thanks. I play a level 70 night elf druid and would prefer someone who was into roleplaying (I have a costume!) but honestly anyone will do, as long as you have the gold. I would also be ok with a woman too, as long as you have the gold! Also not adverse to the idea of groups\anal. Please send a pic and be real and drug\disease free with 5000 gold on the laughing skull server.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-04-08T20:07:25-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/308349637.html An EPIC mount! (warcraft players look inside) - w4m text I will apologize because I don't feel like going to jail. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/283039616.html I’m in the subway in New York city and it’s rush hour. I’m in a torture chamber. I’m crammed between a mans slimy perspiring arm pit, a woman with a stroller and an older lady who keeps looking over at me and saying... "Don’t fucking touch me, bitch." ...every time the train slows or jolts and I accidentally brush her sleeve with mine. I’m trying to ignore her. I’m trying to be calm. I’m trying really, really hard. I’m concentrating on my shoes, the logo on some guys shirt, a billboard advertising English lessons... "Next stop is 103th st. stand clear of closing doors please."... I brush against the angry women’s arm as the train takes off and she gives me the kind of look one might give to a person they were about to destroy... "If you fucking touch me again, I’m gonna scream. I fucking mean it, you stupid white ho"... "Sorry."... is what I say, although what I really want to say is... "I know martial arts and if you curse at me again I with put you in a headlock and cut off your goddamn air supply."... But I don’t because I’m polite and I’m patient and I don’t let my emotions control my life. My life, no. My imagination, oh yes. As the woman continues to rant at me I imagine pushing her up against the subway doors, lifting her frail twisted body off the floor. I’m holding her neck with one hand because I have super strength. I tell her politely and patiently that she’s not the only one with problems. I tell her that all humans suffer, I tell her that’s she’s a complete cliche. I tell her that yes, on the surface I look like a privileged white girl who deserves to be shat on emotionally by those less fortunate, but in reality my mother died a few days ago and I just lost my job and my cat is sick and I have 13 dollars in my bank account, and sometimes I start crying on the street, in a café, at dinner, and all and any inappropriate places for absolutely no reason. And in my mind she’s listening to me and nodding and understanding. and she's saying... "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.I had no idea, i never think of anyone but myself, but you have shown me the light."... "It’s okay."... I say like I'm some sort of saint or demon or guru who has giving her this gift of empathy. So I put her back on the floor and then we hug or some shit and everyone in the train is teary eyed. And we all start singing Cat Stevens ’Freedom train." And we join hands and we are all one community of people, just people, different people, the same people, flawed people, pissed people, happy people, distracted people, dying people, living people and we all understand this and accept this. But of course this isn't’t happening. This would never happen. The mans armpit it still inches from my face. The baby in the stroller is crying. The baby's mother is ignoring her. And the woman who I have forgiven and who had forgiven me is telling me I’m a fucking cunt. And I’m saying... "I’m sorry."...  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: neither here nor there <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-22T18:48:55-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/283039616.html I will apologize because I don't feel like going to jail. text TO THE WOMAN WHO IS BLOWING MY BOSS http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/252116018.html Don't call and immediately ask "Who is this?" Who am I? I'm the same receptionist who has answered the phone the past 8 times you've tried to reach him. Who are YOU? You're the one who is calling me. Say your name, why you are calling and if you're polite, I may transfer you. If I feel like it. Don't say that I don't need to know why you're calling. By now you should have realized that he will only answer the phone if he knows who is calling and the reason why they are calling. If he doesn't feel like dealing with you at that particularly moment, get over it. Don't call "to talk." I know you're friends are impressed that you're giving sloppy blowjobs to a 40-something executive a few days per week, but he can't be at your beck and call 24/7. There's the 11:00 meeting. Then lunch. Then the 2:00 meeting. Then a meeting at 4:00 to tell them other executives what happened at the 11:00 and 2:00 meetings. If he doesn't even have time to yell at me for hanging up on you (which you swore he would), then he doesn't have time to talk. Don't pester me as to why he didn't return your 2:30 phone call. It's probably because he knows you'll call again at 3:30. And he won't return that call either. Don't make small talk. "How are you?" "How is your day going?" Receptionists hate this shit. You're the 159th person who has called the office today. How am I? I'm annoyed that I had to pick up the phone 159 times only to hear people grumble about how so-and-so hasn't returned their phone calls or e-mails. Get in line. Your message is number 31 on his voicemail. Also, I really don't care how your day is going. Don't try to be my friend. There is nothing a receptionist detests more than someone with verbal diarrhea. "Does he still love me? We haven't had sex in a week. Is anyone else calling his office besides me? Is he going to buy my flowers? Does he talk to you about me? What does he say?" Shut the fuck up. The only thing I'm thinking about is when I can go on break because I've had to pee for the past 10 minutes. When you ramble I don't listen to a single world you say. Don't give me your phone number and ask him to call you. I have caller ID. I know your work, house, cell phone numbers and when I see them on the caller ID, I simply groan, "I hate it when this idiot calls."  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-12-21T15:23:13-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/252116018.html TO THE WOMAN WHO IS BLOWING MY BOSS text To My 83rd St. Neighbor: It's REALLY Not What You Think! - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/236978038.html To my 5th floor flirt: It's time we cleared the air. I need to be honest with you, because you probably have the wrong idea. This really isn't what you think. 1) I'M NOT REALLY A SLUT. Look, we usually run each other once every few months. It's not either of our faults that every single time it seems like I'm with a different guy. But you have to believe me when I tell you that EVERY SINGLE TIME it is either my brother or the exterminator or a colleague who has stopped by briefly to pick up a folder I accidentally brought home. I promise, I'M NOT REALLY A SLUT. 2) I'M NOT REALLY A FUTURE DIABETIC. So you caught me with no fewer than 3 Slurpees in a drink carrier the other night. So what?! 2 of them were sugar-free, for your information. And besides, I don't lack self-control, just decision-making skills. You really must believe me when I say, I'M NOT REALLY A FUTURE DIABETIC. 3) I'M NOT REALLY ABLE TO CARRY MY LAUNDRY UP FOUR FLIGHTS OF STAIRS. You asked me the other night if I needed help with my laundry. I was drenched from the rain and my hands were full. Nevertheless, I put on my bravest face and said, "No, I'm fine!" After we checked our mail, you asked again, and I continued to deny needing help. We trudged up the stairs, you flashing your most adorable smile, and you asked one last time: "Are you sure you don't want some help with that?" Now, this time when I responded in the negative, you should have done the manly thing and just TAKEN MY LAUNDRY because it didn't hit me until I walked in my door and screamed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" at the top of my lungs that you were just angling for some nookie. And besides, I'M NOT REALLY ABLE TO CARRY MY LAUNDRY UP FOUR FLIGHTS OF STAIRS. 4) I'M NOT REALLY A GAMBLER. The other day, I was feeling pretty down on my luck. So I stumbled to the nearest 7-11, and, figuring my luck couldn't really GET any worse, I bought $50 worth of scratchers (in addition to the 3 Slurpees). Indeed, I won my $50 back, but not before you shot me an alarmed look as we crossed paths on the stoop - lottery tickets spilling out of the pockets of my trench coat. Please just hear me out, I'M NOT REALLY A GAMBLER. 5) I'M NOT REALLY HANGING OUT WITH HOMELESS PEOPLE. On that same fateful voyage to 7-11, I ran into one of my girl friends, and she decided that we needed something cheap-and-dirty to cheer us up. Thumbing our noses at top-shelf mags and Black-&-Mild's, we settled on two 40-ounce bottles of a beer I'd really rather NOT name. Despite the fact that she looked a little ragged and crazy with a brown paper bag clutched in each grubby paw, there was no need to sniff your nose at us, because in any event it'd be charity work, but I'M NOT REALLY HANGING OUT WITH HOMELESS PEOPLE. 6) I'M NOT REALLY WORRIED THAT I HAVE A GAS LEAK. This is just a plan I have hatched under the general category, "Reasons I Might Pull A Damsel-In-Distress On Your Doormat Tomorrow". If you open the door one day and I'm jabbering about this, just know that I'm only trying to rectify the fact that we've missed out on 20+ golden opportunities to get it on, and so I'M NOT REALLY WORRIED THAT I HAVE A GAS LEAK. 7) I'M NOT REALLY TOO SHORT TO CHANGE THE LIGHT BULB IN MY BEDROOM. The last guy you saw with me got punched in the gut for ruining my game. That was my colleague. I told him about this problem we're having, where you're getting all the wrong ideas about me. He felt bad, and so he hatched an evil plan to lure you into my dark bedroom. First, I'd remove the bulb from my bedroom fixture. Then, I'd shake the filament out. Next, I'd screw it back into its socket. Then, I'd flip the switch and burn the bulb. Finally, I'd get you from upstairs and hopefully I'd be the next thing screwed in my dark bedroom. But you should know this would not be a coincidence, and that I really want you, because I'M NOT REALLY TOO SHORT TO CHANGE THE LIGHT BULB IN MY BEDROOM. 8) I'M KIND OF A 'HO. Yeah, I know I said that I'm not really a slut (supra, paragraph 1). But that doesn't mean I'm not kind of a 'ho. Between you and me, I'd love to get it on with you. You've been giving me the hottest bedroom eyes ever since I moved here, and it's time we put those eyes where they belong... but if you don't hurry up and move in on this, you'll never truly know that I'M KIND OF A 'HO. In one short week, it will be too late for us to live this extremely hot dream, because I'm about to be drawn into a relationship. If you have a friend living on the right floor of a building on the right street, pass this along to them. Come on, let's go. With warm regards, Your 4th Floor Friend   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-11-19T01:30:23-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/236978038.html To My 83rd St. Neighbor: It's REALLY Not What You Think! - w4m text I see penises. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/236005196.html I see penises. Or is it peni? I’m the type of girl that only sees one at a time. But in the past few months, the penises have been coming out of the woodwork. Penis #1 was on Henry Street in Brooklyn Heights in the middle of July. It was quiet and I was listening to ‘Mastering the Irish Accent for Actors’ on my mp3 player. I try not to say the practice words out loud, but sometimes I catch someone looking at me and realize I am making funny shapes and probably funny sounds with my mouth. As I practice my diphthongs ‘mine, time, fine, Michael…’ a well dressed man in his 50’s is walking toward me. His hands moving in a strange way that catch my eye. He pulls them away to reveal unbuttoned pants with his penis hanging out. I look up and he is staring at me with a deadpan face, eye contact and everything. Penises #’s 2&3 happened just a week later. I had moved on to Irish sentences and found myself walking up Second Avenue at noon saying “My father likes his food and he likes his drink.” and “Father O’Flanagan, was there fightin’ at the wake?” When a young guy who clearly likes the pint came stumbling arse over elbow out of a bar half walking and half peeing. That’s right; the lad had his willy out and was peeing while looking around trying to get his bearings in the noon sunlight. Later that day, a little less dramatic, a man in Time Square had an umbrella open despite the clear sky that he held at waist level. As women walked by, he would lift the umbrella up to cover his face and reveal his langer hanging out of his open trousers. Penis # 4 was a man on a bench in Washing ton Square Park. He was whacking off as I passed saying “Me Ma was a decent ole soul, God rest her.” along with the old Irish woman on my mp3. The school year had just started and the weather was changing -- I had felt the new energy in the air, but it hadn’t occurred to me to masturbate in public about it especially with me Ma and her decent ole soul. Penis #5 was another strung out walking pisser in my Little Italy neighborhood. Are these men so busy that they can’t stop for two bits to take a whiz? Blimey, I can’t help but think of Father O’Flanagan and how he would not approve. While the fall has been unseasonably warm, I have faith that it will soon be too cold for the penises to come out. I have never been so happy to see Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving. Christmas = snow = layers of clothes = no penises. I certainly hope so anyway as all these blooming wankers are beginnin’ to drive me to the drink meself.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-11-16T23:21:47-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/236005196.html I see penises. text I'm your Assistant, Not an Ass http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/220062372.html Ok guys, I realize that I am your assistant, but if this relationship is going to work, I will need your full cooperation. 1. I love all of you, I admire your dedication to your work and I understand that you all have PhDs and deserve respect, however, I deserve respect too. Having the copy machine jam while I’m making you 400 copies does not make me stupid. It does however create a nuisance for me to have to disassemble the machine to find that a crumpled copy of a crossword puzzle that you were doing earlier has been lodged in the rollers. 2. I am not a pitiful beauty school dropout. I too have a degree and spent 3 years previous to meeting you lovely folks as a journalist. I am very educated, well read, articulate, and resourceful. I assure you that the baby talk is not necessary when asking me mail a letter for you. 3. I am here to help you, I even enjoy helping you, but I will not put a roll of tape on the dispenser for you. Don’t tell me that you don’t know how, I know you do. I mean seriously, you have a Nobel Prize—work it out. 4. Yes my background is in journalism and my grasp on the English language is perhaps a little better than most, but I do not know every word in the dictionary. So please, do not taunt me when I can’t immediately come up with a synonym for “dowsing”. I’m sure eight years of post-secondary education have exposed you to a thesaurus. 5. I apologize that I forgot to send your fax, but keep in mind that I have five of you asking me to put tape on the dispenser, not to mention real responsibilities like calling the help desk to fix your computer after you downloaded copious amounts of pictures of large-breasted women. I understand you have needs, after all, I’m a man too, but please download porn on your home computer. By the way, I will no longer sit on any of the chairs in your office. 6. When I am away from my desk, I assure you that I will not be gone for long. There is no problem that I can think of that is so urgent that it must be addressed while I am in midstream at the urinal. The two of us should never have a conversation where a penis is exposed. 7. Being your assistant does not make me a woman, it makes me an assistant. I can not give you fashion advice and will not help you pick out a tie, although I would seriously rethink wearing a brown belt with black shoes. This brings me to my next point. 8. Yes I am gay, but I am not an assistant because I am gay. I am an assistant because I needed a job and you pay me reasonably well. I do appreciate the fact that you care enough to ask about my boyfriend, but it is not funny to ask me how the wife is. Okay, you got me there it is funny, but it is still unprofessional and offensive. 9. What makes you think that it is okay for you to ask me for a loan? You make six times what I do and I do not care if you really need a latte. I really need a blowjob, but there are appropriate people to ask for certain items. Don’t ask me for $2.50 and I won’t ask you do get on your knees. 10. For Christ’s sake, learn my name. Calling me any name that starts with the same letter as my own is not “good enough”. I realize that I may remind you of another person in the office, but believe it or not, we are two entirely different people. Look, as far as I am concerned, the five of you are all just balding, fat, middle-aged men, but amazingly enough, I manage to tell you apart—if by nothing else, the pattern of your pit stains.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around You Know Who You Are <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-10-13T12:38:41-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/220062372.html I'm your Assistant, Not an Ass text A memo to all NYC subway commuters http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/209330858.html Dearest NY commuters: First of all, we’re all in the same boat. We’re all going to work too early, for too little pay, to jobs that don’t matter. All of us deserve a seat as much as the next guy. This being said, sometimes, the chips don’t fall in your favor and the seating is limited. I know this happens to me many a morning. Therefore, whence you walk, saunter, stumble, crawl, or rush tackle into the subway car, take a moment to look at your options in seating. Take a few seconds to internalize the situation and decide your best plan of action. However, please take no more than 3 seconds to do this as the people waiting behind you will, given the opportunity, kill you with sticks. Now, when you are forced with the choice between standing for awhile or taking the seat betwixt two people who are already seated, drinking their coffee, and happily reading their papers, take a moment to consider your body mass. If you are of larger proportions than the general human, try to be honest about the direct ratio of seat space to your posterior. We’ve all taken high school physics. No one is fooling Archimedes here. If you are past rubenesque and/or husky and are heading dangerously towards rotund, elephantine, corpulent, or are just flat out the size of a small car, do NOT force your corpus into a space meant for a normal size person and, in turn, squash the bodies of the people who were seated before you, thus rendering them unable to partake in the normal human functions of basic movement. If you decide that you must be rude anyway, do not figure that since your derriere has managed to not smother your fellow commuters, the girth of your shoulders pushed all the way back in the seat must not be too much more of a hinderance. It is, they are, and it’s dreadfully uncomfortable. Go ahead and realize that you should be the one to lean forward the whole trip in order to provide oxygen to all parties…not the other way around. If one determines that the subway car is indeed not air conditioned that day, all aforementioned exceptions are null and void and you shall not, under any circumstances, devour the other passengers with your gigantism. I would never assume that sitting in your lap on the subway was an option if you were the first to obtain a seat. Therefore, I expect the same courtesy when your lap, frankly, spreads out to the point of spooning with the laps of the unwilling patrons of the subway. To sum up, DON”T SQUASH ME, MY COFFEE, MY PAPER AND MY SOUL AGAINST THE FILTHY WINDOW OF AN UNAIRCONDITIONED SUBWAY POD TO HELL WITH YOUR FUCKING GIGANTIC DONKEY RUMP. ASSHOLE. Thank you and good morning   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-09-19T10:38:03-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/209330858.html A memo to all NYC subway commuters text *******Brokers: MUST READ********* http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/205959221.html Dear Brokers: 1) A bedroom by any other name..... Just tell me how many goddamn bedrooms there are in the apartment. Perhaps the very definition of bedroom is in question so let's get down to brass tacks. A bedroom, I think we can all agree, is a space large enough to fit a bed. To be called a bedroom in an ad, it must be a room with a door that separates it from all the other rooms. It must not contain the front door to the apartment. Any room that does not meet these three criteria is not a bedroom. When it comes to bedrooms, please do not round up to the nearest number. A two bedroom with a strange space between the kitchen and the living room is not a three bedroom. 2) I know how many bedrooms I need If I am in the market for a three-bedroom, don't show me two-bedrooms. One of my roommates is not going to evaporate into thin air just because the apartment has really great light or high ceilings. If we are in the market for a $3000 three-bedroom, a $3000 two-bedroom is not just as good. It is 1.5 times too expensive for two of us, and pretty much useless for the third. 3) Albany, NY is not on the Upper East Side. Let's talk about neighborhoods. Perhaps you are hoping to prey on the uninitiated, but your number is up. You can't play that "Upper East Side/Upper West Side" game with us! We all know that 119th St. and 2nd Ave. is different than 79th St. and 2nd Ave. Same goes for the West Side. 181st and Broadway--not the same as 81st and Broadway. Some of us want to live at each of these four addresses, so why not save us all time and call a spade a spade? Even if you happen to lure an unsuspecting newcomer with promises of "The Upper East Side," what happens when they get off the 6 at 110th St. to come see the place? Will you blindfold them and lead them to the "Fabulous Upper East Side Steal--Must See"? 4) Pictures of New York landmarks will not interest me in an apartment. I know that New York City contains BOTH Central Park and the Empire State Building. I know it is an exciting city that looks great at night. I mean, for Chrissakes, I live here! When I see the little orange "pic" next to a listing, what I want to see is a picture of....the apartment. Today I opened up just such an ad to find....a picture of the castle in Central Park. Is there an apartment in there for rent? Please, for the love of all that is good, tell me: What were you thinking?! And while we're at it: 5) Hallways are not enticing. Neither are bathrooms. A single picture of a really long hallway is NOT going to make me drop everything and ride the train to its farthest stop. Dark hallways--even worse. Long hallways say: the rooms in this apartment are small and poorly laid-out. Then there are the ads with a single picture of the bathroom. Bathroom pictures say: this apartment is so ugly, the bathroom is the only room I felt I could publicly post. Do you know anyone who moved into a shithole because the bathroom fixtures were newly installed? Ok. No hallways. No bathrooms. Finally: 6) &&&&&&&& <<<<<<< ******* >>>>>>>> %%%%%%%% Get it? Wait, you don't understand? That's because these characters do not transmit information. Why do you waste your title field with them? Actually, they do transmit information. They say: This broker is not smart or classy. All I'm asking for, really, is: Price. Number of bedrooms. Accurate neighborhood listing and/or subway stop that is nearest by foot or (shudder) bus. What it comes down to is: We know what we want. We know what we need. We're not idiots. Just show us apartments and take our 10%, 15%, even 17% brokers fees with a graceful smile. Please. Thanks!   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Upper East Side <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-09-11T17:27:06-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/205959221.html *******Brokers: MUST READ********* text Boyfriend with AC needed - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/188591432.html I am looking for a moderately attractive man between the ages of 18 and 40 who has air conditioning in his bedroom. As the temperature is slated to reach in the 100s this week, my need for a boyfriend with air conditioning is especially pertinent. This arrangement is intended for the month of August, however, an indian summer may extend our relationship. If all goes well, I could offer warmth in the winter. P.S. No fatties.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Park Slope <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-31T18:40:47-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/188591432.html Boyfriend with AC needed - w4m text Re: SBF - Why Is It Difficult!!!!! - w4m - 36 - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/185232520.html Dear SBF, You posed the following riddle to the sages who frequent CL's "Casual Encounters" board: "Ugh! I have been looking for a really sexy, sensual, attractive man with a "high" libido to have sex on a regular basis. Why is this "so" difficult? Basically, all you need to be single (not married), tall, attractive, CLEAN, well endowed (8" - 9 ")w/a strong gift of knowing how to give pleasure to a woman. Also, be someone who I can have a conversation and drink with outside of the bedroom because if I am bored >>>> I am going home!!! I am single(no attachments), attractive, 5"8 1/2, great smile. I have some meat on bones, curvy, sexy and sensual. D*D free and would like to stay that way!! READ THIS >>>>>I am not interested in 1 liners, married man or emails with pix and no name and vice versa. Basically, tell me "a little" about yourself and what you expect." I think I can answer your question...no, I KNOW I can answer your question. Let's start with geography. You're in NY which has a population in the Greater Metro area of about 13 million. Slightly more than half of these are women and, since you're looking for a man, that gives you a pool of about 6 million males. One of the few things you don't specify is age, so I'll generously assume an age range of beween 18 and 50. Taking a rough guess, let's say that drops your pool of males down to about 3 million. I think it's safe to say that the majority of the 18-30 year old men are still so shallow as to prefer women their own age or younger and some proportion of the 40-50 year old men are going through a mid-life crisis and are fantasizing about women only slightly older than their daughters. Let's say this reduces you to a pool of about 1.5 million. 1.5 million is still a heck of a big selection pool but once you remove those men who, because of bigotry or their own sexual fantasies, prefer non-black ladies (their loss in my opinion and more for the rest of us), then I think we can safely say we're down to about a million guys. The next step is availability. Many, indeed most, will already be in relationships. They're either married, engaged, monogamously involved or, in the case of three to five percent of them, gay. It would be generous to assume that this did not apply to at least 60% of the remaining million. Now, we're down to 400,000 men in the greater NYC area from which to choose. By the way, this is assuming that every single one of these men is net savvy and knows about CL. This brings us to your criteria. Let's take them one at a time. I'll wrap "sexy, sensual, attractive" up as a single requirement. Considering that these 400,000 men are still available, I'd guess that a smaller percentage than normal could be called "sexy" or "attractive". Women are nearly always more particular about this than men (we are scarcely better than dogs), so I believe it would not be to draconian to let 300,000 of these lads off the hook. We're now down to 100,000 single men in NYC who might be attracted to you and who you might consider attractive. Your next differentiating requirement is "tall". This is to women what boobs are to men or the phrase "must be slim". Since height is distributed along a bell curve and the average American male is now 5'10", you've just eliminated at least 60, probably 75%, of your dating pool. I'm going with 75% because my experience is that 6ft is some sort of holy number for some women and less than 25% of men are over 6ft. You're now down to 25,000 candidates in all of NYC...getting a little nervous? Here we get to my favorite useless criteria.."well-endowed". You even specify the number of inches (8-9). Again, we go back to the numbers and the average American male gets the job done (or,perhaps not done, I suppose) with the regulation issue 6" penis. I have one of those and it's been a workhorse beyond compare for these past 45 years. But no, you're special and you need more...much more. I took gym for many years and can assure you that the number of men, even when height is taken into consideration, who reach the penis length you require is a very small proportion of the population. Since the current 25,000 member pool is already made up of very tall men, let's assume that there's double the number of well-endowed males. Let's say 20 rather than 10%. You're now down to 5,000 men in all of NYC. You also asked for a CLEAN man in caps so I'll assume this is important. Not sure what you mean here (clean of disease, clean shirts, clean apartment), but knowing men, no more than half of these chaps will fit a scrupulous women's definition of cleanliness. Just the statistical probability of herpes alone should eliminate about half these guys. We're now down to 2,500 dudes for you. You have two remaining criteria, however, which bodes more ill for your prospects. Turns out you want a man with the "gift of knowing how to give pleasure to a woman". I won't even elaborate on this, but suffice it to say that by it's very definition of being a "gift", no more than 1 in ten men should posess it. 250 men and dropping. Your last demand is that the lucky joe who gets the incomparable pleasure of bedding your rare soul must be capable of "conversation" in such a manner as to prevent your boredom. Given that you're a woman who needs tall, sexy men with 9" dicks and a "gift" for pleasure, I suspect you're easily bored. Shall we say 10%??? 25 brave lads left to go nobly into that breach. Finally, we hear a little about you. Not much in the way of detail, no word of your "gifts", but you do tell us that you are "curvy" with some meat on your bones. This is CL speak for anything from a little chubby to obese. Nothing wrong with this mind you, nothing wrong at all. Personally, I prefer a woman built for comfort rather than speed. You must be cognizant, however, that these handsome, tall, articulate,well-endowed and sexually gifted men will probably already have their pick of a wide variety of, shall we say, more glamorous women? Women whose curves more nearly resemble those seen in Playboy and Maxim. Nonetheless, I think it's reasonable that 4 or 5 of these fellas would prefer a beefy girl like you to the anorexic waifs we see in fashion magazines. 5 guys in NYC. 5. That's FIVE. Though no longer single, I once was and though I met some of your criteria (attractive, articulate, sexy, "gift for pleasure"), I did not meet many of your other criteria (well-endowed and tall). Nonetheless, I had a nearly inexhaustible selection of wonderful, attractive, sexy, strong and intelligent women to choose from. Even had I the inclination to go onto CL, I was too busy dating and having sex to bother. Do you think your five Knights will be even more inclined? I doubt it. Now you know. Not such a mystery any more is it?  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around reality <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-23T09:05:38-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/185232520.html Re: SBF - Why Is It Difficult!!!!! - w4m - 36 - m4w text Dear Dear Transvestite Sitting On My Stoop, - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/179331455.html Dear Transvestite Sitting On My Stoop, It was so nice to see you last night! To see a warm smiling, deer-in-the-headlights face looking up at me from my one step stoop as I staggered back to my building after an exhausting day of doctor's appointments and other various emotionally draining activities was simply a pure joy. And then! You gave me the gift that I never could have hoped to receive! From beneath your oh-so-fashionable mini jean skirt, what did I see? Oh! Could that be?? Your penis?!?! Why, yes, yes it was! Oh, and were you sitting on my step, my lucky lucky step and using it as a toilet? YOU WERE! How wonderful! My, you really did have to go, didn't you? You just couldn't stop yourself could you? I mean, really, I understand, I often feel the need to sit in the middle of one of the busiest streets in the whole fucking city and use it for my own toilet. I regularly just sit down whenever the mood strikes and let 'er rip. I can understand that a trash can or sewer wasn't good enough, really. And I know that even though the Hudson River is just a few hundred feet away, my stoop was obviously the MOST perfect place for you to take that 5 minute leak. Yes, I understand, you couldn't risk your oh-so-fashionable outfit getting mussed in any way by walking down to the water, or anyplace that wasn't my stoop, really. I can't blame you, it is engineered just perfectly to double as a toilet. Maybe I'll try it some time myself. Thanks for the idea! I hope you don't mind! And while I'm at it, Transvestite Sitting On My Stoop, I'd like to thank you for whispering to me about how you have a weak bladder as I was trying to desperately to get into my building without stepping into the huge puddle of piss growing at my feet, and simultaneously begging me for five dollars and pleading with me not to call the cops. Your dulcet tones so close to my ear, well, they sent shivers down my spine. It was an expereince unlike any other I've had yet living in this city. And also, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for showing me your penis so completely, it's all I see when I close my eyes now, with its full stream of urine falling like a little sterile waterfall upon the sidewalk, I surely will be having dreams about it for weeks. Thank you so much, Transvestite Sitting On My Stoop, really, I hope we meet again soon. With all my love and devotion, Em.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around West Village <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-07T11:11:38-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/179331455.html Dear Dear Transvestite Sitting On My Stoop, - w4m text Thank You, Tall Queen http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/178684166.html To the tall queen seated in Section 228, Row D, Seat 17: I just want to thank you. You, the tall queen seated directly in front of us at Madonna's sold-out concert at Madison Square Garden on Monday night. You, the tall queen with the fauxhawk, the popped collar, the capri pants and flip-flops. You, the spastic tall queen who flailed arythmically and screamed approximately 1500 times during the concert. I mean, most people would think that for $170 a pop, we in Section 228 would be more than happy with just seeing Madonna's onstage carnival: her part Cirque du Soleil, part roller-disco, part strip-club melange of krumping, parkour, strobing video montages, and numerous half-naked muscle boys. But not you, Tall Queen. No, you decided that we in Section 228 deserved a special show of your own, fueled by (by our count) about 8 glasses of white wine and spurred on by the approval of your much younger Latino date. So for the 100 times you screamed before the house lights even went down? Thank you. For calling out to your friends on the other side of the arena and jumping up and down and screaming because they could actually SEE YOU from 300 feet away? Thank you. That was totally awesome that they could see you from over there! Hey Tall Queen, do you remember that sort of elderly obese man that was seated to your left? The one wearing the red string on his wrist? My friend and I had named him Mr. Pinky. You know, from Hairspray? Mr. Pinky didn't really seem to be happy to be at Madonna, I mean, he hardly even stood up! What's up with that? Maybe the temple made him attend? Anyway, on behalf of Mr. Pinky, thank you, Tall Queen, for providing him with an upclose and graphic look at homo-lovin'. Straddling your date in his seat in a reverse cowgirl and humping him? That was awesome! Licking your date all over his face and screaming into his open mouth? Also awesome. And thank you, Tall Queen, for calling everybody in your cellphone directory and screaming "AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" to them. I bet they loved that. You know they were jealous bitches because you were at Madonna and they weren't. I was so jealous myself, because you must have at least 200 friends in your directory! We didn't mind at all, your screaming when Madonna was talking. Or your screaming when she was singing. Or your screaming continuously during those curious long periods in which she wasn't even on the stage. Seriously, that was awesome. We didn't mind not hearing her. Hey, did you know that you screamed exactly 49 times during the 6 minutes of La Isla Bonita? For real! We were counting! By the way, we decided that La Isla Bonita must have been Mr. Pinky's favorite song. He was totally snapping his fingers! But at least Mr. Pinky could keep the beat! Seriously, Tall Queen, as awesome as I'm sure you know that you are, you really do need to look into something called "keeping the beat". Did you know that all those thousands of times you were clapping your hands over your head (while screaming, of course) that you never once clapped on the beat? Although, come to think of it.... statisically speaking, you should have accidentally clapped on the beat at least once or twice every minute. Ok, yeah, forget I said anything. I've lost my mind. All that bad rhythm? Definitely awesome! By the way, Tall Queen? Did you like that video montage where they intercut photos of famous dictators? Idi Amin, Kim Jong-Il, Adolf Hitler and then George Bush? And then when Madonna ad-libbed during I Love New York that "If you don't like New York, you can suck George Bush' dick"? I figured you liked that because that's when you turned around and grabbed your crotch and screamed "SUCK MY DICK!" Which was awesome. Tall Queen, I hope that all six or seven times that Madonna berated the crowd for having low energy, you KNOW she wasn't talking about you, right? Like when she said, "You are some tired motherfucking assholes!", she totally did not mean you. I hope you don't mind that I stepped up into the aisle to take a picture of you. I waited until you had your hands down and were between screams, because we wanted to remember you. I mean, since your screaming and flailing and bad dancing and boyfriend-macking were far more a part of our experience than anything Madonna and her dozen dancers were doing. So thank you, Tall Queen. Madonna: Good. But YOU? Awesome!  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-05T16:21:54-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/178684166.html Thank You, Tall Queen text WHAT IS A POO DOG ??? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/177873834.html Please note: I have NOTHING against crossbred dogs. I own one myself. What I am opposed to is the intentional breeding of crosses and selling them to the general public who may not be as educated to things like this for the SOLE purpose of making money. People will take two breeds, cross them and call them a new breed when in actuality, it is not. It takes a LONG time and lots of work to create a strain of dogs that breeds true to type when bred to another of that type (a purebred). Sadly, there are several registries that are given false credibility to those who want to basically scam the general public and use dogs to make a living. The most common of the crosses sold as purebred are the Poo-dogs (anything crossed with poodles).Cock-a-poos, Snoodles, Sheltipoos, Labradoodles, Maltipoos, Shihpoos, Pooshihs, Bassadoodles, Shihchons, The list goes on... What is a "Poo dog?" Simple, any dog crossed with a poodle and given a funky name they also fall under the heading "Designer Mutt." What is a designer mutt? Any crossbred dogs being sold as if it were purebred or something special. The sole purpose is to sell puppies to the unsuspecting and undereducated buyer. It is not uncommon to find outrageous price tags in the range of $1000 - $2000 on some designer mutts. Whether the puppy is from a mill or from a person just breeding them for the heck of it, there are many sad myths and misconceptions of these dogs. Some people state they are trying to create the "ideal dog for..." However, with over 400 recognized breeds woldwide, there is pretty much a breed for every activity. One argument Designer Mutt Breeders use is that they are breeding for companion dogs. Honestly, there are hundreds of breeds, common and rare, bred solely for companionship. Is there a need to breed more crosses basically just to make money? No. A good breeder of "companion" breeds will place their pet puppies with the same care and concern for health as the pups they intend to use for show and future breeding. Fewer "show" breeders are in this for the money. They are in breeding for the love and betterment of the breed in form, function and health. A good breeder is lucky to break even with breeding and may even lose money on a litter when all is said and done. Let's get a few things cleared up before going to the "heavy stuff." 1) These are NOT breeds. No matter what anyone says, they are CROSSES, MUTTS, MONGRELS - whatever name you decide to call them. It take many, many generations of careful breeding to develop a strain that breeds true when bred to another of its type and then more work to prove it is a pure breeding type and may be able to be recognized by a legitimate registry as a breed. Every time you add in a new dog to the mix that is not of the strain you are trying to develop, you set back that breeding program and have to work out the undesired traits brought in while trying to maintain the desired traits established.. Simply, three, four or even five generations of breeding say a Sheltiepoo to other Sheltiepoos without bringing in any other pure Shelties or Poodles will NOT create a new breed. It may take decades of dedicated breeding to even get a strain to breed true to desired type. 2) They are NOT hypoallergenic. No dog is. There are many proteins associated with a dog that we can be allergic to. Yes, some dogs that shed less may cause fewer problems in some people, but if the allergy is severe enough, ANY dog will cause a reaction. 3) They are not noshed. All dogs loose hair to some extent. Some breeds like Poodles are lower shed than others. But with lower shedding comes other grooming issues as well. 4) There is NO SUCH THING AS HYBRID VIGOR IN DOGS. Dogs are all the same species and a crossbred is at no less risk of health issues than a purebred. Many health issues are found in many breeds. Hip Dysplasia, for example, is found in just about every breed of dog - large or small. In the OFA database is a Cockapoo listed with a hip rating of FAIR. This rating is on the LOW end of the acceptable ratings. Below is the text from the OFA database in regards to what a FAIR rating is: "Fair (Figure 3): Assigned where minor irregularities in the hip joint exist. The hip joint is wider than a good hip phenotype. This is due to the ball slightly slipping out of the socket causing a minor degree of joint incongruency. There may also be slight inward deviation of the weight-bearing surface of the socket (dorsal acetabular rim) causing the socket to appear slightly shallow (Figure 4)." (from <a href="http://www.offa.org/hipgrade.html">http://www.offa.org/hipgrade.html</a>) The following are random notes I threw together when I was confronted on-line by someone insisting Cock-a-poos were a breed. With the exception of the information specific to the cross, the general information holds true for any breed crossed with Poodle - it is NOT a breed no matter what anyone says! And further, the same concept holds true for ANY designer mutt. <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f282/t_zane/index_title.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting"></a>   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around DESIGNER MUTTS <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-03T00:12:13-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/177873834.html WHAT IS A POO DOG ??? text M.C. with a boyfriend...or someone to kill a cockroach. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/168607157.html Don't get me wrong. Casual dating is great right now. It is SPRING. And fortunately, I have a few chill friends I can do the drunk/sex/brunch thing with and happily not see for a few weeks while meeting new people stress-free. So I'm all set for now, right? Wrong. Very, very wrong. Relaxing in my apartment a couple nights back and look up to spot what I can only assume is a mouse - which I can totally handle, heck even co-habitate with. And what else could be an inch and a half long and at least an inch tall with visable legs? I'll tell you what: The LARGEST FUCKING COCKROACH I have ever seen in my entire life. And trust...this is New York City...we have all seen/killed a lot of roaches. I tried to catch it under a bowl but only nipped it mid-section. I thought it was dead (ha!) but, when I moved the bowl it bolted under my very low-to-the-ground-crammed-with-random-crap bed. UNDER MY FUCKING BED. GREAT. I thought I was going to have to stay with friends. I thought I was going to have to fucking move out. But then it emerged. It was so god damn big I HEARD it scuttle out and caught it. (Yes, I screamed like a little girl.) Good, right? So now what? I have a mouse-sized cockroach under a pyrex salad bowl in the middle of my studio floor and we are on day three. I can't ask a booty-call to handle this...totally not part of the job description. I called a male friend to help and he told me to let it starve. Starve?!? It's a fucking roach, a monster roach, a 900 year-old SUPER ROACH. This is not something you can squish with a paper towel. I don't even think you could step on it...ugh. In fact, I'm a little worried it might lift the bowl while I'm at work. This bitch needs to be slammed with a rubber mallet. So...for the first time in a year I totally miss having a boyfriend. Fuck the drama, late-night jealous "where are you" calls, and panic attacks my last one gave me. I need a dude willing to drop everything to come over and kill that fucking roach. For that matter, I also need a boyfriend to fix an electrical outlet on an old lamp, and fine-tune a stereo problem I am having. Crap, this sucks.  <img src=168607157.jpg>  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-06T12:58:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/168607157.html M.C. with a boyfriend...or someone to kill a cockroach. text Cheap place for extreme cat lovers - 73rd and 3rd http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/167388724.html I am a cat nutritionist offering a room in an apartment with a GREAT location (7rd and 3rd) for a very cheap price. $400/month for june, july, august. I am an extreme cat lover and have a total of 17 cats in a small apartment. I am not going to lie, you must be an extreme cat lover if you want to rent this place for the summer. The room I am offering up for rent is a room for my cats. I am not going to lie, there is cat litter and droppings all over the room as I have not cleaned it since the middle of January. There is a twin bed on it which about 5 cats sleep in. You are welcome to share it with them, but you must NOT disturb them, as it is their place before yours. You are welcome to clean up some of the droppings, but you must leave most of the cat litter in place in the room, as there will not be much more room in the house for the cats to do their business otherwise. I am not going to lie, sometimes I wake up and have cat litter all over my body, but studies show that it is extremely sterile and will not cause you any sickness if you bathe daily and keep clean. If interested, please send me an email explaining your situation, and writing a short blurb (essay, history, poem, whatever) about your love of cats. I reserve the right to revoke your room (with a refund) at any time if I feel that my cats are more depressed or are not enjoying your company.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> yes -- cats are OK - purrr <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-02T18:54:59-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/167388724.html Cheap place for extreme cat lovers - 73rd and 3rd text Dear Pigeons Eating Puke on the Sidewalk http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/166854073.html OK, look. Living in NY gives you a pretty thick skin. I've seen some pretty nasty stuff. I'm not a queasy person. But as I'm strolling to work this morning I accidentally look to my right to see a big puddle of puke and you two bastards hopping around in it like two fatties at an all you can eat buffet. It took me a moment to register what I was looking at. And I wish, I WISH, I could go back in time and erase the details my brain unfortunately absorbed. This was nasty, nasty puke. And fresh. Food bits undigested. I noted some peas and carrots in there. But it was not only food. There was an oatmeal like ooze that the bits were floating in. And with this heat, no odor escapes a passerby. As if the puke weren't enough to turn my stomach, you motherfucking pigeons sealed the deal. In the 4 brief seconds I happened to look at you I witnessed you pick out the pukey food bits and ingest them with imcomparable eagerness. Then it happened. The horror of what I just saw registered. The smell of it registered. Mouth watered. Ears tingled. Throat clenched. I fucking puked on the street! In front of people! At 8:30 in the morning. ON myself! Do you know how humiliating that is???? I'm at work with fucking puke on me because when you suddenly projectile vommit on the street you don't think to aim! I had to lie about taking a taxi and getting motion sickness. And let me tell you pigeons something. YOU are going to pay the dry cleaning bill to get the stomach acid and latte off of my silk blouse! Oh, and stay the hell out of MY puke! Rotten birds.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-01T11:31:54-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/166854073.html Dear Pigeons Eating Puke on the Sidewalk text Dear CATS: You make it impossible to love you!!!! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/161676427.html I have owned cats my entire life, but you two are in a class all your own. I adopted you and so I will never abandon you, but why must you make it so hard for me to enjoy your existence? Cat #1. Fatty McRetard. You came to me as a three week old sick kitten found under a staircase. My vet friend brought you to me, knowing that I wouldn't say no. and so you were mine. But now that you are an adult, you have confirmed what we always suspected. You're an inbred cat mutant. You have an excessive shedding problem. I can't touch you without getting covered in hair and my apartment is a dustball despite the daily use of the vacuum. You teeth fell out at 6 months and now I have to make a wet food/egg/rice slop for you to gum twice a day. But since you're not unlike the heffers you see plowing through their value meals at McDonalds, you eat so fast that you puke up your meal and then enjoy it for a second time. Your ass glands leak! All the time! I have to wipe your ass with a kitty baby wipe three times a day which of course you hate so I constantly walk around with scratches on my arms. Your ass glands also tend to leave a signature wherever you sit. You follow me everywhere! EVERYWHERE. Give a girl some space. You're kind of stupid. You still haven't leaned what glass is and it's horrible to watch ypou fly across the apartment to the window trying to get the pigoen that's perched on the firescape just to smack into the glass. It HAS to hurt! Stop it! There's glass there! And please stop trying to drink out of the toilet. You can't support your massive weight and you always FALL IN and then tear ass around the apartment soaked in toilet water. Not cool. So to sum up: you are obese, leaky ass glands, toothless, shed 100% of the time, and clingy beyond comprehension. Cat #2 Coward McHidey You were a tiny kitten being chased by a coyote. I just happened to witness this and saved you while visiting my folks upstate. My reward for saving your life? You. You hide. That's all you do. It's been 6 years. Don't you trust me yet? But whatever, to each his own. Just may I ask you to NOT hide in my drawers? Yes, I will marvel at the fact that you possess the skills to open drawers in the first place, but when my nice neat clean clothes become covered in your hair, it's not OK. You are the fussiest eater I have ever seen. Just be grateful that I can afford to buy you the good food or you'd be chomping on Friskies. But are you grateful? No. You turn your nose up to everything and then SCREAM for hours on end like you are being starved. You are given dry food, wet food, bits of fresh chicken, and even rice...I DON'T EAT THAT WELL!!! Shut up and stop being so picky. And oh yeah, you owe me $150 because I dragged you to the vet just to have him tell me that the reason you don't eat much is because you're picky. Take a cue from my fiance. You can't ignore me all the time and then just decide you want some lovin and expect to get it. Please cease hopping on my head when I am sound asleep in the middle of the night purring like crazy. This is not the time for petting and belly rubbing. This is the time to sleep. Do you ever come to me for some love and attention when I am awake? No. Not once. If you decide you would like some attention during the hours I am awake, then I'm game! Come on over! But no more pouncing on my head expecting a belly rub a 3:30 AM. To both of you: I'm glad you get along so well. I know you love each other. But we need to end the play fighting. I know you enjoy pouncing on each other but could you keep the noise to a minimum? MEEEEEEEeeOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRROOWWWWWWWWW is not a soothing sound. Kindly play with your indoor voices! And Fatty? please don't lick Coward ...like that. It's gross. Like, really gross. I understand that sometimes you guys don't feel well. It happens to all of us. You know I will always get you medicine and make you better. But PLEASE do your best to not puke, cough up hairballs, pee, or get the runs ON MY BED! There is a whole apartment with easily cleaned surfaces for that. But no. Each and every time you guys get sick it's on the fucking bed! I have bought 4 mattresses in 6 years! Enough is enough. Just try your best to not be so annoying! I know we can make this relationship work.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around irritated pet owner <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-05-17T07:48:16-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/161676427.html Dear CATS: You make it impossible to love you!!!! text M w/ male voices in my head, seeking F counterpart w/ female voices - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/148955898.html 25 y/o male, with the misfortune of hearing only male voices. Not a single woman upstairs. We make great conversation but can only take so much of each other, and none of us clean up. Ideally seeking my female counterpart in the mirror situation. Please have between 3 and 6 female voices (not counting THE ONE). Only people in control of their voices please, the last thing I need is someone who lets the lessers drive. If you respond to this please don't do so as one of your subs. I want THE ONES to match first and then we can slowly introduce our subs to eachother if it seems to work out. Prefer to meet around Motor Parkway in the region where it is south of the LIE. Please do not respond asking me if I'm the keymaster, because ha ha very funny I've heard that before. Yes I saw that movie too, thank you, you are very witty. OK! LEts do this. Motor Parkway, female voices. P.S. Please meet a standard level of hygiene.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around suffolk <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-04-07T00:08:06-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/148955898.html M w/ male voices in my head, seeking F counterpart w/ female voices - m4w text True confessions of a pic collector. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/140266357.html I like to cut out the pictures I receive in response to my fake ads and glue the faces to my GI Joe action figures. Then I enact epic battles between the Craigslist Cobra and the Craigslist Joe. Usually I hyphenate the action figure name with the real name of whoever sent the picture. Sometimes, if they don't sign a real name, I just use their email handle. For instance, in my last battle, which took place on my kitchen counter, Larry-Snake Eyes and EastSideSanchez06-Grand Slam captured Michael-Big Boa after he got his foot caught in my dish drying rack. Michael-Big Boa was really scared because, as you know, Larry-Snake Eyes doesn't talk. He just fondles his big black pistol and stares. It's really creepy. And Michael-Grand Slam has all the padding in his red pants, which is really intimidating. So anyway, Larry-Snake Eyes pistol whips Michael-Big Boa and bends his limp figure over a wine cork and ties his hands and feet together with dental floss. Then EastSideSanchez06-Grand Slam fills a plastic bottle cap with water and positions it on the counter in front of Michael-Big Boa's head. Larry-Snake Eyes grabs Michael-Big Boa's feet and rocks him forward, submerging his head underwater. Michael-Big Boa jerks his head around, desperate for air. Larry-Snake Eyes lets his feet fall back to the ground, lurching Michael-Big Boa's head out of the water. Grabbing his captives hair and jerking his head back, EastSideSanchez06-Grand Slam moves his lips a mere centimeter from Michael-Big Boa’s ear and shouts, “what were you doing in the restricted area? Are you a spy? Do you know what we do to spies?” Michael-Big Boa knows what Craigslist Joe does to spies. But he doesn’t answer. Instead he jerks his head away from his captor and plunges it back into the water in hopes of drowning himself. Larry-Snake Eyes kicks the bottle cap out from under his head and sends it spilling across the counter. EastSideSanchez06-Grand Slam walks over to his parked jeep and returns with a big orange plastic missile that’s about the size of a GI Joe baseball bat. “Hey Larry-Snake Eyes. Bring that butter dish over here. This thing isn’t going anywhere without a little lubrication.” Anyway, I’ll spare you the rest of the scenario. Things got a little out of hand after the Joes called for backup and Doug-Gung Ho and FabAbs998-Sgt. Bazooka showed up in the FANG (Fully Armed Negator Gyrocopter). But now you know what pic collectors do with your pics. And knowing is half the battle.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-03-08T20:11:42-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/140266357.html True confessions of a pic collector. text Stink, Stank, Stunk - The DOs and DON'Ts of Farting http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/136197383.html One of the worst things about living here in NYC is that this place really stinks! Different parts of the city smell worse than others. For example, when I lived in Washington Heights (in northern Manhattan), upon leaving my apartment one morning and walking no more than about 500 feet, I smelled no less than 5 distinctly different horrible smells. I tentatively identified them as rotting garbage, dogshit, something burned, something dead, and something that defied classification. My present neighborhood in Brooklyn doesn't stink nearly so much; in fact, it even has some good smells. As I walk home from the train in the evenings, one block always smells like someone making toast (one of my favorite smells). And not too far from my apartment there are several bakery factories producing their own delicious smells, especially early in the morning. One reason it stinks so bad here is the sheer number of inhabitants. You pack 8 or 10 million people into a place this size and things are bound to get ugly. Especially on the train, where you can always count on someone stinking things up. Body odor, unwashed hair, foot funk. And worst of all, some nasty ass motherfucker always has to FART!!! If it wasn't so disgusting it might actually be funny - everyone looking around, trying to ferret out the guilty party, but trying not to look too enthusiastic about it (remember the old saying, 'he who smelt it, dealt it?') I will never forget the night I was stuck on the A train (which of course was making local stops) going home to Washington Heights. Although it was like 3 am, the car was full, with standing room only. As we made our way slowly uptown, I became aware of a foul stench which soon expanded to permeate every molecule of air in the crowded car. (Due to my superior sense of smell, I am unfortunately the first to notice things like this). It was so bad that it wasn't long before EVERYBODY smelled it. Passengers began looking around indignantly, nostrils flared, and everyone was instantly a suspect. It was so pervasive and overwhelming that it quickly became the main topic of discussion. People who would never under normal circumstances exchange two words suddenly bonded over the horrible stench that now held them hostage. It would have been heartwarming had I not been so fucking pissed off. I was afraid to even breathe. And the worst thing was, it lingered FOREVER. It just refused to go away. People were prying open windows, pulling their shirts up over their faces - it really was THAT bad. When I finally got home, I took an extra-intense shower, trying to scrub any remaining particles off me. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!GROSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just don't understand how people can think its ok to subject everyone to their noxious emissions. Hold that shit in, for god's sake, until you're in a nice open area with ventilation. In the name of good manners, I think we need to go over a few points regarding the DOs and DON'Ts of farting: Go ahead and let it rip if: 1. You are in the train station and a train is either entering or departing. This kicks up sufficient wind to successfully camouflage any wind you may have created. 2. You are outside and moving around. 3. You sneak up behind some wanker in a crowded nightclub, let it rip, then run away. I used to have friends who made a regular sport of this and it was hysterical. 4. You are in an area which already stinks to high heaven (the sewer treatment plant, Staten Island, etc.) 5. You are in your own house. The rule is, if you pay to live there, then you can fart freely, being considerate of roommates and guests, of course. Keep it to yourself if: 1. You are in an elevator. This is the ultimate farting DON'T and if you are unlucky enough to do this in an elevator I am occupying, I will promptly stick a cork up your ass so it never happens again, you dirty pig! 2. You are just about anywhere else indoors (except the bathroom or your own house, as stated above). When I used to manage a thrift store, for some reason people felt like it was ok to just go around randomly farting. I can't recount the number of times I had to go running into my office after someone dropped a bomb on the sales floor. Honestly, would you do that in Saks? I hope not. 3. You think its funny to do the 'dutch oven' when you're in bed with someone. If you're lucky enough to get laid, you might not want to ruin your chances of it happening again by acting like Beavis and Butthead. 4. You are in a vehicle occupied by anyone other than yourself. 5. You are anywhere near me. I can't stand it when people fart around me, it's one of my biggest pet peeves. I am too much of a lady to do that in front of anyone; I'd rather die or explode. I lived with someone for 4 years and I never farted around him until one day when I got completely fed up with him constantly doing it around me. I waited until he ripped one, then it was my turn. He was so shocked he almost fell off the couch. Then we both laughed until we couldn't breathe. So please, consider the olfactory welfare of your fellow human beings, especially in a city that already stinks as much as New York. Following these simple guidelines will make life a little more bearable for all of us here. Thank you and goodnight. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-02-22T20:28:02-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/136197383.html Stink, Stank, Stunk - The DOs and DON'Ts of Farting text I'm getting married! - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/132433326.html Okay, I'm not getting married...but I'm with someone now and I think we're going to be very happy together. I think this is it. Forever. All right, we're not really together so to speak, you know... boyfriend and girlfriend... but we're very important to each other... best friends really. Well, maybe not best friends. Maybe more like just really close to each other. Really tight. And I do mean that -- really tight, really close... but maybe not in the sense of "close friends" -- maybe more like close... strangers. Tight and close together in a physical manner, more than an emotional sense. But you can't deny the sparks that flew when we, as strangers, gazed longingly into each other's eyes, right? It was so beautiful! Okay, not so much gazed longingly as glanced appreciatively... but the attraction was undeniable, you have to agree. All right, maybe glanced appreciatively doesn't describe it either. But I'm fairly sure you caught a glimpse of my forehead in your peripheral vision. A passionate glimpse. And that's an amazing connection. So, maybe not a connection so much as a nervous assessment. But I believe that anxiety over what we have is only natural, given the astounding sexual tension. Couldn't you feel it rattling between us? Perhaps the rattling had something to do with the subway train, but I really felt one with you. One with you in the sense that we were so close, we were almost one person. Maybe my body swinging into yours as the train rounded a curve was a bit jarring... but only in a way that two universes colliding could be called "a bit jarring." You didn't have to move away from me... it's natural, truly. But perhaps the raw chemistry between us was too much for you. Or it might have been the heel of my boot in the arch of your foot. I feel we were meant to be...I know you. But I don't really know you, so if you read this, Mr. Orange-Manhattan-Portage-Bag-and-Rust-Colored-Corduroy-Jacket-on-the-R-train, sorry about tromping on your foot and ramming my bag into your gut. But Love Hurts, right? Call me? webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-02-09T00:04:07-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/132433326.html I'm getting married! - w4m text The Popsicle Cartel http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/127520509.html I would like to know why you can't buy one box of grape popsicles (regular OR sugar free), or one box of cherry popsicles or why there has to be 4 orange popsicles in each box but only 3 grape (there are 5 cherry). If you HATE orange popsicles, as I do, you wind up throwing one quarter of the box away. If you write to Popsicle Brand Popsicle people asking this question, they don't answer you. I practically live on Popsicle Brand Popsicles and can't believe they don't answer me. WHY? Do I, perhaps, sound like a raving lunatic who has more invested in popsicles than they do? I also wrote them and asked WHY the quality control of sugar free popsicles is so poor. Sometime I get a box and the cherry is the cherry from the TROPICAL FLAVOR box. No shit. I HATE the tropical flavors. They SUCK. And now they are sneaking them into the regular boxes. Do they just have some left over and they toss them in there? How do they get in there? Is it a joke of some kind on the popsicle assembly line? What is going on at the popsicle factory? Are Lucy and Ethel working there? Other times you'll get a grape and it will taste like lightly flavored frozen water. ick. And the orange is about the only flavor that is consistently orange and I hate the orange. And why can't stores keep these only the shelves? SF popsicles I mean. Here is a run down of popsicle carrying stores and their issues: 1. Fairway. Fairway is an issue unto itself. I want to kill people in that store every time I go in. They have great tabouli and great mini bagels and decent prices but their help is rude, the cashiers act like you're annoying the piss out of them just by your presence, the other shoppers are idiots who can't get the fak out of the way, Fairway puts raisins in its rice pudding (Chef Genius, there should NOT be raisins in rice pudding you dope), and the popsicles are all the way in the frigging back. And you go up that last aisle and the help look at you like you've just committed a murder. It's *their* aisle. It is. So you go through the gauntlet of hell and stand dumbstruck at the freezer because there are NO SF popsicles. There is never anyone to ask for new ones and you know they have them. You just want to take the freight elevator down with the surly help and get them yourself. But when they do have them, the price is right and the quality is good (no tropicals from them)but I only brave the insanity at Fairway when I absolutely must. 2. Gristedes. What is up with this place? It's dingy dirty and crappy. Most of them are always out of SF popsicles. I asked customer service one day if they had any downstairs. The guy comes up with the box FORTY FIVE minutes later and complains that people buy too many popsicles. He handed me a box. I asked him for two. He said, "See what I mean?" I get them home, the cherry are tropical and the grape is watered down. I always get watered down grape from Gristedes. Perhaps they order them special so people won't buy too many. The help are not rude but they give you the distinct impression that they'd be having a better day if you weren't there making them do shit like ring your stupid groceries up. Gristedes is more expensive than anywhere else but you're paying for....um, I have no idea. 3. Westside Markets. I like this store. I hate the small aisles with the buffons on their fakking cell phones blocking the way (yesterday a lady said to me "I'm going as fast as I can." and I said, "Uh, no you're NOT." She stopped to hit enter or whatever the fak on her cell phone...that is NOT as fast as you can. And she was HUGE. Huge. So let's block the teeny aisle, stop to hit a button and then claim to be going at top speed. I don't think so.) As I said, I like Westside Markets. They have good rotissere chicken, good spaghetti carbonara and NO STUPID RAISINS in the rice pudding. They sell 4000 kinds of cous-cous but no tabouli. Definitely a downer. But there was a pleasant surprise in the freezer section. SF popsicles had TWO extra in every box. Now I wish they would say what flavors those are because if one is orange, that's only one extra. The help is somewhat pleasant here. Not the tudes of Fairway and slightly more interested in you than Gristedes. Anyway, I got the SF popsicles home and the cherry was tropical and the grape tasted weird. But they were better than Gristedes and cheaper, though not as cheap as Fairway. 3. Fresh Direct. Slightly more expensive than Fairway but you put up with nobody. No surly help. No idiotic shoppers. And they are always in stock and very fresh and no tropical. Some nice Fresh Direct person comes to your house and delivers a dozen boxes of SF popsicles to you while you're still in your pajamas. You can't get a dozen boxes of SF popsicles ANYWHERE ELSE in this city. As I said, slightly more expensive than Fairway but if you want to put up with that Fairway bullshit, be my guest. Fresh Direct is the way to go for Popsicles. 4. Whole Foods: Does not carry Popsicles. I don't shop there for that reason. I occasionally stop in to see what the hoi polloi are up to. 5. Food Emporium. Does not carry Popsicles. Mostly rude cashiers. "Homemade" entrees are pretty good but not worth it to stop there. 6. Garden of Eden. I like this store. It doesn't carry Popsicles. Definitely a problem but the prices are okay, the help is friendly and it just makes me feel good. I think they put raisins in the rice pudding but I could be wrong. Good tabouli and good chicken. Please write to the Popsicle Brand Popsicles people and tell them a box of sf grape would be most welcome. But it can't be watered down. A box of sf cherry would be welcome too. But it can't be tropical. Orange should be banned. Other people TRY to make sugar free ice pops but none is Popsicle Brand Popsicles. They have a whole cartel and they refuse to answer viewer mail. Definitely a problem and I wish I was not hooked on them. And from now on, I'm going to start calling them mf popsicles. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-01-22T15:46:14-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/127520509.html The Popsicle Cartel text Let Me Do Your House Chores For Time With Your Smelly Feet -M4W-PIC- http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/126783950.html (Females only) Don't spend your time doing chores or cleaning your home.I'll come over and do it all for you. I am good at organizing clutter. I'm for real,honest,dependable, and ready to commit time to you and your needs.I like to be rewarded for all the time and effort by you letting me worship your smelly dirty feet after a hard day at work or a work out at the gym.I am a very clean, educated guy who is sane and safe to be around with. My name is jerry I am 25 years old living in manhattan. I am a full time student who has alot of time on my hand. I have a sense of humor and love to laugh with a warm personality. I want to meet new open minded females. age doesn't matter. Let's chat on the phone and meet in a public place where we can get to know each other better! Email me with a description of you and what you might want from me.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around Manhattan(harlem) <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-01-19T18:15:55-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/126783950.html Let Me Do Your House Chores For Time With Your Smelly Feet -M4W-PIC- text Rant: My mother died this evening. Rave: She was a great mom. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/124363875.html She started having hip pain in August, they thought it was sciatica. When it didn't get better, she got an MRI and they found a whole mess of tumors, metasticized lung cancer. They said she could die in anywhere from 2 days to 2 years. Didn't quite believe it then. She had hip surgery, and she seemed to get better. When she came home, she was alone so I slept over most nights (I live down the street on the Lower East Side). My father/her husband passed only last November, they were married for over 40 years and while not a perfect marriage, it was stable and loving and not the typical thing nowadays. Insurance only covered 4 hours of home aides a day, and in the first week my mom called me at work panicked, she had forgotten how to turn off the oven. I soon hired aides for all the hours I couldn't be there (I worked 9-8pm most days) When the back pain came back a few months ago, it was almost a relief to be able to sleep in my own bed again for a while. The radiation treatments had made her very drowsy and more dependent than ever. Work wasn't cutting me enough slack, I was a designer at the firm for 5 years, so I quit, gave 2 weeks, thought ahh, now I'll have more time with my mom. My last day there was Dec 31st. She stayed in the hospital for 3 weeks, finished radiation, but they found new tumors, including her brain. She came home, her mobility and spirits were good. During the last weeks of work, the transit strike happened - no aides, so it was just me and momma. It was great! My first reall break from work in quite a while. We went on walks in the hood (in her wheel chair), really had quality time, the whole days stretched out in front of us. I was sad when the strike ended. So finally I'm out of work, taking care of freelance obligations, a wonderful girlfriend, and then my mom starts sleeping tons and getting really out of it. I thought it was overmedication, so I pushed up an appointment for a check up to last wednesday. Got an ambulette to deliver us, and when the doc sees her, he pulls me aside, says this is really bad, and admits her to the hospice wing, where she promptly goes to sleep. I go home, sleep in my own bed. The next day, she's awake but barely responsive. I talk to her, and she gruffly/affectionately tells me to shut up. Later she says my name twice. Then she sleeps.. She did not wake up since. I've been going there 2x a day since, talking her ear off, saying everything that I could say. She passed around 5:30, no stuggle, just breathing, then suddenly not. I can't believe I don't have parents anymore. I'm 34, own my own place, have a lot of good close friends, a keeper of a girlfriend, a decent career (though kind of on hold right now), have a pretty good amount of savings (and half of a large estate coming to me), but I can't help but think - it's all not quite as good without my mom and dad to help me savor it, and tell me how proud they are of me. I almost wish I didn't have a good relationship with them, maybe this would be easier? My mom was so great, she organzined her arrangements ahead of time - prepaid the mausoleum niche, left behind all the papers I need to sort everything out, a will, etc etc. Talk about forethought, caring and class! I can only hope to be as good to my children as my parents were to me. I'm absolutely distraught knowing my parents will never meet my children. That's the human condition, I suppose. Well, thats my rant and rave. Curse my momma for so selfishly being mortal! Cheers to my momma for being a truly excellent mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, boss, collegue and role model. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-01-11T01:59:23-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/124363875.html Rant: My mother died this evening. Rave: She was a great mom. text Lonely Onanista Living in National Monument Seeks Assistance -w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/122599648.html I am living inside the Washington Square Arch. There are no windows so it's a bit tomblike and claustrophobic, although a rudimentary air circulation system is provided through the nostrils and buttonholes in the façade's marble statues. On the rare occasion that I need oxygen I seek the great outdoors - I egress and enter through a secret hatch in the left hand pocket of George Washington's breeches, something not patently obvious to the unwitting onlooker. I have been hired by the Department of Parks and Recreation to do an interior décor project which entails completely wallpapering the vertical surfaces in dollar bills and paving the entire floor with quarters, edge-to-edge. I lodge in a tiny spartan room at the top, reachable via a cast iron spiral staircase, where I sleep beneath a pane of glass in the roof (the structure's only source of natural light) on a single-sized Army-style metal cot, under an itchy woolen blanket. Other accoutrement: a sink, toilet and a bidet. I've also been supplied with a hotplate and a small refrigerator but I don't do much cooking, preferring instead to rely on Balance Bars, Urban Park Rangers' semen and the occasional falafel take-out from my favorite place on MacDougal Street as sustenance. My work is painstaking and requires many breaks. I fill this time by reading, writing, masturbating, and entertaining the various Park Rangers whose job details also necessitate frequent pauses. They all have keys and enter the Monument the conventional way, through a door on the Arch's western side, scaled for a child's playhouse. They must stoop while entering, an amusing picture, especially given those hats they wear. I never know who might show up or when and this unpredictability gives my long days some excitement. And while their visits are indeed fun I am tiring of the Park Rangers - they each would like to plant their seed and grow little trees inside my belly but I will have none of it. I have no time to tend nurseries and have told them so. I put in a request with Human Resources to be allowed outside "entertainment assistance" - beyond the roster of Park personnel - and it has been approved. You will be sent a rudimentary map of Washington Square Park, where a red circle indicates the location of a certain elm tree with a knot containing a key to the Arch door, hidden for you in plain sight, Boo Radley style. You will enter the Monument and climb the black staircase. You will find me in my little garret, on my stomach atop the narrow bed, naked except for a pair of black kitten heeled boots which end at mid-calf. My legs are wide apart, spreading myself open - I've hooked the boots into the corners of the bed's metal footboard - except my knees are slightly pointed inwards like pigeon toes so you have a mostly unobstructed view of the goings-on, what little there is to see. I am masturbating, both hands at the ready underneath me, arms akimbo. This is my preferred position. My ass is gently bobbing up and down at a quick even pace, somewhere between Allegro and Presto, if I were a metronome. My body is completely taut, like a rope in a tug of war game played by Marines, every sinewy muscle in my legs, arms, shoulders and back well defined and twitching as a result of my efforts. My buttocks clench, right and left, involuntarily, occasionally revealing a spasm, my molars grind and chatter as if I were shivering. An extremely sensitive clitoris dictates the need to have a layer of material between fingers and body. Thin cotton handkerchiefs suffice and one is in place - I'm lucky to have found a vintage store nearby with a seemingly unending supply. My favorite Ranger, the one with the sense of humour, has already visited me today and before leaving has dropped a load of quarters, stacked within a tied condom, inside my rectum, as ballast. A very thoughtful gesture, considering the fact that my complex yet simple Onanistic process involves using my body weight/gravity in combination with the pressure from my fingers beneath me to cause the pleasure I seek. It's basic Physics, really. The "O" end of the coin-packed condom sloppily protrudes from my anus in a clown's grimace. You approach the left side of the bed, the direction where my head is turned. My face is at its edge - I am in a somewhat diagonal pose - and I look up at you, my dark hair in disarray, fallen over my pale face, my bangs in choppy clumps across my forehead. You see one big brown eye following your gaze, half a nose, a portion of mouth, its carmine lips slightly parted. You are still fully clothed. You unbutton your coat and take it off along with your beret and scarf. I watch as you undo your pants, slowly, button by button. I would reach out and admire the soft wide-wale fabric of the corduroy but my hands are totally occupied. You extract your prick from its hiding spot. It is fat and long and I can see that it is already slightly throbbing. Although it is not the optimum set-up for such things, given your height and the relative counterpoint of my horizontal state, you introduce yourself, in lieu of a handshake - another formality not physically possible at the moment - by gently easing your warm erection into my eager mouth, the saliva there already welling, and yet despite the awkwardness of our respective postures it is a most pleasant how-do-you-do. But, oh, I would so very much like to be able to properly arrange myself around your sweet upright cock and give it the salutation it so richly deserves! You take off your shirt, your undershirt. I ask you to keep your pants on as well as your shoes. You get onto the bed, between my legs, move my knees apart and sample, with your fingers and mouth, the glistening egg white substance emanating from my body. You lay yourself on top of me, face down, your body perfectly aligned with mine, like open scissors. Your corduroy on my nakedness, your shoes decisively holding my booted feet still, your heavy knockwurst - now steadily pulsating - in repose along the length of my ass crack, cradled as if in a warm bun. I am aware of your heart pounding, almost in unison with my metronome beat. I match my breathing to yours. You lightly bite the nape of my neck, tug my head by the hair, then release it. Your belt buckle presses into the small of my back, hurting me, and I suggest that you remove it. You pull the leather strap from your pant loops in one motion, like an expert swordsman removing his rapier from its scabbard, and throw it to the floor. My ass is tilted slightly upwards, giving the hands below me room for leverage. This stance offers you the perfect angle for your entrée. You guide your prick inside me, slowly but firmly, filling me up. You lie there for a few moments, not moving, keeping enough stress on my body to make me feel in your command yet allowing me space to freely continue pleasuring myself. You begin to thrust, at first exactly corresponding to my speed but soon I find that I am following the tempo of your movements instead of leading with my own. The roll of coins imbedded in my ass puts some weight on your prick and this excites you. You grind into me, con gusto, gradually increasing the intensity of your delivery. At a certain point I use all the energy I can muster, untangle myself from your powerful restraint and draw my legs shut. I hold them rigidly, as if they were glued from cunt to heels, knees pressed immutably together. I like doing this. It makes your plunging more challenging yet you are of such sufficient length that you don't dislodge a millimeter - there is a sensation of unretractable tightness, as if you were fucking the virgin of all virgins. I squeeze my buttocks, amplifying the effect. The original idea was that you would "assist" me. I am, in the end, an Onanista, generally used to pleasuring myself, thanks to the lonely confines of my profession. But you have other plans. You use the strength of your own muscular knees, thighs and feet to break open my tight wishbone of a leg grip. You get on your knees, encircle my small waist with your hands and draw me up to a kneeling position, ass in the air, head down. I look to the side and see dozens of George Washington's eyes staring back at me. You release your grasp of my midsection and grab my hands from under me. They were still in their repetitive fingertip-tapping, trying to get myself where I needed to go. But you will not let me. You announce that my training wheel days are over and that I have to learn how to ride without them now. You confiscate my handkerchief - the ultimate taunt - put it to your nose, inhaling its luscious scent and then shove it into the pocket of your corduroys. Your pants have been half on and half off until this point. Now you fiercely kick them down, but not off, exposing your nakedness. You take my arms by the wrists and hold them together against my back. You resume your activity, flesh to bare flesh this time. My face is no longer in view and has practically embossed its features onto the sheet like the Turin Shroud due to your force. All that can be seen of my body on the bed is a round mountain of ass - with its narrow peak of waist - atop a triangle of open legs, hip to knee, my arms held behind me, your prick a blur of motion going in and out of my pussy. You know what you are doing. I can sense that the finish line is just around the bend - "look, Ma, no hands!" - and I sense that you sense it too, and that you are neck and neck with me in the race. You push harder into me, with such vigor that my body actually moves to the head of the bed. Were it not for the wall to stop me I would be doing a full somersault onto the floor. You can hear my teeth knocking again - my lower jaw swinging uncontrollably from side to side - a sure signal that the end is near. You are encouraged by that, the fruit of your labor, tangible proof that you are having a major effect on me and it propels you wildly and then, suddenly, it starts - convulsing together: pussy, ass, prick. Feral sounds are emitted. You feel the coins in my ass moving from side to side in my everything jiggle. If they weren't so tightly packed they would be ka-chinking a tune like a pocketful of loose change. You let yourself go and lay some nice hot eggs deep within me, not stopping until your balls are completely empty. We rest, you slumped on top of me, moist with sweat, yours and mine, your pants at your ankles, your arms around me, cupping my small breasts, one in each hand. Our heartbeats gradually return to somewhere between Larghetto and Adagio and slowly you begin to collect yourself and your belongings. I, too, have things to do and places to go. I throw on a long velvet dress and a black coat and see you down the staircase to the too-small door. We emerge from the Arch into the darkness of the Park. The Rangers have gone home for the night, their empty Flintmobiles lined up in a silent row. I let you keep the key. We part. You walk eastward with a fragrant souvenir in your back pants pocket. I walk in the opposite direction towards Sixth Avenue - your runny eggs making shiny lines down the insides of my thighs, knees, calves - the stack of coins a stiff reminder in my ass, and head off in search of more handkerchiefs, just in case you never return. <img src=122599648.1.jpg> <img src=122599648.1.jpg> webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-01-04T14:15:07-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/122599648.html Lonely Onanista Living in National Monument Seeks Assistance -w4m text Gay? Need a ride? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119812945.html Take advantage of all that time in traffic to meet other singles. Gay car pool now available in Brooklyn! Looking to drive entertaining blokes to their day and have a laugh in all that gridlock. I'll provide an old saab, we'll leave from park slope-ish. Strike Schmike.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around Park Slope and beyond... <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-21T19:58:30-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119812945.html Gay? Need a ride? text 123 Things I Love About NYC?! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119802760.html Isn't it ironic that on the second day of the transit strike the New York magazine is delivered to my door with the cover "123 Reasons to Love New York Right Now"?! Let me start a Transit Strike version of this: "___ Reasons to "Love" a NYC Transit Strike" 1. Hipster buttcrack on the Wburg bridge 2. Hipsterettes walking in '80's boots on the Wburg bridge 3. Mayor Bloomberg freezing his Republican tuchus off on the Brooklyn Bridge 4. Brooklynites who can't drive with bicyclists on the road 5. All those great 96th Street checkpoints 6. The ultra thorough coverage from all the local stations: 2, 4, 5, 7, 9 and don't forget NY1! 7. Your face getting chapped 8. You can't feel your toes 9. How many sick days do I have left? 10. What is the average MTA worker's pay, $47,000? 11. Aren't unions supposed to be unified? Is TWU 100 the rogue chapter? 12. Social life? What social life? 13. I never realized how important the G train was, until now. 14. And where does the money from the fines go? They should go to the folks who pay $2 for awful service!   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around Greenpoint <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-21T19:05:27-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119802760.html 123 Things I Love About NYC?! text SUMO WRESTLE ME IN TIMES SQUARE TOMORROW. I'M SERIOUS. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119751618.html I know it's cold, but this should be fun. And it's something to take our minds off this strike. Meet me at the corner of 42nd and 7th avenue at 12:30pm tomorrow. I will be wearing a sumo wrestling outfit (diaper and all) and all you have to do is wrestle me. Don't worry, you won't get hurt. It's just something fun to do on a Thursday. This is completely serious. Don't believe me? Show up, and you'll see. I'm not insane. I just like sumo wrestling. See you tomorrow. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-21T15:17:14-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119751618.html SUMO WRESTLE ME IN TIMES SQUARE TOMORROW. I'M SERIOUS. text Why I'm not sleeping with the Nice Guy On the Second Date http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119695009.html I'm a fairly average New York girl -- by which I mean slightly above average in many ways, but not so much so that I'm all that unusual in New York. Like a lot of women here, I'm reasonably smart, pretty, and thoughtful. I have a decent job, good friends, my own interests. There are a lot of women like me in New York, so while I MIGHT be the only woman in New York who holds these views about casual sex, dating, and nice guys, I doubt it. And since I'm basically average, my behavior conforms to fairly average standards. Which means that like most social phenomena, my behavior is affected by my perception of my incentives and disincentives to act, and the laws of supply and demand. So, guys. The fact that you're a nice guy is not what's keeping me from sleeping with you on the second date. In fact, since I'm fairly emotionally healthy, if you weren't a nice guy I wouldn't sleep with you at all. No, instead, it's just that it's not worth it after the second date -- nice guy or not. Why not? 1. Because I'm pretty damn sure that sleeping with you -- after the second date -- will not be as sexually satisfying as masturbation. Frankly, I'm not going to be that attracted to you after the second date. Waiting until the fifth date just means that I was attracted enough to you on the second date to keep dating you in hopes that I might be attracted enough to you on the fifth date to get some sexual satisfaction out of sleeping with you. (All date time lines are approximate, of course. Fifth could mean third or seventh, depending on you and me and our chemistry). Believe me, I wish I were as attracted to you on the second date as the fifth. But I'm not. And I wish that that the physiology of sex were such that any stick in any hole would do the job for me. But it won't. So if we make it to five dates, it's because there's some actual chemistry there that builds enough for me to overcome all the other disincentives to sleep with you. What are these other disincentives? 2. The chance that you're a psycho 3. The chance that you have an STD 4. The chance that I'll get pregnant 5. The inevitable awkwardness after sleeping with someone you don't really know that well. 6. The absence of the ego-gratification incentive. It's something of an accomplishment -- albeit a minor one -- for a guy to get laid. Not so for women. So, Mr. Nice-But-Not-Really guy. The next time you don't get laid on the second date, you should not assume that I want to have a relationship with you, and that I imagine that not sleeping with you is the way to get it. Or that I really WANT to sleep with you, but am stifled by "society's norms." Or -- sillier still -- that I'd be willing to spend three long hours of my life with someone I don't find all that interesting in exchange for a free dinner. Realize instead that my body is not like your body, and my incentives and disincentives for sex are not like yours. And that if we have so little in common and so little chemistry that there's "no incentive" for you to see me after a second date because I didn't sleep with you -- trust me. It's no loss for either of us. Because realizing this may make you less hostile and bitter, which may in turn make you more attractive and get you laid more often! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-21T11:41:15-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/119695009.html Why I'm not sleeping with the Nice Guy On the Second Date text Retarded Clients and their business ventures.. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/118154762.html What is going on? Did someone hand out laptops and wifi to a short-bus full of 'entrepeneurs'? These are the kinds of postings populating CL... "Want site done just like Lavalife. Limited Budget"... sure.. no mind that it's taken years to make that a multi-million dollar site... I'll build one just like it for you on the weekend... for a few hundred bucks! "Design my portfolio".."For your portfolio"... hmmmn? Design you a portfolio.. to build my portfolio... Genius.. why didn't I think of that sooner. Why bother designing for money when I can fill my 'portfolio' with someone elses never visited, weak-ass content. "Designer needed. Low budget. Must be reliable, fast and professional." Thanks... for all the project details I mean... It's always good to know the parameters when starting such a dynamic and life-altering project.. and to have bullshit standards imposed by some idiot with no idea what he's talking about. "Photoshop Guru... or any post with the word Guru in the title"... you want a guru, go shove a holistic herb up your 5th dimension ass cause your in dreamland if you think a frickin' 'GURU' is going to accept any project for less than $75/hour and at a minimum of 5 billable hours..paid upfront. "Need Help... must have site completed by tomorrow morning!".. well holy shit.. did you ever fuck this up... and if you want one of us to parachute in and save your dumb-ass.. all while working on the stinking pile of visual polution you cheaped out on in the first place... you better have that finger on the Paypal button... and be prepared to shut up and stay up late with us. --Fuckup. The holy grail of CL creative posts...... "Can't afford to pay much but if this goes well.. will have projects for you in the future".. oh really.. wow... when.. let me get my 2006 scheduler... I can't wait...a whole nother project with a budget of shit.. and I get to wait a whole 4 months for it.. let me clear everything I had planned in my life next year to be sure I can accommodate you.. you fucking jack-ass. PAY....PAY PAY PAY you cheap fucking degenerates. This is not a fucking charity site. You want a business... be a professional. You want something for free... ask your fucking parents... you want miracles done for no money.. go to church. Enough already you pathetic dip-shits.... webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-14T13:08:54-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/118154762.html Retarded Clients and their business ventures.. text To the guy who robbed me at 114th & Morningside Ave, 11/28/05 http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/114694140.html First off, thank you. As far as armed robbers go, you were rather civil. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even touch me. And although you took my cell phone, my bankcard, and all of my cash, you left behind my new Christmas CDs, my wallet with identification cards, credit cards, etc. I appreciate the fact that your tone of voice was relatively calm, too. You let the gun do the threatening for you. Adding harshly spoken or offensive words would have made the whole experience much more terrifying. I want you to know also that I’m sorry I lied to you. Not about the PIN number--I told you the real one. I lied when you first approached me and asked if I had change for a dollar. On several occasions, I’ve given change to strangers so that they could feed meters and stuff like that. I am even one of those people who give change, new socks, and sometimes food to beggars (not always, but more often than most New Yorkers). I lied and told you that I didn’t have change because—for whatever reason—I had a bad feeling about you. After what happened, I feel guilty for lying and for refusing your initial request so forcefully. Maybe I came off as rude, and that provoked your anger. I wonder if you would have pulled out your gun and taken my stuff anyway. A concerned citizen saw me crying and trembling a few seconds after you rode away. I told him what happened and he called the police. I quickly canceled my cell phone service as well as my ATM card, so I doubt that you were able to get any use out of them. At first I was pretty upset and angry. The things you robbed me of were not rightfully yours. Maybe they were not rightfully mine, either. Maybe everything anyone has is a gift. But I try very hard every day to be thankful for what I have and to make good use of the gifts God has given me. (Not that that was always the case.) When bad stuff happens to me now, I do my best to swallow it and spit out good in return. Sometimes that can be pretty difficult—for example, when people do things to other people like what you did to me last night. I know your life has not been fair. People must not have treated you as they should have. But unless you start accepting the hate people give you and repaying it with love, nothing is going to change. In fact, your life and my life and many others’ lives will suffer because of it. I’ll give you a concrete example to show you what I mean. Several different law enforcement officers took reports from me. They all wanted a description of you. I told them the truth—that you were a black male. I didn’t feel I had much choice. And by the slightest little amount, I felt the world’s racism grow. Today when I was walking down the street, I couldn’t help but stare with suspicion at every young black man with a big jacket and baggy pants. I know you have felt the injustice of racism. I am sorry to say that your actions are also keeping that injustice alive. Right now I should be filling out applications to graduate school. Since last night it has been difficult to concentrate on anything. So, to help me deal with recent events in a productive way—or maybe in a way that isn’t destructive—I decided to write this. It has helped me. I hope that it helps you. I don’t want you to get caught. There is no way that I would be able to identify you in a line-up. Please make better use of the life God has given you. My hopes and prayers are with you. -S webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-30T02:53:53-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/114694140.html To the guy who robbed me at 114th & Morningside Ave, 11/28/05 text You are NOT adopting my pet. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/111799587.html I recieved a mass of e-mail thanking me for this bit of truthful humor. Thank you, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! Most people requested that I repost it. So here it is, with ALOT more content. I rescue, and foster, and have placed several adoption ads through Craigslist throughout the years. My inbox is flooded with messages all the time. To the people who message me with no information about themselves, or their experience with animals. You are only interested in how to get to my house, how big the animal is, and whether or not it's free. You are not adopting my pet. To the people who aren't going to be home, but ask me if I can drop the animal off at your neighbor's house. You are not adopting my pet. To the 14 year olds who want the cute cuddly kittens, or bunnies. Does your mother know you're scanning the adoption forum? Do you have a job to care for these animals? You are not adopting my pet. To the people who inquire about the iguanas but who openly admit that they have no knowledge of how big they actually get. You are not adopting my pet. To the people from Connecticut, Mass, etc, who message me and ask how far I am willing to drive... Well, I'm not. You are not adopting my pet. To the people who ask if I know any numbers of breeders and if I could get them a nice discount. Hello? You are not adopting my pet. To the people who ask if they can adopt puppies and kittens in pairs, so they can breed them when they get older...... You are no adopting my pet(s). Once in a while I recieve a purebred cat, or very desirable breed of dog, or expensive species of snake that needs to be put up for adoption. These obviously get the MOST replies. Most replies consist of "I want it, e-mail me with pics." Um, no. But thanks for playing. You... are not adopting my pet. Some e-mails contain "I'm interested in the animal for adoption. Please call me back today after 9, or tomorrow between 10 and 11, or again after 3." No, I'm not taking these orders from someone I don't know. If you REALLY want to adopt the said animal, then YOU will contact me when it's convenient for ME. Otherwise...... You, are not adopting my pet. Alot of the e-mails consist of "Hello, we're 3 college girls sharing an apartment, and we want to adopt your kitty! We can offer lots of love!" That's very sweet of you girls, really, but what will you do when you graduate college and move on with your life? Where will the kitty end up? You are not adopting my pet. And of course, only a few e-mails consist of, "Hello, we are a loving family of four living in a nice house with a fenced in yard. We have lots of experience with animals, and are looking for one more to add to our family." YES. YOU are adopting my pet. Often times people surrender their animals to me because the animals are sick or injured, and the people don't have the time or the desire to care for them. Once I make sure the animals are doing well, I will put them up for adoption. The SAME people who GAVE me their animal want to adopt them back. Are you kidding? No. Just, no. YOU are not adopting my pet. To the people who tell me that I'm selfish for charging a small adoption fee... SELFISH? If I were truly selfish, I would not be doing this in the first place, now would I? You are not adopting my pet. To the people interested in small animals and reptiles. When I ask you which veterinarian you plan on using, and you tell me that only dogs and cats need a vet... WAKE UP. Exotics get sick TOO. You are not adopting my pet. To the people who want to adopt an animal for a birthday or a Christmas present... That's sweet of you. While your intentions are good, absolutely NOT. When the recipient of this animal decides that they don't want it, what will you do then? You are not adopting my pet. I'm sure there will be more... Please flag as "best of." Thank you. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-16T21:03:58-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/111799587.html You are NOT adopting my pet. text i bought condoms from my deliguy for NOTHING,ruining our relationship http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/110817852.html really....thanks so much. we've had sex before, this shouldn’t have been that complicated, but last night was a RIDICULOUS reminder, of why we will never have sex again. 11:30. I’m downtown. you call. where am i? where are you. cool, I’ll call you right back. 12:15. Hey what’s up? nothing. me either. cool, I’ll see you in 15. I get home, i brush my teeth, i run the razor over my pits, and take a freshening wipe down there-just so i know i smell like all things vanilla and roses. rushing around like a maniac. i even bought condoms from MY DELI GUY!! great, now he knows I’m a huge skank. he knows i don't have a boyfriend, and my run in there at 12:30 upon hanging up the phone, frantically, staring up at the condoms mustering the courage to actually ASK FOR THEM....I’m sure, put everything into perspective for him. I’m not a shy girl, but its like asking your DAD for them!!! COME ON!! You only get ONE deli guy where you live!! He didn't even wait for me to ask for them, he reached up and pointed. i nodded. we both blushed. you ruined my relationship with my deli guy. how can i go back there now? After all the pacing I can do, I’m drunk after all... and it’s inevitable that I’m going to lie down. I start ignoring your calls, because you’re taking too long. Now you text me , saying you’re downstairs. I ignore this too. I wake up, I don’t remember any of this. I call you. You come over anyway. After all, you live around the corner. I turn off all the lights, not because I’m trying to set a mood-but because they’re already starting to cause permananent bright spots on my brain, and I actually can’t see anything with them ON. You open my front door before I even get there after buzzing you in. I can tell already this is going to be one of THOSE nights. We walk into my room. You sway and stumble hey, thanks for knocking that picture frame off the wall and breaking the glass…no! its totally cool, I’ll clean it up later. -and I thank god the window wasn’t open, or I’d be in the middle of a homicide investigation today, instead of posting about how terrible you were on craigslist. I’d probably have posted anyway, but then felt really bad, since you were dead and all. You really are rico fucking suave aren’t you? I’m not sure how many times you’ve had sex, or with how many women, but I’m sure by now, you must have figured out that women need some sort of lubrication, or you won’t be entering. Thanks for skipping the foreplay-the 2 closed mouth kisses, before your tiny, cold hands pulled my pants down were the hottest thing since the before pictures of my grandma’s stomach tumor. Now, I’m sure lots of girls will lie back on the bed and pant and moan in some terrible cat like position for you…clawing at the sheets and whispering how wet they are…(though this would be a lie, as there was nothing to make that happen except my hands and the thought of that marine I slept with a few weeks ago) ….while they wait for you to take your shirt off, and pants, and underpants. While you drunkly unbutton, making that terrible grunting noise, and that god awful nose whistle.Oh, I wanted to thank you, for leaving your thick wool dark socks on…god you know how that turn me on. Wait for you… While you dig in the dark, for a condom. HOWEVER, I wasn’t really amused, and it was kinda awkward. I lied back, like you asked, but then the room started to spin, and I almost drifted off, waiting for you. You’re so considerate to pretend to look for one in the first place… “I can’t find it, we don’t need one baby you’re so fuckin hot wanna suck my cock yeah you like that dick inside you?” I’m not even really going to address that, but that IS what came out of your mouth, wheile you stood there in your socks, before you climbed on top of me, causing me to come damn near to a coronary. nice try, and we both know I’m one for all the dirty talk, but there’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near me without a piece of rubber dividing us. You’re lucky I don’t have a sheet with a hole cut out in it, as you look and smell like you just came from a gang bang tonight. You complain when I roll out from underneath you to get the condoms I sacrificed my relationship with deli man for-thanks for the highschool pressure of baby we don’t need a condom. It especially turns me on. This is officially the worst sex I’ve had( maybe that’s not true..) but its pretty bad. I glance over, and you appear to be directing a symphony with your hands. You catch me, and put your hand on your cock. You ask me if I want it between my ‘tities’. In case you didn’t know, that’s the LEAST attractive word I’ve ever head. You’re making weird gurgling sounds while I open the package, and hand you the condom. You look like you can’t find my hand to take it from me…so I decide if I’m gonna get ANYWHERE tonight I should take matters into my own hands. i smile and go down on you for a little bit, while your mouth runs off every curse word you’ve ever heard, and you grip my shoulders like you might die at this moment. I sit up, roll the condom down, and hop on top of you. This is exciting for a minute, until you start twisting my breasts-like you’re kneading dough. Now I’ve overlooked the fact that you skipped all and any form of foreplay, that I had to rub my own clit to get wet-and that you wouldn’t lick my mouth let alone anything else. You push me off of you. I’m confused. I sit back for a second, I scratch my head. You sit up and yell “Colombus day!!” I sit up, and contemplate shouting something like “ earth day!” ….hell, I’m a good fuck. Far from uptight in bed and you know it. I’ll play along with whatever stupid shit you’re going through at the moment, so’s not to sacrifice what could be good sex but this is just getting ridiculous. “YEAH!”……..i wonder why I said that, and you sit up , and say you wanna pound me. Can’t we get a LITTLE more creative with the terminology??? Woo. Fucking. Hoo. So hot. Oh yeah baby, fuck. Me. Harder.ummmm……is this over yet? I’m gripping your back, your ass…and working my hips…screaming like my life depends on it, and saying all the good dirty words. After a good 5 minutes of me putting on my best banshee routine…pounding my fist against the wall, you stop pumping away “I need to fuck you DOGGIE BABY!!” anything to get this to come to an end. I oblige, turn around and get ready. I don’t feel anything. I’m still making some noise, so you know I’m alive, and there waiting. I ask if you need me to turn around. No. This is just damn embarrassing. My ass is in the air, and nothing is going on. I feel you start slapping your limp dick, against my behind, and I ask you again, if you need me to turn around. You’ve gone completely soft. Which leads me to the conclusion, that I was correct in my assumption that the last time we slept together you had taken Viagra, as yes it was great that we went forever, but you couldn’t come, and not even my dirty porn star quality blow job that took 25 minutes could do the trick. You let go of my left leg you’ve been holding up like a dog at a fire hydrant, and collapse backwards. i ask if you’re okay because I know you didn’t achieve an orgasm, I know I sure as hell didn’t. “why didn’t you come?”, you slur. “…..” “…I was waiting for you to come, and now I can’t” I’m sorry its done. “………..” You tell me you’re going to throw up. And I just wanted to say thanks again, by the way, for NOT throwing up all over my breasts, but if you’d have made it to the bathroom that would have been fantastic. At least it wasn’t on my bed either-the doorway was pefect hunnie, no, don’t feel bad. Your small penis, and your terrible pumping, going soft on me, no oral, no kissing and the fact that I couldn’t even get you to lick a nipple-all led up to the very moment of you throwing up a cheeseburger into the doorway of my living room. You sit up , and I’m standing there, half trying not to throw up, myself, and half trying not to laugh at this ENTIRE situation. Thanks neighbor, you say-and you exit swiftly. Thank god for swiffer wet jets, and those lovely little felt things that get thrown away. Oh, and for my strong stomach. Thank YOU darling, for a memorable evening, and for a reminder that after a night like this, i won’t ever pick up the phone, when I can’t understand more than 3 words in a sentence, after midnight, from anyone, ever. Not even my mom. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-12T19:09:05-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/110817852.html i bought condoms from my deliguy for NOTHING,ruining our relationship text MC With The Hot Guy Who Died in My Apartment - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/107070471.html Okay - Someone just posted a long, FAKE story about having sex with some ghostly chick in his dreams who left a rose on his pillow, blah blah gayness. Just in time for Halloween, I'm here to tell you that this is actually happening to me and believe me, it is NO JOKE. I moved into my apartment in August. It's a very old building in Murray Hill, a converted brownstone. My studio is pretty sweet - cool, old details, really pretty. I got the place for cheap, no fee -on Craiglist of course. The thing is, the girl moving out couldn't wait to get out of there. I was a little suspicious and looked around for something wrong, but didn't find anything bad about the place - until later.... I had a really hard time falling asleep in my new apartment. I chalked it up to stress, or unfamiliar surroundings. When I did finally doze off I began having really active dreams that are always about the same thing - a young man kissing me passionately. He has blond, tousled hair, and strong arms - I can't see his face, but sometimes he speaks or murmurs. he's pretty hot for a ghost or whatever the heck he is. (sad, isn't it? I need to get laid.) It feels very very VERY real - I can tangibly feel this person. I wake up freaked out that someone was in my bed with me or is in my apartment just hanging out. The weight and warmth of his body is palpable, on top of me, holding me down. Sometimes he is lying next to me in bed, sometimes carrying me away in his arms as if we're flying. sometimes we're in the woods or at the beach. It is always night in these dreams. We never do anything besides kiss - he just holds me tenderly and firmly, and strokes my hair and my skin. As I'm waking up he gets up from my bed and walks away, and I swear I can see him out of the corner of my eye wearing khakis and a golf shirt. Cool you think, right? WRONG. here's the scary part. A couple of times I've spoken to "him" as I'm waking up. Once I looked in his face lying next to me and said, "This isn't real." At that, the "face" I was speaking to or kissing or whatever melted into a dead, ROTTING SKULL. I screamed and it blew away to dust, and I woke up. Another time I thought he was in the apartment, in the bathroom. I called out, "hello? where are you?" At that I heard a raspity voice that sounded....indescribable, just howling. Like the sound of a train screeching to a halt. I opened my eyes, frozen, terrified. When I turned on the light, my cat was on the floor with her back arched, staring at the bathroom, hair standing on end. My cat is thoroughly freaked. Every now and then she'll just look at the headboard of the bed all weirded out, like she's stalking something, just slowly putting one paw in front of the other and quietly meowing. Whatever it is she's feeling, I feel it too. So last week, scary skull moments notwithstanding, I decided it was time for Mr. Ghosty McDeadguy and I to take the next step in our relationship. We were hanging out in a cabin in the woods. Looked like upstate new york. I could tell it was cold outside, but inside we'd built a fire and were making out. So I (forgive me) took it upon myself to, uh, perform oral sex on my dead date. At first it felt normal, and the murmurs gave way to flat out moans of pleasure...until suddenly, I looked again at what I was doing, and discovered I was fellating a black, rotting CORPSE. yeah. cut to me at 3 am, all the lights on, watching curb your enthusiasm on in demand until the sun came up, rocking back and forth. I've determined that it's time to address this head on. Obviously this dude has got something he needs to take care of in Murray Hill before he goes on to eternal life. Maybe he got takeout from the dirty chinese place, ate salmonella and got a call on the bone phone. Maybe he ripped the showerhead out of the wall because the water pressure was so bad, and gave himself a nice heart attack. Or maybe he bought it because he couldn't make it on the singles scene and now he just dates chicks who move into his place. How convenient. Wonder how many other babes he got with before me who've lived there. He really needs to move on. If that's the case, Hot, Dead Guy, hear this - it's your very own missed connection. Maybe now that you've finally gotten one you can go in peace. You: Dead, in my apartment. Blond hair, no face, about 6'0 and athletic build. Dude, we've made out about 57 times now but you still won't give me your contact information or your name. While it's definitely hot - I'm getting a little scared. You obviously have problems with intimacy to be freaking out the way you do every time we try to talk. What was up with the cabin the other night? You can't eternally hang out in my little apartment - I need my space too, you know. So let's figure out what's wrong and move on...because I'm really losing a lot of sleep over this. see ya - webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-10-27T15:47:54-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/107070471.html MC With The Hot Guy Who Died in My Apartment - w4m text The girls I have dated http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/105664235.html Ruthie - You were my first and you said I was yours(?). It was thrilling probably because it was new. Truth be told, I never would date you today. You are smart, but very needy. I don’t know why I still stay in touch with you. Claire Bear - You were very unattractive, but your sister was cute. And yet I chose to sleep with you. A pattern was starting to develop. Sorry if I caused a problem between the two of you. Hope things turned out OK. Barbara - My first slut. How many guys in the dorm did you do? Don’t get me wrong, you were great in bed, but it was a little unnerving every week seeing a different guy coming out of your room. You were smart and sassy - you should have respected yourself more. But thanks for the great Bjs. Mrs. Horn - I don’t even know your first name. But I don’t feel badly because I don’t think you even knew you slept with me after that New Year’s Eve party, you were so drunk Although you did insist I cum inside you. You know something funny, I ran into you a few years ago. I saw you down by the waterfront with your husband. I started chatting with you but you didn’t recognize me. You just thought I was a kind stranger. You’re screwed up. There are laws out there you know. I regret the sex even if you don’t. Guess I’ve changed a lot since I was 17. Judy - You were very unattractive. I slept with you because I thought that’s the best I deserved. I see now that I was lacking in self esteem. But still, you smelled wonderful and I think you are a good person. You could lose some weight, but it wouldn’t really matter because you would still be ugly. Sorry about pissing in your mouth. I liked it, but I don’t think you did. Kathy - My fellow lab intern. You met me one day and came on to me. You asked me over for dinner and we fucked. Can I tell you the truth, it was like a Seinfeld episode - I didn’t know your name. Yeah, you told me that afternoon, but I had forgotten. I had to check your time card the next morning in the lab. The sex was uneventful. I think you just wanted to betray some boyfriend. I didn’t really care. Allison - You are one weird chick. You are the shyest person I’ve ever met. Kinda odd seeing that your father is such a well-known bigshot. I don’t think you are a bad person, but so socially awkward. You need to read a romance novel or rent a sexy movie or something. You know, it’s OK to move while having sex. I got the sense you stayed so still because you didn’t want me to notice I was fucking you, for fear that I’d run out of the room. I dunno, maybe I would have. You’re academically very smart, now apply those brains to your personal life and stay away from people like me. Julia - I could write a book on you, but no one would believe it. You were filled with conflict. You were an anorexic who became fat. You were brilliant, yet flunking out of Grad School. You were a lesbian sleeping with a man. Oh, you so hated men and tortured them in much the same way that I began to realize that I hated women. Was that our bond? Anyway, the dialog was incredible - Art History, Mathematics, speaking French all the time. The sex was incredible too. You taught me everything. Unfortunately I later found out that you were teaching the whole dorm everything. Great sex, but such a bad person. Ug, the number of times I spontaneously showed up at your room, only to find your diaphragm was already in place. Yeah right: “I thought you might come over.” Can you tell me how many times I ate your pussy after a guy had creamed in it 2 hours earlier? Carolyn - You were so vulnerable. You would do anything to have a man in your life. You needed more self worth. Why would you sleep with me knowing Julia was in the room next door? Why did you let me finger you under the table knowing my girlfriend was sitting across from us. Yeah, I was beginning to realize what a dog I was, but you still allowed me to get away with it. All these years later, I looked you up on the interent and found you live with your mother. Time’s ticking. You gotta start standing up for yourself. BTW, the sex was terrible! Kathryn - What God sent you to me? I was a rat-assed, foul smelling dog. And you came along and believed in me. You were a virgin. You were the Valedictorian. You were such a skilled debater and writer. Sex with you started a little slow, but boy were you a good learner. I should have married you back then. I blew it. All my fault. As you could see from my history, I had a little problem respecting women. The undergrad psych major in you pointed to my mother. I think the scientific term you used was “psycho bitch”. I’m so sorry Kathryn that you got to see all that family stuff. You were the one. And I let you go. I know you still care about me because you’ll always call me on my birthday to wish me well. Last time, I heard you lie to your husband, telling him it was your brother on the phone. Thank you. Anne - You were Kathryn’s best friend since you were both 10 years old. Why would you let me seduce you? Yes, I take most of the responsibility, but why would you constantly come over and tell Kathryn all the sordid details about how you were cheating on your husband - all the details except the part where you were doing all this cheating with me, Kathryn’s fiancee. You’re as twisted as me. Think about that. In the evenings, after you were gone, Kathryn would excitedly retell the story of your naughty adventures that day. But she didn’t know the punchline, that the male in the story was her own boyfriend. Shakespeare couldn’t have come up with a more ingenious plot twist. BTW, the sex with you was the best ever. The dirty things you would say still make me come today. You are brilliant. Sick, but brilliant. Katie - You were a receptionist from Queens that I picked up at McSorelys. I was so angry that day. And just wanted to fuck somebody. You should really consider choosing better sex partners. Polly - I’m just not ready to say anything here. I’ll give this one sentence and then move on. You are my s****r and that should never have happened. Roberta - You are low-life trailer trash, but with a sparkly edge. If you had been born into privilege, you would have gone to Harvard and become a bigshot CEO. I hope good things happen to you. BTW, I still fantasize about that night we had sex in front of your friends. Wow! Tammy - All summer long you kept making a dumb joke about how the Hampton’s rule book says you must wait until after Labor Day. So the day after Labor Day I banged you and never called you again. Kinda wasted my entire summer - except that after I dropped you off each night and you’d give me that ridiculous kiss on the cheek while wagging your finger, “No, no no. Not until after Labor Day”, I’d go over and fuck Roberta’s brains out. I’ll bet you’re now married, living on Park Avenue and your husband hates you. Never want to see you again. “No, no, no. Not until after I’m dead!” ? - For 3 nights in a row, during that week after Labor Day - after everyone else had ended their season and gone back to New York City, I see you hanging around outside that Hampton’s bar at closing time, sitting on the fence post. You tried to make it look like you were waiting for your ride, but you fooled nobody. At first I thought you might be a hooker, but then I realized you were too unattractive for anybody to pay. By the third time I saw you there, I recognized the look - I knew you were just a desperate woman wanting to hear something that no one was ever going to be able to tell you. So I offered you a ride, spent about $5 at 7-11 to buy some beers and fucked you doggie style because I didn’t want to see your face. You were in need. I was in need. I never even asked your name. After I gave you a ride home, I went over the bridge and drove down Dune Road for maybe a mile. The road was deserted and dark. I pulled over and just sat there. I didn’t want to go back to the beach house. I didn’t want to go back to New York City. So I just sat there. I think maybe I wanted to cry - I didn’t - I haven’t cried since 3rd grade when my mother drove away. So no I didn’t cry. But I sat there until the sun came up. Alexis - After that crazy Hampton’s summer, I really began to hate myself. So I kept myself in lockdown and spent the next two years taking my work very seriously. No sex at all. Then out of the blue, I meet you on a elevator. You were a wonderful person. You were beautiful, funny and kind. Your pubic hair was magically soft. I just wasn’t ready to start again. Sorry. Wish you well. Jill #1 - You were an annoying Jap. You were ugly. Your tits sagged. Sex was atrocious! Hey, I know the saying is “Suck my dick” - but you took it too literally. Don’t just put it in your mouth and make a sucking sound. Oh...never mind...go watch a porn movie. Can’t believe I waited two years for this? And the 2nd time you came over, you brought your contact lens solution and 2 business suits! What? Who invited you to move in? I should never have fucked Alexis, because it re-opened the flood gates and you washed in. Jill #2 - You made me both excited and sad. You were constantly trying to get in with the right crowd. Get it into your head already: You are not attractive, they do not want you in their clique. You mother obviously drank when she was pregnant because you have that classic scrunched fetal alcohol symptom face. But you kept trying, to the point of desperation. My God! You went to an Ivy League College, but you’d suck your doorman if he got you into the right club. All that said, you did provide some wicked sex.. That time in the sand dunes when we fucked and that total stranger came up to watch and you started jerking him off. And that time in front of your sister? What the fuck was that? I probably jerk off to your memories more than anyone else. Fiona - You were the most boring girl I’ve ever endured. Who goes shopping for a pen? You want a pen, look between my couch pillows. There are a dozen pens in there. What a painfully dull bitch you are. And the sex was embarrassing. I cum on your face and you pat my back saying, “There, there. That’s OK. Accidents happen.” News flash, I came on your face to degrade you. And you react like a mother soothing a child with a scraped knee. You’re boring and you’re an idiot! Karena - I thought you were an exotic beauty from Turkey. But you were really just a bitchy Staten Island girl hiding in the exotic body of a foreign national. You had the most sexual look, but you had no idea how to use it. It was like a Ferrari was given to a 12 year old without a driver’s license. And maybe it was a cultural thing, but do you realize that I can pick out my own shirts? And I know how to choose an item from the menu. You were constantly trying to dictate everything. You suffocated me. I could have tolerated you more if the sex was better, but it wasn’t. I’m not surprised you are still single. Go back to Turkey and suffocate your own kind. Barbara - I met you at a party, two hours later, you stripped for me. You seemed neurotic to the point of flaky. You called me 2 months later to say you had an ovarian cyst and you wanted to know if I caused it? Yeah, I did - just after I disrupted the Earth’s magnetic field. Flake. Helen - That was gross, you had more facial hair than me. And you were such a whacko. Believing yourself to be an artist. Your art was shit. And your meditation. And the vegetarian thing. You were much older than me. I thought that could be fun. But you got off the bus in the ‘60s and stayed there. And what’s more, the sex was so dull and your apartment smelled like cat piss. Emily - You are the poster child of what can go wrong with long term use of prescription drugs. You are destined to forever be medicated. Here are some things you shouldn’t do: Don’t turn to the table next to us in a restaurant and ask if the fellow is done with his cake. I don’t know who was more horrified when you ate it, me or him. And don’t take a leak in a subway car. Even the homeless know how to hold it better than you. I can only image that was the drugs fucking up your frontal lobe. But I will say something kind about you. You loved it in the ass, “Yes, fuck me in the ass! Fuck me deep and make it hurt!” You were at least good for something. Page - All right, this is a bizarre one. You are smart. You are pretty. You are successful. But never ever should you sleep with a guy and then tell him the next morning that your last boyfriend died of AIDS. That was a dickish thing to do. I never wanted to go near you again. JoAnn - Picked you up on an Amtrak train. You were dull, but I went along on the ride for a while, mainly because I thought your mother was hot. I was actually hoping for a chance to bang her. She certainly had more personality than you. Hey, some sexual advice. It is not a lollipop. You don’t hold it by the stem and lick it. Go ask your mother. Elana - I had a live-in girlfriend at the time, so I couldn’t take you to my place. You had roommates who knew my live-in girlfriend, so we couldn’t go to your place. So I took the spare key to my girlfriend’s father’s apartment because I knew he only used it a few times a month. DAMN! That was so embarrassing - to find his potential son-in-law in HIS bed with a woman who wasn’t his daughter. I’m sorry about that. You seemed nice, but after that incident I just had to hide from everyone. Donna - You were on the cruise ship because you were afraid to take the plane to Europe. You took me to your cabin, but you were afraid of catching a disease, so we watched each other jerk off. That was hot. Too bad we never met up again. My guess was that you were afraid of too many things in life. But still, I loved that jerk off thing and have done it many times since. A lot of girls get into it. Thanks. Ellen - I met you at that party and we fucked later that night. And I got the definite sense you were using me to get back at some boyfriend. Don’t do that. That kind of behavior is reserved for pricks like me. Dr. Lisa - You are a doctor. And on the first date, you asked me to fuck you in the ass. Didn’t you learn anything in Med School about Safe Sex? Other than the ass part, you were dull. You kinda reminded we of someone who went to Band Camp. And what’s with the beret. You look like some 1970s graduate of the Lycee Francaise. You are such a dork. Kate - You were great. Smart. Good looking. Such a part of Grand New York, with your cocktail parties and benefit dinners. Remember that time you introduced me to your friend Anna? I talked to her for hours, exchanging stories. As she was leaving, I told her she should be a writer. She laughed. Later that night you told me her full name - Anna Quinlan. OK, I’m a jerk. I’m not sure why it didn’t work out with you. Maybe your family was too rich. People might have called me a gold digger. So I walked away. Sue - I lied to you. I just wanted to get into your pants and fuck you. And as soon as I did, I dumped you and made you cry. I didn’t really care. But I’ve always wondered though, why did you insist that we fuck in your roommate’s bed? Why did you insist I use your roommates vibrator on you? I think your a closet lesbian. Holly - You are a sexual weirdo. You take me home. I suck on your pussy til you come. Then you ask me to leave. Next date, same thing. So I asked our mutual friend, your ex. He said you did the same thing with him. I mentioned to our other friend in Seattle, same thing. You have some sexual baggage going on there, don’t you. But no matter, I didn’t really like you. I just wanted to see your pussy so I could talk to my friends about you. Lisa - Skinny as can be, red pussy hair and enormous tits. I still have that vision of you on all fours with me banging you from behind - you tits swaying, the size of bowling balls. I jerk off to you sometimes. Too bad you were a bitch. Mary Lee - You are that typical fat girl who over compensates by trying to be too social. And to be 33 and still a virgin. That is fucked up. Thanks for the BJ, but I just couldn’t be the one to pop your cherry. I heard that you lost the weight. That was good. Then I heard you died of cancer. That was bad. Sorry. Pat - You were Mary Lee all over again. Why do fat girls date me and then when I dump them, they lose 50 lbs and try to turn their lives around. I should market myself as a diet plan. But I loved the way you swallowed my cum. You really knew how to play with it. Donna - You were old, I was drunk. I should have just masturbated that night. But my mother was in the hospital and I didn’t want to be alone. I never think about you. Maura - You were so sexy hot. We went on a hike and you took your shirt off. And when we passed other hikers, you just smiled and said hello. So hot. Sorry I came inside you. I know that freaked you out. Mary - I think that car accident when you were 22 gave you brain damage. You were a math major in college, but 10 years later you couldn’t finish a fucking sentence: “I can. I can finish a - hey, is it rain- I’m sleepy.” I dunno, you were like a character from a Simpsons episode, saying off-the-wall things all the time, but not realizing how ridiculous they sounded to the rest of us. “Starsky and Hutch, that’s a kind of ice cream isn’t it?” And sex with you was like something from a bad tv sitcom. I’m banging your pussy. I’m staring at your beautiful face. I’m about to come, when you look deep into my eyes and say, “You know, tomorrow, I think I’ll wear that green dress with the brown belt.” Externally you were beautiful. Internally, I think your brain had turned to apple sauce. Regis - Ug. You are not in my masturbation fantasies. You are not in anyone’s masturbation fantasies. I thought I’d feel guilty about being your first. I knew when I popped you that I’d never see you again. But in the end, I didn’t care. Maybe you should get a tattoo or something. Anything that might give you the sex appeal you so desperately need. Kristin - I’m not sure what to say. I certainly can’t get mad at you. It was all my doing. You worked in the cafeteria in my office building. You had a strangely deformed face. Your chin was too long. Your cheekbones weren’t symmetrical. And you were overweight. I saw you leaving the building that day. I shouldn’t even have been there, but I didn’t want to go to the hospital and I didn’t want to go to the office. I took you home and we fucked. You know what I remember most about you? It wasn’t your twisted face. It wasn’t your sickeningly artificial childish mind set - “So I said to him I said, first of all, like ...whatever!” What I remember about you most was the disturbing image of removing you pants and seeing the inches of curly black pubic hair poking out in all directions from your hole-ridden panties. I’m guessing you didn’t have any visitors down there for a while and certainly weren’t expecting anyone that day. Maybe when you were 16, you kept yourself well groomed, thinking you might meet a nice man and have a relationship. But as the years went by and nobody called, you let yourself go. And here you were at 35 years old. Deformed and alone. Maybe you thought no man would ever see you naked again? You were almost right. I wasn’t a man. I was a sniveling, crying 3rd grade piece of shit. Just like Helen who got off the bus in the 60s and missed her connection back to the modern world - just like that - my mother threw me out of the car when I was 10 and left me there on that dark road all alone with no chance of finding my way home. Fuck you bitch. And like...whatever! *************** That’s it. Well, at least those are the ones I can remember. And now? Now, I don’t sleep with anyone. It has been 4 years, cold turkey. I dunno. Everytime some friend tries to set me up on a date, I have this flashback to that no-name girl sitting on the fence post outside that Hampton’s bar. The one I fucked, but didn’t want to see her face. I think of that girl and then politely decline the offer of a date. It sounds hard not to have sex, but actually, it’s just easier. You know what Kathryn would say - my true love who I should have married all those years ago - you know what she would say? She would wave her psych degree in my face and say, “When was the last time you slept with a girl? And when was it that your psycho-bitch mother died? Hmmm, what an interesting coincidence.” Yeah, I dunno. It doesn’t matter. I like my job. I like my friends. Maybe one day I’ll go on a date again, but no rush. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-10-21T12:30:18-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/105664235.html The girls I have dated text To the woman who danced in my pee and stepped on my heart. - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/103368114.html It all took place on a rainy Saturday night. I met you at a loft part and things were going smashingly well. You and I played the piano together, discussed music and all things hip until the wee hours of the morning. I don't know if you remember what happened next but we decided to leave the party together. We strolled along the streets together, continuing our witty drunken banter, knowing full well that we were destined for your apartment for activities of the naughty kind. But then I had to go ahead and ruin things by taking a leak . I regret this decision, as perhaps things would have ended up differently had I not felt the urge to piss on the dirty streets of New York. At first I was delighted you didn't seem disgusted by the call of nature but then... you did something so shocking that my sex drive went from a 10 to a 2 in a matter of seconds. You...uh...You danced around in my pee! Not only did you prance around in a stream of my urine but you cupped your hands in the puddle of pee I had just created and started splashing around in it. Look, I like freaky girls but this was a little bit too much for me to handle at 4am on a Saturday night in public having only known you for a few hours. So I freaked out a bit and as far as getting the necessary blood required to bone you was most definitely out of the question. So here I am, 3 days later, thinking...you know what? I'm down with pee. I'm down with your crazy pee dancing ways. So give me a wee shout and we can recreate the moment and I promise not to get all pissy about it. Only this time, I would appreciate a little R. Kelly music in the background for inspiration. I <3 you urine dancer...lets make this work. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-10-11T11:19:33-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/103368114.html To the woman who danced in my pee and stepped on my heart. - m4w text MC with three-legged guy in mid-town bathroom (& my dignity) - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/102163632.html okay, I've sunk this low. I'm posting on Craig's list to find I guy I watched pee in a men's room in a midtown bar. Can my life get any sadder? Well, here it goes. We "met" on Friday, when I made a joke about how unfair it was that you have such a short wait to pee compared to mine (the ladies room was OUT-OF-CONTROL), and you (jokingly?) offered me your spot in the men's room line. You had the most amazing green eyes, and I got so dopey looking at them I had to ask you to repeat yourself. And I, drunk as a skunk, took you up on it, and went right in when the next guy came out. (much to the surprise of the OTHER guy still using the urinal). When I came out of the stall, you were just getting to said urinal. Of course, (again, I was quite plastered), I thought you would like some company while you drained it, so I came over to talk to you. You were either really drunk, really tolerant, or really confident (or all three), cause you didn't miss a beat. I think I asked you your name and what you did, and I think you said something about opera(?), but I don't really remember. What I DO remember was drunken-open-mouthed staring at your massive, beautiful cock like a retard schoolgirl. I simply did not know that they came in that size. Holy crap. What I SHOULD have done is grab that big ol' handle of yours, pull you into the stall and get busy. I SHOULD have woke up this morning unable to pee, with a new definition of SORE... But even drunk as I was, what I DID do was: 1. get really embarassed, 2. try to wash my hands at a sink that clearly did not work, 3. make some muffled comment about my sister's dildo, (which was creepy AND made no sense) 4. hit myself in the face with the door on the way out, and 5. left the damn bar Not exactly the stuff of legend. So much for my penthouse forum letter. So I'm thinking, why not give myself ANOTHER chance to make a fool of myself? So, without ANY guarantee's that I won't turn bright red and run away... again... I'd love to meet you again, maybe for coffee? After all the stuff I just went on about, it's going to sound odd, but I really remember thinking that you were funny and nice. (It's got nothing to do with your eyes, hot body or third leg. Really. Not a bit. And yes, I am lying.) Well, I've now hit rock bottom. If this is you, and you aren't completely laughing at me or terrified, hit me with a response. Tell me the bar we were at, and what my shirt said ( I KNOW we talked about that... and you did a bit of staring yourself, young man... naughty naughty. tsk tsk.) I'll be the one over here under a rock. :) webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-10-05T19:40:31-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/102163632.html MC with three-legged guy in mid-town bathroom (& my dignity) - w4m text