Best of Craigslist

Best of Craigslist http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best postings from craigslist.org, selected by readers en-us Copyright 2008, craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best of Craigslist Collection 2008-06-03T09:36:36-04:00 2 daily I Cleaned Up Your Mess Today - again http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/705952196.html You decided that you wanted to move to an apartment that didn't allow pets (and by the way, landlords are forbidden to do this in Toronto). I don't know what lured you. Maybe it was a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Maybe it was a great view. Maybe you liked the woodwork. At any rate, it was more important to you than she was. So you took her down to the shelter, still wearing her cute little pink leopard collar with a bow, and you cheerfully wrote on the card that she was very healthy for her age and friendly and just likes to sleep in the sun! I guess you knew her pretty well - you put her birthday down on the card, too, making me believe you've probably had her for her entire life. Then you left, secure in your rationalization that somehow, in the midst of kitten season, your seventeen year old cat would find a home. The shelter took a picture of her scared face and big eyes and put it on the web. For two weeks, I looked at that picture. I hoped someone else would see her fear and feel compelled to help her, but the public wasn't seeing her. She was back in isolation, getting vitamin B shots and subcutaneous fluids. The tech wrote "depressed" on her card. I'm not surprised. I'd be depressed too if I went from "sleeping in the sun" to a metal cage with a thin layer of newspaper. Finally today, I couldn't stand it anymore. I felt too guilty thinking about her sitting in that cage at her age. So I went down and I got her, and now she's curled up on a fleece baby blanket in a cat tree in my bathroom. When I go in there, she rubs her head on my hand. Today, I cleaned up your mess. I felt worse for your cat than you did. And all over the city, other rescuers did the same. They rescued your abandoned cats and dogs and bunnies and exotics. And we all wondered the same thing as we did it: How could you create this situation? How is it that you feel no remorse? How is it that you were you able to walk away from an animal you shared your home with for a year, ten years, fifteen years, knowing that they might die because of your actions? I'll never meet you to ask you those questions. I just hope I meet the person who will be good enough to give your baby that sunny spot to sleep for the rest of her life (however long that is). She deserves it, and it's a crying shame you didn't have the decency to give it to her. This was originally posted in 2006. I am re-posting because the message hasn't sunk in! <ul> <li> Location: Everywhere <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-06-03T09:36:36-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/705952196.html I Cleaned Up Your Mess Today - again text I hate all of you http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/649999147.html I don't care what colour you are. I don't care where you're from. I don't care what you do for a living. I don't care what class you are, how you dress, what you smoke or drink or who you know or whom you've fucked. I hate you all. I hate every last living, breathing, snot and feces producing, promiscuously copulating, celebrity obsessed, opinionated one of you. From right here in Toronto right around the planet and back, coast to coast, nationwide and internationally. Every. Single. Last. One. Of. You. Fuck love. Fuck your insipid grasping at some abstract concept of chemical imbalances and reasonless actions, fumbling around in the crowd trying to find some cinematic supposition for real human interaction. Fuck lust, too. Fuck you all, from the lowlife dirtbags that think dropping trou and waving the little soldier in a sloppy arc is a pick-up line to the sniveling of the desperate 'nice guys' who never get the girl due to a total lack of testosterone grown stones. Fuck you all, from the crazy, under dressed sluts that judge a persons character by the price of their shirt, right down to the fat, flabby chicks that think personality is enough. Fuck you drivers, for thinking that a yellow light is a sign that says 'step on the gas'. Fuck you wheelmen and women that think it's okay to sit in a left hand turn in the middle of morning traffic, even though there is a protected left in the intersections before and after where you need to make your turn. Fuck you too cyclists - you're not exempt from the traffic laws just because your peddling, you miserable spandex covered neon reflective fucks. Fuck you too, pedestrians. Use the fucking crosswalk if you don't want to get hit, and use it before the little countdown clock says '3'. You don't have enough goddamn time to lope across four lanes of traffic. Fuck you chick on your cellphone. Fuck you attitude packed minimum-wager that makes my coffee. Fuck you cops that spend all their time handing out speeding tickets. Fuck you douche bag doing ten over the limit in the passing lane on the highway. Fuck you lady using exact change at the counter at the grocery store. Fuck you kids having a conversation in the doorway. And fuck you also for not getting the fuck out of your designated handicapped seat when a pregnant or elderly person gets on the fucking bus. Fuck taxes. Fuck welfare. Fuck the whole selfish, over politicized and party driven government system. I'm sick and fucking tired of policies and new laws with seven hundred bylaws that nobody but you and your cabinet reads. Fuck you councilors and your stupid 'district improvement' plans. Fuck you unions, for asking for so much and giving nothing more that what you already give. Fuck the whole process that allows people who are supposed to be working for us work for interests that only benefit the next campaign. Fuck your short-sightedness, your rush to the bandwagons, and your incessant arguing over fuck all. Fuck the parties, fuck the conventions, and fuck your campaigns. Do some real fucking work for a change. Fuck you bottles of water. You're water. You're not worth two fucking dollars. Fuck you trendsetters, fuck you fashionistas. Fuck your little dogs and and your idiotic outfits. Fuck your high heels in the snow. Fuck your five dollar coffees and your fifteen dollar veggie burgers. Fuck your health kick, your diet or your fucking new interest in kickboxing or sushi. Fuck your culture. Fuck your race. Fuck your sense of entitlement. Fuck your sense of uniqueness. Fuck you all for the belief that you have something unique and interesting to contribute. Fuck you for filling the internet with your useless garbage. Fuck your blogs, your wikis, your forums. Fuck your name calling. And most of all, fuck whatever you believe. It's all wrong. Fuck it. Fuck your complaints. Fuck your addictions. Fuck your dependencies. Fuck your pain. Fuck your tears. Fuck selling whatever it is you sell. Fuck your manipulation of others. Fuck movies. Fuck fucking. Fuck everything you own. Fuck your allergies. Fuck your stupid commons sense. Fuck your spelling and fuck your lack of education, or your ignorance, whatever is applicable. I don't give a fuck. Shut the fuck up and just get on with it. <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-04-20T23:50:32-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/649999147.html I hate all of you text Dear Winter: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/603845647.html I can't do this anymore. It's time for "us" to be over. We both know it. When I met you in November, I was totally into you. I'll admit that you helped me see the city in a totally different way. After a fall of rain and darkness, you made everything seem so fresh and new. Because of you I went skating, rekindled my love for hot chocolate, cozied up under piles of blankets and watch my favorite old movies, spent evenings in concocting great meals. You know how I love the sensuality of the simmering pots on the stove top. Christmas vacation was amazing, and I know that had a lot to do with you. Without you, none of those things wouldn't have happened. I know that. And it's not like those times weren't great. But it's time to move on. And you know why. For one thing, I'm starting to grow weary of the clothes you force me to wear. I have my own sense of style you know. And it doesn't include wearing every garment in my closet day after day. It doesn't include schlumping around in those horrible boots you insist on, either. I mean, give it a rest already! How about you let me wear a pair of shoes for a change? Or maybe even clothing that shows I'm a woman, and not an androgynous lump. I am SO over your tyrannical and unsightly fashion sense. Also, you constantly make me late. I mean, how many times have I been late for appointments, concerts, hell - even work? You're slowing me down. Even strangers - TTC operators, taxi drivers - have made comments to me about you. You must have heard them - you were right there when they said it! And still, you just don't care. I have to move at a faster pace than this. I can't have you dragging me down like this forever. And then there's your coldness towards me. There have been so many days in the past months when things have been great - my job, my friends, my family. And then WHAM - your coldness slams into me and chills me to the bone. When you do that, it makes me feel like I have nothing to live for. And we both know that's just not true! I can't continue to let you affect my outlook on life in this way. It's unhealthy, and I'm not putting up with it any more. What's more, my friends HATE you. They complain about you all the time. And whenever my family calls from BC, they ask if you're still hanging around. They're always surprised to hear that I haven't shaken you yet. I try to put you in a positive light, but nobody's buying it any more. Not even me. I don't want to be a jerk or anything. And after the fun times we've had, I hate to hurt your feelings. But you deserve to know that I've got my heart set on someone new. Someone who will let me wear skirts, and encourage me to get outside more often. Someone who will make me feel lighter and freer. My friends and family keep mentioning that this new relationship is just around the corner, if only I can get rid of you. So please. Stop tapping on my window. Stop showing up at my office after work. I'm moving on. <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Dumpsville. Population: YOU <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-03-12T12:28:27-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/603845647.html Dear Winter: text If the TTC was the 'better way' I'd have been at work 20 min ago http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/581289000.html An open letter to the riders of the TTC I know the TTC sucks, but please just stop being inconsiderate assholes because you are making it suck more. We already have to deal with happenings out of our control, short turns, detours, 45 minute waits in sub zero temperatures, fare hikes etc. youre making it worse, stop it. My feelings of hate can be expressed towards people who fall into the following 13 categories, a bakers dozen of douchebaggery if you will. 1) I dont care what youre listening to Headphones were invented for a reason, so not everyone needs to listen to the bullshit music you listen to. Im listening to my iPod too, but when I can hear your music over mine, we have a problem. And to whoever popularized the idea of downloading true tones that sound like shit then playing them over and over for everyone to hear. If I ever find out who you are I am going to kill you, and it will be a slow painful death, similar to how I fell when having to listen to Souldja Boy over and over again on a packed streetcar at rush hour. 2) Its called a shower bud Look, soap has been around for hundreds of years . . . there is no niche market for soap, its pretty much universal, well, except in your case. But for the love of god if you dont want to bathe do NOT come near me. There is a weird film all over you, and if you are close enough for me to see it you are too fucking close. No, opening the window does not help it just serves to circulate your stench so we can all now marvel in the wonder that is your body odor. I assume you have no friends because 1) If you did they would tell you to bathe 2) no one wants to be friends with someone who smells that bad. So please, be considerate, bathe or dont use public transportation. 3) Woman with giant dog You know who you are, and I know thats not dog, its a fucking bear. I get it that pets need to be on the TTC thats cool but please dont let him sit on the seats, trust me he doesnt mind the floor, he drinks from the toilet . . . or in this case the bathtub. AWW spike thinks hes people, yea thats great lady but could you get him off the seat next to me because Im afraid to give this dog anything that might be considered a bad look . . . 4) Video game kid I hate you. I hate you for creepily looking at that 13-year-old girl with her mom. I hate your dirty teenage stash and I hate that you are wiping your sweaty hands on your pants every 4 seconds. But mostly I hate that you are standing in the MIDDLE of the aisle with your headphones on playing fucking bomberman (who plays bomberman anymore?) completely oblivious to the fact that people need to get by. If you want to be an obnoxious fuckhead go sit in the corner. 5) The woman who wants a seat More specifically to the woman who wants the seat next to mine. Go away, its 6am, there are about 20 free seats in my line of sight but no, you want the one next to me. The one piled with my purse my lunch and my work clothes and my schoolbooks. What makes you think Im going to pile all this shit on my lap just so you can have this particular seat? The public transit system does not revolve around you asshat. Find another place to sit. 6) Inconsiderate business jerk Yes I see you in your suit with your murse, sorry, your European carryall I'm sure you are important and have many important business like things to do, however, I am also sure I dont give a shit. I understand you may need to take a call while on the streetcar it happens I get that but you do not need to call in to confirm your meeting at 9am, twice. If you were really that important wouldnt you be driving a car to work as to not piss me off? Also, see that woman standing next to that seat your in. Shes not just fat, shes pregnant, dont look the other way so you dont have to make eye contact and therefore dont have to feel obliged to give up your seat. I know you saw her, we all saw her, shes huge, and youre an asshole. 7) To the guy oblivious to those around him Hi, yea I guess you didnt notice me; Im the person whose face is shoved into your back. We are close enough for me to notice that you wear old spice (lame) but you still seem oblivious to my existence. I get that Im a small person, but come on take two steps forward so I can at least stand like a normal person instead of having to perform awkward foot contortions just to avoid falling over at every stop. Oh, and when I grab onto you because I dont want to fall on my ass. Dont give me a weird look, just move out of my fucking way so I can grab onto the pole. 8) To inattentive parents and their brats Oh yes look at your precious little one as he pulls my hair and screams for McDonalds. Isnt that cute hes figured out how to pull the cord so we now have to stop at EVERY FUCKING STOP. AWW isnt he smart. Seriously lady I was a camp councilor and your child is still the worst behaved little bastard Ive ever seen. You are the reason I believe you must have a license to breed. Maybe at home you let little Timmy climb all over the place but this is PUBLIC transit tell him to sit down before I kick him. This is not his personal jungle gym, if possible place him in a window seat then you can seat your oblivious ass in the aisle seat as to barricade the little monster in there. 9) Pole monopolizer You also fall into the category of oblivious asshole. Perhaps you do not notice the other people around you trying to shift their weight as to not fall over. Maybe you could move a little so we could share the pole? Perhaps you did not go to kindergarten . . . perhaps you are unaware of this concept of sharing. Its miraculous really, all you have to do is move the fuck over so I can grab the pole too. And to the people who lean on the pole, especially with their faces. I hope you put some Purel on that shit before you did that . . . 10) To those who exit at the front at major transfer points Ok maybe youve never actually ventured to the depths of a streetcar but there is in fact at least one alternate exit, use it! As per the signage you are to exit at the back, its really not hard, and in fact will benefit us all. See the group of people standing outside the streetcar waiting to get on? Those people have to wait at the front because they have to pay, not because they are wary of the stigma surrounding those who use the back door. I dont understand how this concept is difficult for you; did you not enter the front of the streetcar? Dont be a douchebag; its a major transfer stop get off at the back. 11) Movement inhibitors I understand that the streetcar is a complex transit vehicle. It goes, then its stops, opens its doors, closes them again then proceeds to go. Like I said, very complex. What you may not know is HOW the streetcar knows to go so let me lay down some knowledge. When you stand on the step the doors open so you can get out. If you continue to stand on the step the streetcar will think that you want to exit, thus, it will not go. So really this is not your fault but that of the oh-so intuitive streetcar. Bottom line; dont stand on the steps unless you want to exit the streetcar. If there is no room and you are forced to stand on the steps this is a sign that the streetcar is in fact full. I suggest you exit and wait for the next one before I kill you. 12) People who dont understand meaning of the word public Lets get one thing straight, this is not your living room, bedroom, kitchen or personal space of any kind. This is addressed to you; girl who takes off her shoes and stretches at as if about to take a nap. No one wants to smell your rank foot stench and no one needs to know you wear mismatched purple socks. Also I know that were all busy people and sometimes we need to eat on the go. But I also know that there are transit friendly foods, those that only require the use of one hand, come in some kind of cup or thermos, have minimal odor and can be eaten at rush hour without pissing off more then two people. There are a plethora of one-handed foods available in the city, try one. And for the record sushi is not appropriate transit food, although I am impressed with your mobile chopstick control. 13) Those in need of anger management First off, calm the fuck down. Yea you had a bad day and that person kind of bumped into you but Im pretty sure it was not intentional; then again you are a complete ass and probably deserved it, so I take it back. That guy in the brown coat was biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to make it look like an accident. And I get that short turning is a major pain in the ass, we are all annoyed but notice that you are the only one verbally expressing your anger. Do not get up and yell at the driver, do not spit at him or threaten to teach him a lesson because being a TTC driver and having to put up people like you for a living has given this man enough inner rage to tear us all limb from limb without breaking a sweat. Do not test him.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: 501 Streetcar <li> it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-20T23:52:46-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/581289000.html If the TTC was the 'better way' I'd have been at work 20 min ago text is this your pet? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/542869773.html Found in my laundry: One sockpet. Found when I got home from the laundromat at Harbord/Shaw about 2 weeks ago. Responds to the name Kafka; friendly, good with kids. We are happy to have him, but wonder whether he misses his original home and maybe his partner sock. If he is yours, please contact us.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Harbord and Shaw <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-01-17T22:47:03-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/542869773.html is this your pet? text FOUND: Canadian Tire $Money$ http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/477474651.html Brief case full of Canadian tire moneyone Dollar bills very neatly bundled up with those fat purple elastic bands generally used for broccoli. Also, blueprints for some kind of under ground bunker. The only other thing in the briefcase was a mini Etch-e-sketch on a key chain. No judgments people! So if you can correctly answer at least 2 of the questions below; you must be the rightful owner and I will gladly return the case & contents to you. 1.What is the name of the country where the broccoli was grown? (they are all the same elastics) 2.Can you describe the case? (color, texture, handle(s) etc) 3.Address of the proposed bunker 4.Bonus points if you care to tell me what the heck you are up to with this much Canadian tire money, who do you know in the broccoli biz, and just generally WTF?!? I hate Canadian tire so I have no use for this money, Im just not sure what else to do, so please come get your funny money. P.s. if this is some kind of weird Canadian tire mafia thing, I dont want any trouble eh?   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Lakeshore <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-13T10:36:43-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/477474651.html FOUND: Canadian Tire $Money$ text Really need help. MUST GO!!! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/467152147.html Please help! After two long years of being on a waiting list for a dog, we have been notified by breed rescue that, at long last, our number has come up and ... WE ARE HAVING A PUPPY! We must get rid of our children IMMEDIATELY because we just know how time consuming our new little puppy is going to be and it just wouldn't be fair to the children. Since our little puppy will be arriving on Monday we MUST place the children up for adoption this weekend! They are described as: One male -- his name is Tommy, Caucasian (English/Irish mix), light blonde hair, blue eyes. Four years old. Excellent disposition. He doesn't bite. Temperament tested. Does have problems with peeing directly in the toilet. Has had chicken Pox and is current on all shots. Tonsils have already been removed. Tommy eats everything, is very clean, house trained and gets along well with others. Does not run with scissors and with a little training he should be able to read soon. One female -- her name is Lexie, Caucasian (English/Irish mix), strawberry blonde hair, green eyes quite freckled. Two years old. Can be surly at times. Non-biter, thumb sucker. Has been temperament tested but needs a little attitude adjusting occasionally. She is current on all shots, tonsils out, and is very healthy and can be affectionate. Gets along well with other little girls and little boys but does not like to share her toys and therefore would do best in a one child household. She is a very quick learner and is currently working on her house training. Shouldn't take long at all. We really do LOVE our children so much and want to do what's right for them. That is why we contacted a rescue group. But we simply can no longer keep them. Also, we are afraid that they may hurt our new puppy. I hope you understand that ours is a UNIQUE situation and we have a real emergency here! They MUST be placed into your rescue by Sunday night at the latest or we will be forced to drop them off at the orphanage or along some dark, country road. Our priority now has to be our new puppy.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-02T17:03:00-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/467152147.html Really need help. MUST GO!!! text Women's Restroom http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/416156951.html just sharing. When you have to visit a public restroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't-so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance". In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance". To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday-the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backwards against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lost your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper-not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get." By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet papet trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this." As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public restrooms. It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Toilet Seat <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-09-07T08:47:07-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/416156951.html Women's Restroom text Advice for the guys who insist on posting pictures of their penis http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/416052606.html Having read some of the posts in Male seeking Female for casual encounters, I am quite befuddled and saddened by how many penises were attached to said posts. I'm not sure how many times it can be said, but obviously, worth repeating over and over again until penises become detached from their posts: do not post pictures of your penis! Things to keep in mind: 1. Your penis is not a piece of art; it is not attractive on its own. 2. You are not creating a fantasy: women do not look at penises, like shoes, and say "I need to have that" 3. A picture of your penis says that you are reluctant to show your face; unless she will be buried in your cock for the entire duration and you blindfold her on the way in and out, it will matter. 4. Eventually, you will have to send her a picture of your face, at which point you will not receive further emails from her. 5. If you're posting a picture of a penis, you clearly never had sex because you know a penis isn't the most important thing! You can't sell yourself via a penis. The penis has a walk on role; it doesn't even has lines. It comes in maybe 1 hour and 30 minutes into an 1 hour 40 minutes movie. Yeah, by the end you're excited to know what happens, but that's only because you already sat through the 1 hour and 30 minutes (pending it was satisfying). I've seen many people walk out on movies, you know, before they end. I'm sure many men have experienced this; you meet and there's definitely attraction, then you make out; take off your clothes and hers; maybe you go down on a girl; and then she says she doesn't want to have sex. This is because you were awful. You screwed up somewhere along the line. If you were good to her, you get to show her your penis, if you were terrible at satisfying her, she will be tired. What you should post: 1. a picture of your face and body or none at all 2. a description of yourself, beyond the physical aspect 3. Probably more enticing if you add a description of what you would like to do to her By the way, most decent looking women and men go to bars to pick up. You know, the "I met this guy last night at the bar, we danced all night and he was hot. Then we went back to my place." NOT "I saw this guy's penis on CL last night and thought I should email him because I've extrapolated from his penis that he's probably attractive and a fun guy". Good luck  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: everywhere <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-09-07T01:41:01-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/416052606.html Advice for the guys who insist on posting pictures of their penis text LOST - A lululemon sports bag with... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/386288043.html my gym clothes my gym runners my PDA my vibrator I'll appreciate if it is returned. I'll pay $100... Or, if anyone found it, read this post, and still decided to keep the bag... take that vibrator and... go f*** yourself. Thanks to the rest. Laura   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Yonge and Eglinton <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-07-31T16:55:51-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/386288043.html LOST - A lululemon sports bag with... text Do you feel lonely or empty? - 18 http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/353298327.html Because I can change that completely. I don't care how old you are, or how attractive you are, because I'll like you anyway. Genuinely like you. I like most people. Seriously. My cut-off age is like... let's say seventy. That's a bit too old. Below that is fine. Fat is welcome, but I have to say morbidly obese grosses me out. Obesity is defined as being 30 pounds overweight, and I'm fine with that, but I'm afraid the seriously overweight won't do. Sorry. Best of luck on losing weight to those people, though. Uhm. I'm not sure how to begin explaining what I want, or if this is in the appropriate section. I'll post it to a few other sections that are related just in case. But, to begin with, I suppose I need to say I'm looking for a man who wants the company of a cute young woman on a regular basis. I'm not currently in Toronto, but I'm looking to move there, hopefully by the end of July. I don't want to live alone, and instead of moving there then looking for roommates, I want to go from point a to b right away. B being with a guy who'll enjoy my company. My regular company and my romantic company. A live-in boyfriend type, you could say. This is going to sound desperate, because it is, but I don't care if you have roommates, or if you live in a small house/apartment. I'll sleep on the floor, the couch, the bathtub, or with you if you like. I'm not picky and I don't complain. I'm totally humble, meek, and unobtrusive. But some say quite funny. You don't have to take me out or celebrate anniversaries like you do with people you date. I would feel more comfortable if it was more low-key and laid back. Cause it's more comfortable that way, right? I don't expect you to exclusively see me; I'm not a big supporter of monogamy, so see as many other girls you like. If you just want a girl to live with and not be romantic with, that's fine too. I won't be insulted. And I'm quite quiet, so you won't even know I'm there, really. I don't really have any bad habits. I'm not addicted to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, but I'm not uptight, I don't care if other people use them. I think people can make their own decisions. I also don't eat much. So basically, I'm cheap and easy. I do wish that didn't make me sound bad. So, the thing is, I don't have a lot of money. I'm actually pretty poor, but as soon as I move, I'll get a job. I'll get three jobs, swear. If I don't you can kick me out and I'll live on the streets until I get one. I'm easy to get rid of if you change your mind. I'm not a leech. I'm very independent. This move is actually me trying to balance out having independence without isolating myself. Because I'm alone all the time. I can't take it. So I need someone to take me in. Like a pet. Well, except you don't have to feed me or clean up after me or pay attention to me. I guess more like a house plant? A cactus, maybe? I dunno. I suppose I'm cactus-like. But cuter. I'm completely serious. I know someone out there must feel lonely, and wish there was a nice girl to come home to, to talk to or care about them. I'll do the cooking and the washing-up. All the housework as well as work at as many jobs I can handle. All the money goes to rent, bills, etc. It's like having a roommate or a live-in girlfriend but without the stress. I won't cause stress, promise. I'll relieve stress on a regular basis. I give great massages, head rubs, hand jobs, blow jobs. Did I really just put that? Yeah. You won't be getting nothing out of this. I'm very appreciative to anyone who would let me stay with them. But I'm not a whore. I'm actually a virgin. Those things I mentioned, yeah, I'll do them, as often as you like, but I won't go all the way. Weird phobia, I guess. But that's why I don't care if you go around with other girls. I understand men have needs, and I can only do so much to meet them. It's not normally a one-woman job. Hence why monogamy doesn't always work out. Anyways, if you do feel lonely, but don't know if I'm a good match for you, reply back and I'll answer any questions. I guess I can give a little personal info here; I hope you find it useful. I like Doctor Who, Black Books, Bright Young Things and Snatch. Neil Gaiman is my hero, and I like a lot of bad music, so I won't list that here. I love comics, or graphic novels. I'm new to them, but I really like Gaiman, Warren Ellis, and Alan Moore. I read x-men scans off the internet. So, basically, I guess I'm a huge geek. I'm 1337, but I can't fix your computer. I know a little french, but not enough to hold a conversation in it. Hopefully I can brush up on it in Canada. One of the reasons I want to live in Canada is because I love cold weather. I'm sure I'll complain about it come winter, but I miss it, having been in North Carolina for thirteen years. I come from up north though, New York, near the border to Canada. So I don't have a southern accent; the only time you'll here me say y'all is to say that I never say y'all. ((Also, if you need more pictures, let me know. I have bajillions of them. Body shots are hard to get; I always suffer from slightly-out-of-focus or head-cut-off ness. You can see those of course, but for those curious now, here are my stats: 36 bust, 27 waist, 36 hips; hair: orange; eyes: green; height: 5'6''; weight: 130; athletic: engages in track, lacrosse, kick boxing, and softball. I can kick ass, but I choose not to, because I'm passive, and I know violence isn't right. I don't yell. I don't have a bad temper at all, despite what you've heard about redheads. I'm an optimist. Some people find that surprising due to how much black I wear.))  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-06-16T02:51:02-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/353298327.html Do you feel lonely or empty? - 18 text The way you litter tells a lot about you.... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/341954441.html I live in a townhouse with a bus stop out front, consequently every Saturday morning I turn into "Garbage Girl". Picking up litter for at least 30 minutes (on a good day). Since the weather has been nice I've sprayed the city sidewalk that runs in front of my yard three times this past month. I'm tired of it, but it will never stop...note to self....do not fall for the line "bus stop at door" ever again, it's NEVER a good thing! I am a 27 year old hard-working, single successful woman. I didn't sign p to be a garbage woman!! Over the past 6 months (ever since I bought my place) whenever I am cleaning up other peoples leftovers I've come to a few realizations.....1) People are inconsiderate assholes 2) People are lazy...there is a garbage bin right beside the pole that says "BUS STOP" you know, three feet from where you just threw down that gum wrapper. 3)50% of people know that littering is wrong, the other 50% either don't know or don't give a shit. 4) The way people litter tells a lot about that person. 5) The way people litter has a lot to do with how they have/feel about sex too. 1. Rippers- you...you pesky little shit heads....you like to rip up your litter into tiny little pieces and then throw it down making it impossible to clean up quickly, if you're going to litter just THROW IT DOWN!! For fuck's sake...I have to pick up 10 small bits of your transfer with my hands instead of just using the rake. And yeah, it takes me 10X longer. Please STOP. I think "rippers" are anal retentive angry people that have no control over their lives and like to make people suffer. They might also have ADHD or be bi-polar. Sexually I think they are "quick off the draw" if they are male. If they are female they just want you to get it over with because they can't have the big "O" 2. Hiders- you...you guilt ridden fuck heads...just use the bin, you'll feel better. In the winter you buried it under the snow so I had about four hours of spring cleaning when the snow melted. Now that the nice weather is here you hide it beside the light post...HELLO I CAN STILL SEE IT!! So can everyone else...you people KNOW that littering is wrong, otherwise you wouldn't try to hide it. I hope you wake up in the middle of the night and think about it. Just because you hid it doesn't mean it isn't there, I still have to pick it up. I think "hiders" are pretty insecure, and they are liars. I bet they 'tsk tsk' when they see others littering. I bet they don't pick up their dog doo-doo unless they know someone is looking. They probably don't admit to masturbating either...total fakes...then men use the line "This has never happened to me before" and the women just fake it...because "girls that like sex are sluts" 3. Machismo's-you disrespectful ignoramuses ....these type of people just toss their shit because they think the world owes them something. The bully's of littering culture. Often they are young men that think they are too cool to follow the rules of society. They don't have any remorse for their action either....the non-nonchalant way they just toss it, sometimes even while I am out there raking up the mess. When confronted they leave...some pick up what they threw down and meekly stand there looking stupid, others just ignore me and walk down to the next bus-stop leaving their debris behind. Sexually, oh let me guess....the men think they are God's gift to women but haven't made their woman cum...EVER, the women think they are God's gift...they don't put in any effort because they think they look so good they just need to be there. Selfish egomaniacs..this group. This has turned into a life lesson that has taught me the following.... people who litter are not nice people. So I will never date, have sex with, marry or be friends with litterers......I never really thought about it but my worst relationship was with a guy that used to throw his litter out the car window....I used to cringe when he did it. My best relationship, a considerate guy that kept his garbage in his pocket or hand until he found a proper place to put it..he recycled too! Dang it...too bad he moved back to Sweden!!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: cleaning up your mess <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-31T11:56:20-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/341954441.html The way you litter tells a lot about you.... text Missed Connection with My Boyfriend http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/340420484.html Dear Boyfriend, Its me, your soon to be ex-girlfriend. We havent been dating very long bf, and for the most part things are going great. But I have to tell you, your weekly freak outs are getting on my nerves. I realize that ALL of your girlfriends in the past have cheated on you. You have only mentioned this a hundred times. Maybe its because youve only dated 21 year olds. Huh?? Ever think of that?? Youre 30; of course they are going to cheat on you. Im not 21, FUCK Im barely in my 20s anymore. STOP ACCUSING ME OF CHEATING ON YOU. You have no fucking idea how annoying it is. Every single week its something new that Ive done to make that little head of yours go into overdrive and start thinking Im up to something. Im not up to anything. Im at home, not at a bar (although I used to be). Im sitting my sweet little ass in my little apartment, so Im not making you crazy thinking Im out gallivanting. Heres the truth: I come into contact with about 50 men a day. I work in an office, I cant help it. 90% of them are old and gross like I tell you. But, the other 10% are kinda hot. Okay not really hot, but office hot. (Office hot, is when hes the god of the office, but in the real world you wouldnt blink twice at him). Those 10% Ive worked with for many years, let me tell you, if I havent fucked them already, Im not going to. I have a certain goals for myself career wise and being the office bicycle isnt one of them. Before I met you, I was a single gal out in the city, in that time I made many acquaintances, some yes I have nailed, and some I havent. The ones I fucked, I no longer talk to. The ones I havent, still email me from time to time. Again, if I havent fucked them, Im not going to. My life cant stop because you have suddenly appeared. Stop questioning who HE is. HE is a friend. (Ill note now, that many of the male friends I had, suddenly stopped talking to me once you were the boyfriend, so that already weeds out the good from the bad) And when I tell you someone is gay. Im not making it up. HES GAY. And therefore has never had any interest in me, so fuck off. Im sure there are few men that I have regular contact with me, that do indeed want to tear my clothes off and have their way with me. Doesnt mean I am going to let it happen. Hell the homeless guy on my corner tells me Im beautiful every day, this doesnt mean Im going to be sitting on his face tonight. Get over it. Im dating you, which would mean Im not interested in anyone else. Take a step back, you think Im hot, that doesnt mean everyone else does. Well, I must say Im pretty high on myself too, but it does not mean Im nailing every loser in sight. I really like you BF, but youre incessant accusations are driving me up the fucking wall. One day you might just push me to the brink I will nail someone just to know that Im getting accused of doing something I actually did. Xox GF   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-29T11:16:21-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/340420484.html Missed Connection with My Boyfriend text re:young killers http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/339726701.html Is some young homeboy punk the real problem? Where are the parents? I mean really? Whose raising these kids? If my son came home talking about shoot em up and bitches and hoes, I'm not saying to my self "awwww, it's just a phase" I'm taking the little punk, I'm taking away his "gangsta" clothes and his gangster music and seein' how cool his homeboys figure he is without his bling. That doesn't work...well then I'm moving, and I don't mean a 30 minute bus ride away so the homies can reunite, I'm talking AWAY. Far away. "Oh, but my job/house/friends/etc" F@ck it. This is your kid. This is your blood. Nothing is more important then teaching them now. When they're young. I know. I was a punk. A pretty bad one too. Ya I got the beats for being bad. Got juvie for being bad. Got yelled at, thrown out whatever you can name. None of it helped because at the end of the day, no matter what the punishment, I was thrown back into the pack of wolves. And in that pack, the punishments just increased my rank. Made me "cooler". If someone removed my dumb ass from the situation and actually took some time to teach me what being a man was all about, it might not have took me so long to figure it all out. I know, I'm gonna get blasted. How dare I blame the parents, right? Well, who the hell else is supposed to be installing values, morals, self respect and honor in our kids? I go to the playground everyday with my kid. Every kid there knows my name, and no, it's not because I'm so cool. It's because day in and day out, I'm the only parent there. Surrounded by kids as young as 7 who are absolutely starving for adult attention. Starving for someone to say this is right and this is wrong. This is how you throw a football, this is how you ride a bike,or no, you don't talk like that or hit girls or a million other things. How can we expect our children to do well in life if we're passing the buck of raising them to tv trash, video games, overworked teachers with way to many kids and ofcourse our favorite...rap stars. (Ya I know, homeboys...save your rant about it being just music. Murder, rape, drugs, crime, violence etc is not "just music".) So call me whatever you want, I'm the last guy to have love for the "gangsta's". But keep in mind, they were all born innocent. If a huge portion of the young population are turning bad it's not because there's something in the water. It's because we're failing, and it's up to us to stop it. Put down the remote/keyboard/phone/whatever. Get off the couch or out of the office. Stop taking all that "time for yourself you so desperately need" and go outside and spend some time with your kids. I know you're tired. Deal with it. I know it's been a long day. Deal with it. I know they want to be left alone. Make them deal with it. The day you became a parent you stopped being number one. Your wants and desires are insignificant to the task at hand. You'll have time to deal with that in eighteen years when you've lived up to your responsibilities. The most important thing in your life is your child. So suck it up, stop all the bullsh*t excuses and get out there and be a parent. Oh, and this is a rant...not an argument. I'm not going to be rebutting anyone who calls me an idiot or wants to fight just to fight. It is a rant. It is what I feel and believe in my heart, plain and simple. Love your kids, the "bad" ones need it the most. Cheers   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: ThatDamnGuy <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-05-28T09:54:26-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/339726701.html re:young killers text I spilled grandma on you around spadian station - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/291325470.html You: unsuspecting lonley sad looking boy on subway Me: Girl with blue Urn I spilled my grandmother on you, im sure you remember, If you see this we should do lunch...this time without grandma  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Annex <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-03-09T18:15:37-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/291325470.html I spilled grandma on you around spadian station - w4m text So Here's The Situation http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/279968757.html I am a very attractive Spanish/Canadian woman in my mid-twenties. I have the classic mediterrenean look. I have the face of Catherine Zeta-Jones, tanned complexion and have been told by many that although my breasts are a little bigger than average they are quite nice. I graduated university only recently, and have a decent job. However, I have a dilemna......as attractive as I am, the biggest problem I have is holding onto a guy. It is not because I have mental problems or anything, I am quite sane, but there is something that I can't control...see...I have bad gas. I blow really enormous farts all the time, and for the most part they stink really badly. This is just my luck, I am a totally attractive woman, but eventually a guy will find out, that I blow big farts on a regular basis, and they stink horribly. There are probably some guys reading this saying how they can get past all of that, but before you e-mail me let me give you some examples of how my farting can compromise things. Just two weeks ago I was at Schmooze, and I met this cute guy, he bought me drinks, and then next thing I know I am making out with him on the dance floor. He didn't know about my farting problem on the dance floor cause all the cologne and perfume that everyone was wearing I guess masked it. It wasn't until we went to a bathroom stall to makeout that my secret slipped out. There he was one hand on my breast, and the other on my left ass cheek, and I let out this unbelievably loud fart, and he opened his eyes, stepped back, and passed out. My farting can interfere with sex too. I mean think about it, there you are taking me from behind, when all of a sudden, you hear this Tuba-like sound coming out of my ass, and there it is for you, the Chili we had at dinner. Even just sleeping bed could be problematic, there you are trying to fall a sleep, and I am right next to you tooting like there is no tomorrow. My farting has been a problem in my current job. Poor Marilyn, the middle aged woman that sat next to my desk is on extended sick leave. It's a good thing they invented Febreeze, I go through about a bottle a week. Other than that, I am intelligent, funny, cultured and well travelled. I am a lot fun to be with, and think that I would make a good companion. So if there are any guys that are interested, and can get past my farting problem, or at least are willing to make a genuine attempt, e-mail me...your pic gets mine.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Junktion <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-16T21:26:16-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/279968757.html So Here's The Situation text To the annoying skag at my work http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/245020660.html Do you ever work? Because it seems like you are always just flitting around, pausing at the desks of your "pals" (all men) to stop and sigh and huff, and talk about your favourite subject... your own boring, self-centered self. I'm lucky that one of these pals sits directly beside me (me, who you have never bothered to speak to) so I am forced to endure your retarded diatribes day after day. It's not like the job doesn't suck enough already. I definitely love having little "you moments" to listen to. My only saving grace is the guy who sits on the other side of me, who hates your ass as much as I do. It's not only that you look like a complete moron. Your little pigtails are so sweet and special. They really give you that "alterna-chick" look you're going for. And yes, we noticed that you just dyed your hair again last night; and not just because you've pointed it out, loudly, to everyone in the place repeatedly this morning. It's because we see your sloop-postured ass walking around the room all fucking day, while somehow the rest of us are actually WORKING. I love your little hoodies and sneakers, you really are so different from the rest of us. Too bad the makeup you wear doesn't cover your old acne scars and your face is taking on a nice little wreath of beer blubber from the endless nights of drinking that you inform everyone of, all the time, all the day, all the constant unending hours of listening to your shit while you drape yourself over the guy sitting next to me. "What am I? 15 and goth again?" Ooooh, nice use of the word "again", slyly bringing our attention to the fact that when you were 15, you were trying out "cool styles" and were different, even then! You may not be 15 and "goth again", but you're still the same vapid skank you were back then, I'll wager; desperate for attention and full of fascinating stories about your lack of sex life, punctuated by self-pitying sighs. Oh, and be sure to keep reminding us how "bored" you are, because personally, this job is so satisfying and fun. I'm having a great time here, and you're sooo hungover and bored! How gripping and different from the rest you are! Oh, and make sure we all know you have a tongue ring. Again and again. I remember when I first got hired here and I saw you. I thought maybe you'd be a nice person. That was until I realized that you want to be surrounded by guys who all think you're "cute and quirky and soooo different from the rest!" You are a nasty bitch who talks more about herself than anyone I have ever encountered. Did you notice that every single sentence you say begins with the word "I"??? It's becoming absurd. I can't take it. And could you ignore me any more deliberately? Ooooh, you "dislike me" for some reason. I don't know what that reason is, aside from maybe the fact that I also have a vagina. Honestly, I don't care. I was indifferent to you, until you started pointing out that you're a "tomboy" and any other cute words you choose to describe yourself. You're a tomboy, huh? That's so interesting. You must be such a fun girl, oooh, what a little tomboy you are! You are so fucking annoying. You were talking the other day about how you've decided to put together a collection of songs to make a "soundtrack for your life". I have some suggestions; are there any songs called "Annoying fucking bitch" or "Stupid idiot ass hat"? WHo the fuck makes up a soundtrack to their life, and then walks around work telling everyone about it? I'm so happy the Foo Fighters represent your loss of virginity. I came into work this morning hoping for just such a tidbit about your fucking personal life. Did it ever occur to you that the thought of you naked (and no doubt still blathering about yourself) would make people actually want to vomit? Of course, the only time you have ever had sex was probably that glorious night; I can't imagine any guy wanting to hang out with your sick ass any longer than the 2 seconds it would take to deflower you. Hey, maybe you actually shut up for that 2 seconds and that's how it happened. Please, please cut it out. Go away. Go do some WORK. Stop drinking so much, I'm sick of hearing about your nights out, and then the intensity of your hangovers. It's lame. You're lame. You're retarded. Good for you, you drink. You dye your hair. Yes, you have a tongue ring. I know. You're so very different from the rest of us, your trials in life so much more difficult, your personality so unique, your interests so unusual. Fuck off please. Go drink at Velvet Underground or whatever alternative club you feel most "at home" in. JUST FUCK OFF.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-12-06T14:04:34-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/245020660.html To the annoying skag at my work text Open Letter to Toronto Subway Transit Riders http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/242045021.html Okay, now I know a lot of you are from out of town and still getting used to the transit system. I imagine it is a transition from getting a lift in your dads F-150 pickup truck or riding a donkey to market to riding in a big shiny new train. Do I sound condescending? Well, I yes I am. Tough shit, I am born and bred T.O., so here are some pointers when riding the subway in my hometown. 1)Door Rushing: Let people get off the train before you get on. Yes, Red Rover was one of my favourite games in grade school too but at 7 in the morning its a bit much. We are all grown up now and should have a basic grasp of the logic of dynamic flows. People get off, THEN people get on. 2)Backpacks: Yeah you know who I am talking about. You, that guy with the mountain climber sized backpack stuffed full to the brim waddling onto the subway like some drunk-ass bear whacking everyone within a 3 foot radius of you. Take the fucking thing off asshole!!!! All of you who feel its necessary to fully strap on a backpack while in the city seem to forget you are wearing one while amongst a crowd. Get some fucking awareness of the world around you. You are no longer among the wide open spaces of Bumblefuck, Ontario. 3)Baby Strollers: Whats with the SUV baby strollers? Are you going to take your little bundle of precious DNA on a Himalayan expedition? WTF??? If you insist on pushing your kid around in a Hummer version of a baby stroller THEN AT LEAST PLEASE DO NOT PARK IN FRONT OF THE DOOR!!!! Lady, your kid may be centre of your universe but everyone else does not give a shit. Make room. 4)Loungers: The subway is not your living room. Plant your ass in one seat and be considerate enough to the other passengers (especially the elderly and enfeebled) by not sprawling out across three seats as if its a couch. The subway is not British Airways Admiral Class with sleeper seats, its public transportation. 5)Spitting: There is nothing to be said about this. Its just disgusting and you, (yeah you, you little white suburban wannabe ghetto rap star), ought to be forced to rub your nose in your own spit, much like a puppy that shit on the rug. You think it makes you tough, although I get the feeling that if you found yourself alone at night at Jane and Finch you would start crying for your mommy. 6)Headphones: You have headphones on. Do you really need to listen to your music at full volume with full bass? Turn it down a little for Christs sake!!! Why force everyone to listen to your personal taste in top 40 shit? And how are you going hear what the customer says when they tell you what they want on their burger? 7)Finally, just pay the fucking fare! This isnt Istanbul! $2.75 is $2.75 so just pay it and stop trying to bargain with the ticket collector. And you, the 400 lbs asshole who was yelling that the turnstiles were too narrow, do some fucking aerobics and then maybe you wont have to walk through the cargo gate. Thats it, thank you and if I missed any other rules please feel free to add them on.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> Location: rants &amp; raves <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-11-30T09:59:41-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/242045021.html Open Letter to Toronto Subway Transit Riders text To the person who left a note on my door this morning http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/240321826.html Dear neighbor: Thank you for your kind note on my door this morning. It was a thrill to leave my house at the crack of ungodly and find your beautiful note, written in that flowery European trill of a handwriting you've so fastidiously cultivated. All sugar coating on a letter reeking of vitriol and bile. I haven't figured out which of the eight of you on my floor it is, but I have a pretty good idea. Your note complained about the "slamming" of cabinet doors in my kitchen. For which I apologize. In this old building, there is no way to close those doors without some degree of sound being produced. I live alone. There is no lover's-spat-related slamming that goes on. I'll try to be more careful. Now that that apology is out of the way, a few things. 1. Anonymous notes? Yeah...they're pretty cowardly (unless they're accompanied by a box of chocolates, of course. That changes things). You have an idea who might be causing that horrific slamming noise you heard. But me? I'm pretty much the recipient of a one-way conversation. 2. Come to think of it, you had a note on my door, the DAY after i moved in. It started, "Welcome, new neighbor." And then it complained about--surprise!--slamming doors. One day! Impatient, are we? This note was anonymous, too. I sense a pattern. Is this how you relate with men? 3. If this IS who I think it is, you antisocial french girl and your crazy boyfriend who live right next to me, then PLEASE. Be careful when you're rut-rutting in your little apartment. If the walls are thin enough for you to hear my slamming, they're thin enough for me to hear you getting slammed. There's nothing less appetizing than eating a nice dinner of pasta with vodka sauce and a little bit of icewine, and having it ruined with images of exactly what's causing the moans, shrieks, wails, and splashes I can hear just opposite my walls. Really. I wish I could admit to a prurient titillation from hearing this. But I can't. Not with the two of you. 3. This goes for your gawdawful music too. I'm sorry that you've been inculcated with the north american doctrine of music-by-committee, but R&B has little original R in it these days, and MUCH less B. The same is true with hip-hop, which is neither hip nor particularly hopping. But, hey. That's just my taste in music. I don't subject you to Kenna or Death Cab or any of those others...I recognize that my tastes may not be yours and so I listen to my iPod. So please, don't force me to hear K-Fed or Justin or any of those crass sycophants. 4. But that leads me to my next point. YOU LIVE IN A FUCKING APARTMENT! This means that your neighbor is across a very thin and not sex-proof or slam-proof wall. This means you probably know when I've visited Blockbuster, and you know when I have a date over, and you know when I wake up in the morning. And I know the same about you. You gave up a modicum of privacy when you decided to live in the heart of this small city of ours. Deal with it. You can't have it both ways (well, unless that's what you and your boyfriend are doing). If you want your yarded, picket-fenced, home-depoted privacy, get your litte ass out to Oakville, OK? You know...on second thought. Maybe I won't stop slamming the cabinet doors. Unless, of course, I get some anonymous chocolates. You know where to find me. With MUCH love and tenderness, --Apt. 201  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> Location: The Annex <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-11-26T22:24:48-05:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/240321826.html To the person who left a note on my door this morning text Hello, Torontonians. Im Your Garbageman. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/227097065.html In the five years Ive been collecting your junk and throwing it in the back of my big loud truck, Ive learned a lot about you. Outside of my secret life in my bright orange superhero coveralls, I encounter many of you on your good days and bad, while shopping, drinking coffee, riding the subway and in the other standard places where people congregate. I thought I knew some of you well enough, even through our limited contact, that I could assess our citys varied demographics with some accuracy. I was, however, wrong (or at least incomplete in my judgements). Ive been on three routes in three very different neighbourhoods during my garbage tenure. Most frighteningly, I now collect the trash in the area I live, so Im discovering the dirty little secrets of people I bump into on the sidewalk daily. While this voyeurism was intriguing at first, I now sometimes feel like the Malcolm McDowell character in A Clockwork Orange, tortured by being forced to witness the local horror show. First off, lets start with some simple rules. When it is garbage week, put out your trash bags, not your recycling. Even the dimmest of you must be able to look down the block and see that no-one else has unilaterally decided to but out the blue or grey bins amid the heaps of heavy black bags. Your newspapers, cans and bottles are, therefore, going to sit in place for up to 24 hours (and thats giving some of you too much credit) unless a roving gang of teenage troublemakers wanders by and decides to take you up on your offer of handy missiles. Note, too, that I dont sweep your street and sidewalk, and my truck has tires which broken bottles dont penetrate. I also wear steel-soled and shanked boots and am gone long before you could ask to borrow my gloves to clean up the mess. Those heavy bags you throw out? Rarely are they too heavy for me, but when you decide to conceal three thousand old shingles in one and it weighs two hundred pounds, Ill leave it in place. If it was intended to be a marker at the end of your driveway to lead guests in, youve succeeded, because Im not picking it up. That goes for those of you who leave out fluorescent bulbs which get shattered when moths fart, too, and the cretins who think Ill be scraping up rotted chicken carcasses after the dogs/skunks/raccoons have spread them all over Hells half-acre. Heres a tip: put those bulbs in boxes or bags, and double-bag the stinky garbage, and throw it out in the morning, not at 10:00 pm for the creatures of the night to feast on. Id also suggest you check your handy civic calendar, which I know gets delivered to every household. It outlines when your trash day occurs, what items can be disposed of at what time, and even offers you options (most of them free) to rid yourselves of toxic waste and huge hunks of Grannys furniture. How people can afford a home in Rosedale or Cabbagetown and not have the ability to read a calendar is beyond me, but a good many of you have opened my eyes to the terrors of functional illiteracy. Youve also taught me that owning an expensive home is no sign of good breeding. Nouveau-riche or just the inbred, dull-witted spawn of the upper crust? I have no idea, but people who live in $750,000.00+ homes and throw out 2-4-1 pizza boxes and cases from Kraft Dinner with alarming regularity (not to mention cheap, crappy beer I wouldnt even wash my boots with) are freaks. Im not expecting to pick up trash bags delicately scented with truffle oil, but please, please, stop using giant Value Village bags to rid yourselves of your month-old Toronto Sun papers (its not a newspaper, its asswipe for the braindead) and broken down, cheap-ass electronics made by Sonyo or Olympux. Good grief. Last on my rant list, do me and your neighbours a favour and dont use transparent bags if you must throw away very personal items, such as, say, a dildo the size of a pontoon or five hundred photographs of you and your ex which have been ripped in half. While amusing for a moment, you are revealing more than youd probably like. Yes, its garbage, but its also a window into your world through which some of us involuntarily peer. Finally, a thank-you to the good and sensible people who follow the sensible rules of trash disposal and even go beyond the call of duty. I love that you label very heavy bags, and write in huge letters WARNING: BROKEN GLASS on boxes of broken glass. I love that you wind up the cord to your broken vacuum cleaner before tossing it, and tend to keep your trash bags somewhat orderly and in a spot that doesnt block the sidewalk for pedestrians. Most of all, I love that many of you will mark items as still useful but no longer useful to you, and even put out boxes of books, records and kitchenware with huge signs saying FREE STUFF! for passerby to rummage through. That sort of recycling shows you care (and makes up for the weird stuff you throw out in those transparent bags). Best of the lovely fall season to you all, and dont forget to shovel your walks when the snow comes.   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Toronto <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-10-28T18:58:20-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/227097065.html Hello, Torontonians. Im Your Garbageman. text RANT: To The New Young Gal @ My Gym... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/225898720.html Oh hi there New Young Gal @ My Gym! I hate to bother you New Gal but there are a few things that perhaps you didn't hear during your orientation tours (you've had more than one I see) and that you obviously didn't think to ask about either... And by the way let me disgress right off the top by complimenting you on the stunning{ly fugly} tattoo that adorns your entire neck (take-out Chinese food menu is it?) or arm (spent a while in a Fijian tribe as an outrigger-paddling warrior-princess did we?) or the entirety of your lower back (was it fun being a biker chick?), exposed seemingly permanently by your too-short tops and your too-low pants - which oddly enough are also too short at the bottom - à la a hip huggers sensibility combined unfortunately with a "flood pants" hemline. In fact, let's start with upper wardrobe. Now no one is asking you to run out and spend your entire month's pay on a heapin' helpin' of Lululemon gear or anything like that. We have enough S&M (stand and model) happening around the gym as it is. But you could perhaps hit the Footlocker or Athlete's World - or hell, even Walmart to get a few basics? Those bizarre tops you've been wearing that don't quite reach your navel and that plunge dramatically down the centre of your cleavage are making many strong statements (hooker, floosie, cheap 'n' skanky ho, space cadet, drug addict, slutty bitch) but one thing they aren't saying is "I'm here to get strong and healthy, I'm serious about it and therefore I am going to dress appropriately." How 'bout a nice plain t-shirt? Doesn't even have to have a fancy logo on it... how about for now we just settle for covering your boobs and navel? Don't know if you've noticed honey but of the few men here, most of 'em are either gay or with their wives (or both) so your intended viewing public ain't here. So there's no point in giving any men the evil eye for standing and staring at you gape-mouthed. They're not lusting after you honey, they're in shock at how tacky you look and they're giving you a fashion critique. Your smouldering "get lost you perv!" glare is lost on them altogether. Get over yourself. Two more words for you" "jog bra" - find one. Buy it. Wear it. If you let The Girls fly around too much you'll pay for that in middle age when they fly right down to your knees. Ditto the workout pants - meaning yes, please wear some next time. No, not those short-shorts. Not your daisy-duke sized whoreshorts. Nor your silly, practically TRANSPARENT, lightly "tinted" camel-toe showing, polyester "capri" pants or those weird, clingy, saggy-bum-exaggerating sweats some women favour (do these women NOT look in a 3-way mirror when they try on clothes???) How about some running pants or some kind of leotard and shorts combo? Hey how about even just loose sweat pants? Pretty much anything that doesn't show the SKID MARKS visible on the shiny pair of weirdly translucent pants you wore today - with the colour and contour of your thong and bum cheeks showing through... Hint: if your pants are so tight that I can read your lips, they're not going to be too comfy for working out. And the post-workout aroma down there will, I'm sure, be enough to stun passers-by for miles around. While we're about it please take note that we exercise on a fairly hard surface. I'm glad you're young and perky and that you enjoy making your tits flop around while you do too, but those cheesy discount, plasticky "sneakers" you picked up a decade ago at the dollar store (and wear with BARE FEET!YUCK!) are not doing your feet any good. In fact they are probably helping to erode your joints and cartiledge as you leap about (completely out of time with the music and the rest of us, naturally). Do us all - and yourself - a BIG favour. Go and get some proper gym socks and drop some bucks on some REAL training shoes. Those scuffed little pink numbers with the flat, worn soles are painful even to look at. Even you can afford the $50+ it will cost for REAL shoes. Let's turn to conduct and deportment whilst exerting yourself, shall we? First of all classes start at the time on the schedule you were given - the one visible at the front desk too - or perhaps a minute or two later than stated -- at the absolute max. They do NOT start when you wander in 20 minutes or more late, when we are one third to halfway done. Coming late might even be alright provided you were to sneak in at the back and stay there, out of the way, but apparently you don't have the tact to do that, do you? Nope. You have to strut your way smack into the midst of a bunch of moving bodies. Are you curious as to why you've been hit with a flying hand or kicked a few times? Could it be because we are already in mid-routine when you come sauntering amongst us? What you don't know is how lucky you are that some of the women who are your betters have not decked you or tripped you or worse for this brazen, brainless rudeness you've been perpetuating with your casually late wander-throughs. And for someone so young and so pleasing in shape {from a distance}, you sure did turn out to have ZERO muscle tone. And now we know why!! It's because you have ZERO gross OR fine motor control over your bodily movements. And you have absolutely NO sense of spatial perception either. In fact I looked up the word SPAZ in the dictionary and there you were - in your skimpy top, your practically transparent, skid-marked capri pants and your cheap-assed runners. And how do we know you are so uncoordinated? We know this because instead of using the common sense god gave a goat, and making yourself somewhat of an invisible observer, so as not to embarass yourself and annoy the rest of us when you came to our workout classes the first few times, you've insisted from the start on standing right smack at front and centre --- even though you've had absolutely no idea which way to move, or when --- and you've then proceeded to flop around like a demented fish out of water for the entire class. We also know you're a spaz because you spent the entire class edging closer and closer to the poor instructor until she literally had to start backing up to get away from you. Pay attention to your surroundings SPAZ! Tip o' the day for you sweetie: when you are NEW to any established class, try to sniff the wind a little, use some manners and fucking clue in: Your proper place until you know what the hell we are all doing is to stay out of the way, preferably toward the rear and/or side peripheries and watch what the other people do... i.e. that would be the rest of us - the ones who know what the hell we are doing. Get some powers of observation and USE them. Also, when the instructor enthusiastically urges us to "breathe deeply" while we work out, this is not a license for you to continue to inhale and exhale raggedly through your slack-jawed, loosely opened cakehole. I know you've probably earned your keep performing more fellative manoeuvres than most gals, but please try putting those lips back together and using your nostrils for more than spurting out previously-ingested softdrinks ok? Further, please do not get all disgusted and sniffy when you see the exercise mat you took off the pile is a bit dusty when you go to lie on it. It's a bit dusty because your lazy ass dragged it all the way across the entire floor rather than using the minimal effort required to pick it up and carry it like the rest of us do (which you would have noticed if you possessed even the most rudimentary powers of observation and/or mimicry... but you don't). Oh, and as it's your first class, may we suggest you try using the lighter available weights rather than the heaviest ones offered? It's obvious you don't have the muscle tone or coordination to go through the entire weight routine carrying the 5-pounders - and you if you didn't make that obvious by standing there, weights in each hand, arms at your sides, doing absobloodylutely nothing during most of our weight routine, you certainly made it obvious when we started the overhead portion and, in trying at last to emulate us, you immediately dropped them from over your head onto the floor. Unfortunately for the rest of us, they did not happen to fatally concuss you on the way down. But you made a nice big noise to disturb us, so thanks for that. New Young Gal, when you come to our step classes, please take note that when there is an entire half of the room that is still empty, it is preferable and advisable to take your step and risers somewhere in that direction to set up rather than crowding in a mere six inches away from people (who know what the fuck they are doing) who are already set up in front of, behind, and on either side of where you've just plunked yourself in your perky spirit of communal movement. People need SPACE for step class you twaaaaaaaat. And when we're working out in a mirrored room, please be aware that other people take great pains not to stand DIRECTLY in front of other people, so as not to block anyone from having at least a partial view of the mirror. Unless you want to be inadvertently(?) kicked in the ass or tripped, please extend the same courtesy. 'Cuz if you arrive late and come and stand RIGHT in front of me one more time I'm gonna stomp all over your Achilles heels and send you flying. Late arrival? Well sometimes it can't be helped. But please don't make things worse by walking in front of half the class participants in the middle of the routine. If you're late, use both your neurons: stay in the back, or wait until a break to move up. Don't just barge your way across the floor. Let's talk about the music. The music has a thing called rhythm. Sometimes it's also called a beat. The slightest googling about aerobic exercise classes of most types will tell you that the beat for these classes is somewhere between 115-130 beats per minute and that generally speaking, all of the moves are done in time with the rhythm or beat. This isn't free-form ballet. You're going to need to speed up from your no-gravity-environment, slow-mo loping. NOW. If you can't find the beat in the bland 4/4-time, pseudo-disco-blather we exercise to, then you need to get a hearing test. When the instructor says "if you don't know what to do, just march or jog to the beat until you start to get the hang of it" that is NOT, contrary to what you seem to think, an invitation for you to suddenly break free and create your own improvised choreographic masterpiece, complete with wild gesticulations of flailing arms and legs. That means stay in your own fucking space until you get at least the most rudimentary of moves somewhat figured out and know to move right when we do rather than left. Lastly, New Young Gal, if you wonder why we all fell about the floor snorting with only partially supressed hysterical laughter when you left last time, it could have something to do with your unnecessarily loud and cheery pronouncement to the class leader (but meant for us to overhear and admire) that you were planning to start a new career as a certified fitness instructor... by next month. Finally, have some respect NYG. Think for a moment about the fact that you are new in a room where some of the people have been working out together and have known each other for years. We welcome newcomers yes of course, but take some time to ingratiate yourself into an established setting, take the temperature of the room so to speak. Appearances can be deceiving. There are some incredibly strong people in these work-out rooms. They may not have the perfect shape, as they may have given birth once or twice lately, or they may be in their middle or later ages, but please note carefully that while you are gasping for air 5 minutes into your arrival, they are putting out twice the effort you are and they are sailing along just fine - and could exercise your young but untoned, uncoordinated sorry ass into the ground. Watch and learn -- from a respectful distance.  <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> this is in or around Cobra Position <li> no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-10-26T03:57:25-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/225898720.html RANT: To The New Young Gal @ My Gym... text Dudes, don't shower/shave with your kitten... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/223403423.html I have this cat whom I found as kitten, too young to have been weened properly and sick - without intervention he wouldn't have survived on his own much longer. I nursed him back to health, had to hand feed him for awhile, and I became very attatched to him. He's now really healthy, a beutiful orange tabby and we get along great, but our relationship hit a very rocky point one morning. We've patched things up, reasonably well, but memories of this particular morning will always haunt us - particularly me. But now the point: I shave after I get out of the shower. I throw a towel around my waist, but other than that I shave naked. Like I said my kitten - let's call him Butters - is hanging out in the bathroom the whole time. At this point he's maybe 4 months old, still young, but full of energy. He's playing, doing his thing, and eventually he starts rolling and playing around my feet. 'How sweet,' I think. 'This is a great cat.' Next thing I know i'm on the floor, curled in the foetus position with blood dripping down my chin from a razor cut and Butters is hiding out behind the porcelin throne, starring at me with huge, dialated eyes. yeah, he went there. Dangling objects + kitten = kill. For those who still haven't caught on, while playing around my feet Butters must have looked up and seen the ole' twig and berries, and decide that it would be a great idea to give the danglies a swat. He had good aim - very good aim... I don't understand masochists.  <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 2006-10-20T15:41:16-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/223403423.html Dudes, don't shower/shave with your kitten... text What Craigslist taught me about penises and why it scares me... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/216301167.html Craigslist is a bastion of learning. It's true! Most of it's crappy learning, some of it's actually good, but then there's the occasional scary-ass-thought-provoking-make-me-insensible-with-fear type of knowledge that rears up. This has happened to me, and this is why i'm making this post at such a crappy hour in the morning. Because I've actually been up all night worrying about this...ya, i'm neurotic blah blah blah... What I've learned recently is that there are two basic types of penis. There are 'growers' and there are 'showers'. I did not know this, and I'm a guy. A shower is a penis that is pretty much the same size when hard or soft. What you see is what you get. A grower is a penis that starts small but grows bigger when the blood gets-a-pump'n. It's like a magic trick!! Fun for all. I mean seriously, I didn't know that wangs had two different growth strategies...why would evolution do this? What benefit is there to having one type of penis over the other? It's crazy! Nature, you are a madhouse!! Anyway, at first this didn't bother me much, I found it to be quirky, but unimportant to my life. But tonight, for some reason, I started to think about it...and what I thought about scares me! Let me explain: You see, I"m a grower. As mentioned that means my wang, when at rest, starts off rather small. When soft the little guy is only about 2 1/2 or 3 inches - not impressive. When something exciting happens, though, such as a naked women happens to walk by, or I accidentally click on a link to some free internet porn, the little guy grows - He GETS HUGE!!! Well, ok, maybe not huge, but above 7 inches...and by 7 I mean 6. This isn't bad, I have a nice, average cock, perfect for all potential usages. I"m quite fond of him really...in fact on those slow, quiet, lazy afternoons when I have nothing better to do I'll often pull him out just to admire him...the firmness...the sleek lines...the raw power that is my penis!! I'll admire him for a few minutes, and then put him away, safe again, in my pants. It's a good life. Before Craigslist I had always assumed that every guy had a grower. It only makes sense, mine grows cause that's the way that male genetalia is made!! Suddenly I thought back to all those times walking around locker rooms with my little 3 incher dangling ( can a 3 inch cock dangle??), and I wondered if guys who were 'showers' thought that was all that I had to offer!! Now, since I"m not gay I don't really care too much about other guy's opinions on my unit, but it did start the ball rolling...... What if, for example, I'm sitting on the couch, watching the Leafs, with a hot babe beside me. Say that we've never had sex before, but she's suddenly really horny and feeling 'adventurous' and so she kinda reaches over and sticks her hand down my pants. Suppose her hand is cold. So, there she is with her hand down my pants while I'm watchign the Leafs and her hand is COLD. What do you think the little guy's reaction will be? Well, he's probably going to be a little scared and confused and it'll take awhile before the shock of the situation wears off and he springs into action. Meantime, Hot Babe is wondering why I have such a small stick because she's only ever been with 'showers' before and so thinks that whatever size a guy is when soft, is pretty much what you get when hard. She quickly pulls her hand out of my pants, makes some excuse about pancakes or early morning workouts and leaves. What if this happens!!! It could happen!!! Seriously, it could!!!! Man, it just creeps me out thinking about it.... So, ladies, give a guy a chance, ok, he may have more to offer than you first realize..... P.S. I"m moving back to T.O at the end of the month after being gone for a decade, so if any of you ladies wanna see what I mean by 'grower', drop me a line..muahahaha... P.S.S I also need a job. Drop me a line if you have one of those, too.  <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 2006-10-05T04:04:48-04:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/216301167.html What Craigslist taught me about penises and why it scares me... text You probably cant handle the truth http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/tor/215682174.html I have been dating for almost two years now and ive finally decided to post everything about myself upfront to save the both of us time and aggravation. Normally you would find out in due time what i am about to tell you about myself, but i dont have the energy to go through all the dates, bonding and heartache of you leaving when you find out what i am truly like. SO here goes. I am 28, intellegent and have been told by many that i am beautiful. I own my own home, i am employed and independant. I consider myself to be very easy going, i love to laugh and im not materalistic. I love to cook, i enjoy camping, photography, gardeneing and history. I love music, mostly classic rock. I play the acoustic gutiar, i love doing laundry, i have 5 cats which i love to death and i do a dead on impersination of Cartman fron South Park. Behind closed doors, there is another side to me that many dont get to see. I do have some habits and traits that are unnattractive. Here they are in no particular order. -When i fart, ill bend over so i can smell it. I will usually take 2 or 3 smells as i like the smell of my farts. -when i scratch my ass, i smell my finger -Sometimes, no matter how much i wipe my ass, i still get skid marks in my thong or panties. -i pick my nose and eat it. -i have gone up to a month without brushing my teeth. -i have usually wear the same pair of panties for several days until they are crusted yellow in the crotch and they smell like ammonia. -I shower about once a week.(unless im working or have a date) - i let a dog lick my pussy once. -if i drop food on the floor, ill pick it up and eat it. I have also taken food out of my trash can and eaten it. -I used to use my ex roomates vibrator. -I had head lice for seven years and did nothing about it. -When i floss my teeth or pop zits, ill smell what came out. -I like to eat the fat from meat(i.e. steak fat, roast beef fat ect.) I also will eat the grisle and soft bones. - when i masterbate, i like to call myself a dirty slut out loud and i shove a tooth brush down my throat to make myself gag while i climax. -When i havent showered for a week, my arm pits stink like cheeseburgers, and my crotch smells like ammonia,urine and funk. -i usually dont wipe myself after i piss, which is probably the reason why my crotch smells the way i said above. Its probably why i end up with diaper rash between my legs. - i have an obsession with popping zits. i will for hours sit naked infront of a mirror and search my entire body for a zit to pop. And yours too. -I also have terrible acne on my ass - I lie. Alot. About everything. -Im a hypocrite. I will persicute others for something that i secretly do myself. &l