Friday, November 20th, 2009
“Simple man, simple needs.” (The Blog)
The London Review of Books personal ads that I shared a couple of weeks ago seemed popular. So here are three more. I’ll try to post a few every now and again:
Do you enjoy attending classical jazz concerts? Do you ever close your eyes and pretend you’re watching a Tom and Jerry cartoon? Me too! Inexplicably single Miles Davis, Hanna-Barbera enthusiast (M, 78) seeks giggling brass fan. No strings. Box no. 22/03.
I enjoy a neatly ironed trouser and women who carry the scent of spicy chorizo. Simple man, simple needs. 40. Box no. 21/02.
I passed up an opportunity to attend the 2009 International Biscuit Convention in Warsaw to write this ad. And I really like biscuits. And conventions. Warsaw, not so much. Biscuit convention-loving, Warsaw-indifferent man, 46, WLTM F to 50 with biscuit-baking/convention-hosting talent who preferably doesn’t live in Warsaw. Box no. 21/10.
Friday, November 6th, 2009
“The goat bleats. The shackles tighten.” (The Blog)
I just realized yesterday that, as a subscriber to the London Review of Books, I’m sitting on a gold mine of blog material. In addition to its terrific reviews (one of which will appear in this week’s Beat later today), the LRB is (in)famous for its back-page personal ads, in which clever, morbidly self-deprecating Brits try to outdo each other. The ads are consistently entertaining enough to have been collected in a book. So, from time to time, I think I’ll share a few from recent issues. Four to get us started:
If you can, and do, talk for hours and hours about your love of elderflower kombucha, refuse to eat anything containing wheat, endlessly refer to your travels to India at dinner parties, correct other people’s pronunciation at every opportunity and insist on naming your children (all four of them, born in rapid succession) after members of the Bloomsbury Set, are 46, cold and sexually hostile, you’re either my PhD supervisor or my ex-wife. Good day to you both. The rest of you can try saying something nice to box no. 19/02. (more after the jump)