More Craig’s List

A Friday grab bag of weird shit out on CL this week:


4,000 beany babys for sale

i have 4,000 beany babys for sale from the macdonalds colection still in
bags extra mint condition call me at 773-307-8057 20cents each o.b.o
my name is freddy, thank you.


Gold Tazmainian Devil Ring - $25
Gold Taz Ring purchased from Zales.

Picture doesn’t do it justice.

$25 or best offer.


One Cigarette for `5 second breakdance
Wanted:
One cigarette.

I’ll pay .70 cents and do a little 15 second dance for you.

I’ll breakdance for 3 cigarettes.


Use Your Vagina
Life is short.

Don’t waste it.

User your vagina as much as possible!


What did the psychiatrist say ………………
……….to the man who walked into his office wearing only Saran wrap underwear?

“Well….I can clearly see your nuts”

A “What the Fuck” Craigslist

Cruising craigslist Missed Connections as I do, I sometimes encounter crazy-ass mofos. And today was no exception.

Here’s a highlight:

Proper blonde at Starbucks on Division - m4w

You were the very attractive blonde in the blue business suit by Starbucks on Division on Friday around 12:30. We passed on the sidewalk, I smiled and nodded, you stuck your nose up in the air. I have to find you again. Any woman who is so aware of her attractiveness that she can simply snub a courteous man wanting to pass along happiness through a smile is the woman for me.

I need to find you again so I can grease up my right arm, cram my fist up your tight ass and knock your teeth out. I fantasize about doing things to you that they can only dream about in Iraqi prisons. Our encounter was special to me. Thanks for touching my day like you did. After that, I was so emotionally wrecked that I ran over a dog, and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. I had to drive up on the curb and scraped the bottom of my car. Almost missed him.

It’s hard to say the effect you had on me. Just keep spreading joy the way you do, and maybe one day you will find your Prince Charming. He will be just the right man to dogfuck you like the bitch you are and then cum in your hair and hopefully your eye, which probably stings. I’ll be looking for you again, so be sure to embrace me again with your charms.

Yours always.

Jeez, man.

Of course cum in the eye stings. Did you even have to guess?

Earworm Strikes Again

Doesn’t everyone, from time to time, have the urge to drive their car off a cliff? Even if you’re not suicidal, don’t you just want to take the plunge, Nestea-style, into the ground, or the ocean? Wonder what your hands would do during the fall. Hold the wheel? Flail?


When it hit, Sal felt like those iPod commercials where the posters dance. Or maybe that crazy Bjork video with spontaneously choreographed dances. Anyway, just after he turned the lock that morning, before he hit the sidewalk, the earworm struck.

Sometimes it’s a song, sometimes just a phrase. Yesterday, it was “made in the U.S.A.” But today, it was that “jump motherfucker jump motherfucker jump” song. Sal tried to keep his lips from moving, but the line was infectious. He muttered it under his breath as he stolled to the train stop. His footsteps fell in time to the beat. “jump motherfucker jump motherfucker jump.”

He even kept the beat on the train, tapping his fingers against the support pole. Sal’s lips kept moving and he increased his volume ever-so-slightly. By the third stop, Sal’s words were audible to those immediately around him. And then there was the bouncing.

After the fifth stop, Sal was jumping, singing the words so half his train car could hear. They stared. And then the girl next to him caught the worm. She knew the song and started jumping, too. Then another man, two more women. A girl halfway down the car put down her RedEye and thought it might be one of those flash mob things she’d heard about.

More and more passengers began chanting “jump motherfucker jump motherfucker jump.” Maybe some couldn’t really understand the words, just regurgitating the sounds of the syllables, but they all yelled and jumped hard. The train rollicked.

Sal reached his stop and got out. Gradually, everyone calmed the fuck down.


Wendy and I have a piece about the American Girl store on Gapers. Check it.

You Are the Quarry

Track by track, here’s my account of the new Morrissey album, You Are the Quarry.

America Is Not the World

A track detailing some of the shaming hypocrisies of America. I must admit, until about halfway into this track, I was sort of thinking, “Dude, Morrissey, don’t you live in L.A.? Love it or leave it, man.” But he ends the song telling America “I love you, I love you,” either inspite of its’ faults or maybe because of.

Irish Blood, English Heart

A good counterpoint to the first track, IBEH discusses Morrissey’s issues with the British government, including the monarchy. He mentions Oliver Cromwell, and this is one of the reasons why I love him. Because, for a pop song, that is fucking arcane.

I Have Forgiven Jesus

There’s a theme developing in the album. Morrissey, perhaps due to his middle age, seems to be coming to terms with matters that, in previous albums, he would have railed more vehemently against. In this track, Morrissey sings about the sense of abandonment one gets when childhood faith in God flies away. And while you might still demand answers, it’s just no use.

Come Back to Camden

Such a typical Morrissey tune. Your heart will curdle with pain listening to this song. At this point, I’m at my most secure, happiest ever, and still, Morrissey is able to fill me with the memory of past desolation. And while many people would run from this, the Morrissey fan fucking revels in it.

I’m Not Sorry

This one of the few — if not the only — Morrissey songs I can see having sex to. Having sex with the Smiths or other Morrissey in the background is just too Breakfast Club for me, but this is a different song. Sexy, but still sad.

The World Is Full of Crashing Bores

Love it, love it. Have listened to it about ten times. Bitterness and seclusion mask a deep desire to be loved! Yes, yes! “Take me in your arms and love me!” he demands. “This world — I am afraid — is designed for crashing bores,” and he insists he is not one.

How Can Anybody Possible Know How I Feel?

A mix of paranoia and prescience, here Morrissey questions the motives of everyone who likes, admires, or polices him. And maybe this about being a star, but I’d like to think everyone comes to these conclusions. I certainly have. People are terribly hard to trust, harder to decipher, and occasionally, hard to respect. “Even I / as sick as I am / I would never be you.”

First of the Gang to Die

Ok, this is a neat one. Hector’s story, a gangmember, “the first of the gang / with a gun in his hand / the first to do time / the first of the gang to die.” Good story, but it’s interesting he wrote this one. Morrissey lives in LA and most of his fanbase in SoCal is Hispanic kids of all backgrounds: bruisers, drama kids, etc. I wonder if this sort of acknowledges this weird fan-idol combo.

Let Me Kiss You

You know that feeling, when you just love someone and you know they don’t love you, much less like you. But you are desperate, can’t move your attentions away? Drowning in loneliness, wasting away for physical affection? This is your song, you sad son of a bitch.

All the Lazy Dykes

Oh, Morrissey, I too have this issue with this segment of the lesbian community. Whenever you encounter a group really into who/what they are (recovering addicts, i’ve found are also like this) are really santci-fucking-monious about their particular thing, that they know you better than you do yourself. This song is from the POV of those dykes who are just sure that one day, you’ll leave your husband and “join the girls.” He namechecks this lesbian bar, The Palms, that this author has been to several times.

I Like You

This is dancey. I am dancing to this, sans gladioli. It’s actually a danceable song. How weird. And it’s all about how when you really like someone, you’ll let them get away with shit you wouldn’t dream of.

You Know It Couldn’t Last

The last, longest, and perhaps weakest track. It’s a torchy number, containing this line “Don’t let the blue eyes fool you / They’re just gelignite.” Fucking arcane. Gelignite, it seems, is an explosive mixture composed of nitroglycerine, guncotton, wood pulp, and potassium nitrate. Evocative. Does every musician have to put a track on their album about how hard it is to be a pop star? This is, admittedly, a fine one. It must be difficult to be revered then forgotten. “Teenagers who love you / they will wake up / Yawn and kill you.” And yet, Morrissey includes jabs at critics, and references about his royalty battles with former bandmates.

All in all, YATQ is fabulous, better than Maladjusted, for sure. It’s a more mature, level-eyed look at the world. I think many people originally liked Morrissey for the woe-is-me quality of his music and find it hard to age and listen to the same sad songs. But this album melds woe with shoulder-shrugging, as well as the learned wit Morrissey always brings to his songs. Plus, the music is just richer than past albums.

And the cover image? Morrissey is holding up well. And I should know, as I recently saw him shirtless.

A Moment at Pier 1

“Isn’t this the cutest thing? I came in today looking for chair pads, but I’m just in love with this fish thing made out of beads! I wonder what it’s for … oh, it’s a votive holder,” exclaimed Karen as she put the fish in her bulging basket. She glanced back at Sally for her reaction. She was a few paces behind Karen, fingering a lampshade absentmindedly.

“Sal?”

Sally turned back to Karen. She knew what Karen wanted to hear, but just couldn’t manage the necessary reply.

“Do you need that thing?” asked Sally in a strange, flat tone.

Karen looked like she didn’t understand. Who cares if she needed it? She could buy it. She liked it. So what?

“Of course I don’t need it, but it will look nice on the lanai. It’s sort of glittery. Nice for dinner parties.” Karen stammered a bit, but she was altogether pleased that, under Sally’s lifeless stare, she had found an actual reason to buy the fish.

Sally couldn’t hold back. Her husband had warned her about her increasingly biting sarcasm, but she simply did not give a shit anymore. “I’m sure that’s a great relief to the Cambodian child who strang all the beads together.”

“Sally, are you all right?” She touched Sally’s arm and leaned toward her friend. She’d never seen her like this, listless and judgemental.

“I’m drunk, Karen,” Sally replied. She didn’t slur — Sally was far too practiced for that. Her husband couldn’t even tell when he kissed her on his way out, even though she’d been drinking Riesling for hours.

Karen almost fell over herself as she took a giant step back from Sally. “You’re joking.”

“Not, actually, sweets. I’ve been drunk for years.” A slow smile slid across Sally’s face. She struck the model-ish pose she’d been so fond of in her early twenties. Hand on hip, left foot in front of the right making a T, upturned chin. It looked ridiculous on a woman clad in Liz Claiborne.

Karen stared openmouthed at her friend. Is Sally on something?, she thought. Sure, she’d seen her get a little tipsy at parties or whatever, but Riesling in the morning? “What are you talking about, Sally?” she asked yet again.

She prayed Karen would stop talking. There had been hints, sure. But she was willing to forgive these … transgressions? because Sally had never been boorish. Drunk, maybe, but she always showed up. She always was there.

“Jesus, Karen. Drunk. I’m drunk. Totally drunk. I’m drunk every day by at least noon. I’ve been doing it for years and nobody has noticed.”

Karen turned sharply away and focused on a wicker mail basket, “I’ve been looking for one of these. Perfect. Just what I need.”

Nobody would leave their circle and rescue her, Sally decided. Whatever she did, it would be on her own. It wasn’t the loneliness she dreaded, it was the honesty. Because she had lied for so long, not about booze but about everything, Sally thought maybe she’d forgotten how to tell the truth.

Sally grabbed Karen’s arm and whirled her around. The mail basket tumbled to the ground. “Fuck the basket, Karen.”

“Sally, stop,” blubbered Kared as tears spilled out of her eyes. “Please, don’t.”

Don’t be a drunk or don’t be my friend, Sally wondered. Karen must have known. They spent so much time together, buying things, lunching.

Sally tightened her grip on her friend’s arm and grabber her other hand. “I’m leaving him. I’m going to rehab and then moving out.” Her voice grew raspy with phlegm.

Karen broke free of Sally’s clutch and backed away again. Sally was done trying. Karen would either keep her or find another manicure buddy. She turned away from her maid-of-honor, sorority sister, and Lamaze coach and walked away.

Karen bought the fish.

Wallet

I have selected my burlesque music.


She had forgotten her book. The long bus ride ahead of her seemed arduous without something to read. Elspeth searched her purse, but she’d just pitched all the crumpled receipts, leaflets, and photocopied articles that usually packed it. It held only Elspeth’s wallet, a lipstick, and her keys.

She opened the first of her wallet’s two main compartment. It held her driver’s license, credit and miscellaneous other cards. A hidden pocket behind it contained movie, plane, and theatre ticket stubs, all alphebetized and organized by date. The first note, folded in thirds, given to her by her now husband. Someone’s ATM receipt showing a bank balance of $247, 495.

The other compartment was solely for change. This pocket was separated by a zippered pouch where she stowed postage stamps. To the right, nickels, dimes, and quarters, including one Candian, and one British piece. To the left, pennies sequestered and dusty.

Elpeth examined each article then put it carefully back into the wallet. She zippered it and popped it back into her purse. Only three stops had passed.

Classifieds

This week’s selection of the more memorable ads from Chicagoland publications.

looking for trupti - m4w - 30

Looking for Trupti P. we met a few years ago. I want to say almost exactly 4 years ago. We met at an anniversary party. I wanted to apologize for events that happened then. Please write me if you see this. - Craig’s List

wanted: episodes of Space Ghost coast to coast

besides season one which is on DVD, i would like your VHS or DVD copies of subsequent space ghost episodes/ seasons. would prefer trade or barter of goods or services. i have a boat load or rare rock concerts. (list available). i also have music makin’ stuff (mic cords, etc)

please FWD this along to someone who might be interested. thanks.

Come to think of it, i think i might want some KNIGHT RIDER also. - Craig’s List

4/30-5/12: TEACHER FROM SPAIN GIVES PRIVATE LESSONS OF SPANISH

Hello,
My name is Ana and I am a student from Spain. I can teach you Spanish for a cheap price. My lessons would be based on basic grammar lessons, writing assignments, reading,phonetic clues, conversations clues, conversation patterns, pronuciation skills, and many tricks that might help you enhance your oral and written Spanish. Please respond if you are interested.
Thanks everyone for reading this ad.
Ana - Craig’s List

EXPERIENCE THAT FULL FEELING IN A GANG BANG - mm4w - 29

The Chicago Horsemen Group have come together to find a female whom is either single, separated, or married that want to experience this filled up feeling.

We are intelligent professionals that are discreet and very safety concious, where condoms are a must.

If interested let us know and please include a picture. - Craig’s List

MOTHER’S PLEA I need help obtaining information regarding the death of my son 3/11/04 at the New International Produce Market. He was a truck driver from Montana, making a delivery at a Celery & Vegetable Co., 2404 Wolcott, Pilsen. - Sun Times

JOB ENVY. “WOW, you work at Crate and Barrel?” “Is it really as fun as it looks, think I could get a job there?” And so the envy begins. Crate and Barrel is American’s leading home specialty retailer, world-renowned for design, value and customer service. Since we believe in promotion from within, we offer outstanding opportunities to career-oriented people interested in fast growth potential with our management team. We are actively seeking motivated individuals who have the drive and desire to succeed in a team environment to join us in the following hands-on training program. Department managers, management trainees. Our competitive compensation/ benefits package includes health and dental insurance, profit sharing, 401(k) and a 30% store discount. Please come into any one of our Chicagoland locations to complete an application or download one from our Web site or e-mail your resume to careers@crateandbarrel.com. Crate & Barrel, www.crateandbarrel.com. - Chicago Reader

THIRD SHIFT BAKER. SWJF looking for fellow print addict to share bibliophic tendencies. 5′4″, well-rounded, 43. Prefer over-educated animal lovers (especially fried) who can act like adults when necessary. Also fond of museums, zoos, miniature golf and kayaks. If you work nights, give me a call. 40758 (exp 5/20) - Chicago Reader

WE WANT YOUR outrageous Phlebotomy stories of patients or blood donors who give you a hard time drawing their blood. Send to phlebtales@writemen.com - Chicago Reader

MY NAME IS Brett, you know, like the famous white trash comedienne