El Cab recently turned me on to They call me Naughty Lola: a collection of personal ads from the London Review of Books. Most of them are so short that they could easily fit in a fortune cookie. He knew what a student of Craigslist personals I used to be (The Great Camille has been on haitus for a while) and he thought I'd appreciate them.
On the train, in the cafe, on the bus, in the teacher's lounge. I have been laughing out loud to gems like these (from the back cover)
I'd like to dedicate this advert to my mother (difficult cow, 65) who is responsible for me still being single at 36. Man. 36. Single. Held at home by years of subtle emotional abuse and at least 19 fake heart-attacks.
Love is strange- wait 'till you see my feet. F, 34, wide fitting Scholl's.
Bald, short, fat and ugly male, 53, seeks short-sighted woman with tremendous sexual appetite.
The best way to enjoy them is to have someone read them out loud, preferably with a fake English accent and an impeccable sense of timing.
Overweight, Insecure, with Impressive Debt
Since I am ambigously single, the temptation to get back on CL is strong.
Mediocre Artist Seeks Same
I am going to hold out as long as I can.
Call Me Hera.
I'll call you Jupiter. Jilted F, 31, seeks cheating M to 50
(ha ha, I wrote the above, can I get a date in London?)