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Quote:

Originally posted by Craigslist

taboo kinky - looking for gay midget/dwarfs (anywhere)
Reply to: pers-648678692@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-04-19, 5:15PM CDT


lookin to get my hands on gay midget porn or some gay midgets themselves. cant find anything anywhere online. can you help a perv out?

Quote:

Vasectomy: $400. Speechless look on her face: priceless.
Date: 2007-02-06, 2:24PM PST


I'll try to sum up a funny story that happened a few years ago:

I got a vasectomy.

I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.

I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.

We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her - as I was to find out - it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.

Four months into dating, I get the "I'm pregnant" talk. She's going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married "for the baby". She's positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she's gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.

At this point, I'm just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oops" on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can't think beyond their own uteri.

So I wait a couple of days to "think about all this." I meet her again. I say I don't want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.

Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I'm laughing hysterically.

It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm" to show I'm sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I'm ready.

I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.

She's all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"

Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she's really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she's a slut. I'm just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I'm not really mad. I'm kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won't shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.

I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.

I tell her simply, "You're screwed".

Her look doesn't change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.

I continue. "I am sterile"

Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women's logic. "You're full of shit. You're trapped and you know it."

I hold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."

This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."

I was ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It's a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine."

I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It's a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.

I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.

Epilogue -

I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.

The Moral of the Story -

Get a vasectomy but keep it a secret.

Quote:

Originally posted by Rob3

OK eric, whats the point?

Quote:

to the girl on the metro with the cleavage - m4w
Date: 2007-08-06, 4:28AM EDT


when you got up in the morning and got dressed, you chose to wear an outfit that partly reveals your boobs. you have a mirror. you knew. i didn't force you to wear it.

in fact, when you bought this item, you knew that you were going to wear it, in public, and it would be revealing your tits a little (or a lot). make no mistake, i applaud you for this. but what i'm getting at, is that we both know you were showing off your rack. don't lie, it's not very subtle. and don't pretend it's a fashion thing. it's a hooter thing.

so when you buy the top, and wear it, in the summer, in public, and you're going to stand in front of me, guess what.

I'm going to look at your boobs.

first off, you should be flattered. i looked at them because they are nice. you should be upset if you were showing off your knockers and i didn't look at them. actually, them being nice is why i looked at them repeatedly. the first peek was more of an instinct. guy-instinct. we can't help it. after that, we just want to see as much of it as we can. to us, boobs are like the Godfather parts I and II. we can watch them over and over and never get tired of them.

anyway, yea, i looked at your cans. a bunch of times, actually. now, i understand no one likes to be stared at. this is why i did in fact look around the rest of the metro to see if there was anything else interesting to look at. unfortunately there were no other hot babes, no bums, no cute babies, no one was wearing a Slayer reign in blood tour shirt. nothing. so i went back to your melons. sorry. it was a boring ride, and they were right in front of me. but i think you forget that i was nice enough to focus on your funbags, as opposed to alternating between them and trying to make eyecontact. now that would have been ungentlemen-like. i realise no one finds true love over a pair of jugs on the orange line. it's just not realistic. so i kept my head down, stood in a position as to be not overly obvious about my staring, made sure i didn't get a semi (i got real close once, but i handled it), and tried to be as polite about the situation as possible.

so anyway, i just thought you should know my point of view on what happened. i am not a pervert. i was just a man on a metro. a man who saw something that pulled his mind out of the daily routine, and i held onto it dearly (not literally, ofcourse, though that would have been pretty sick). but as you can tell from this long posting, i do feel slightly bad about my behaviour. so to make up for it, i have decided, with pain in my heart, to release you from my spank bank.

i think it is fair to say we are even now. i think i did see a hint of slight animal lust in your eyes when you gave me that annoyed look and got out of the metro. so if you are reading this, baby, i'd really like to take you on a trip... a motorboating trip.

* Location: mtl
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests


PostingID: 390332730

Quote:

THIS APPEARED ON CRAIG’S LIST PostingID: 432279810

What am I doing wrong? Okay, I’m tired of beating around the bush. I’m a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I’m articulate and classy. I’m not from New York. I’m looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don’t think I’m overreaching at all. Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200 - 250. But that’s where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won’t get me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she’s not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level? Here are my questions specifically: - Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics- bars, restaurants, gyms -What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won’t hurt my feelings -Is there an age range I should be targeting (I’m 25)? - Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east side so plain? I’ve seen really ‘plain jane’ boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I’ve seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What’s the story there? - Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investment banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out? - How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY Please hold your insults - I’m putting myself out there in an honest way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I’m being up front about it. I wouldn’t be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn’t able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth. it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Quote:

THE ANSWER Dear Pers-431649184: I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament. Firstly, I’m not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here’s how I see it. Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here’s why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here’s the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity…in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won’t be getting any more beautiful! So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you’re 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you! So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold…hence the rub…marriage. It doesn’t make good business sense to “buy you” (which is what you’re asking) so I’d rather lease. In case you think I’m being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It’s as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage. Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as “articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful” as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn’t found you, if not only for a tryout. By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn’t need to have this difficult conversation. With all that said, I must say you’re going about it the right way. Classic “pump and dump.” I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

Quote:

Originally posted by Cooper.

They aren't cinder blocks dude

Quote:

Originally posted by Tarquin

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They look like cinder blocks to me. I don't get it.

Quote:

Originally posted by Cooper.

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Maybe to you, where I live a cinder block is made of hard fired clay, these blocks are made of Aspirated concrete