Best of Craigslist

Best of Craigslist http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best postings from craigslist.org, selected by readers en-us Copyright 2009, craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best of Craigslist Collection 2008-11-13T11:17:10-05:00 2 daily homemade motorcycle http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/917410616.html I have a homemade bike me and my brother built many years ago. Runs and drives but the back tire kind of rides sideways. The seat blew out a few years ago and I made do with a sofa cushion, duct tape and a couple of 2x 4's ( the ultimate fix! ). It runs like a champ but does smoke alot especially if you are hard on the gas. Uses about a quart of oil for each gas fillup. I usually just put the oil directly in the gas as it is going to burn it anyway and that way it is easy. Can't drive over 12 miles or so at a time as the motor gets red hot and starts loosing power so probably a good bike for someone who drives locally. Does backfire and squeel pretty loud occasionally so I usually wear earplugs of some kind. DOES NOT pass emmissions so would need to be registered in a county without emmisions check. Great first bike otherwise! <img src="917410616.jpg"> <ul> <li> Location: centerville <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-11-13T11:17:10-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/917410616.html homemade motorcycle text Duck Mask http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/806134244.html Full head rubber mask, old, has discoloration on white feather part from age, storage. Hey I got it on my big head, so it works that way. <img src="806134244.jpg"> <ul> <li> Location: Acworth <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-08-21T08:09:27-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/806134244.html Duck Mask text need girl to please teach me to kiss - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/744997359.html As seen on TV! I'm a 20 yearold GA Tech student who has never kissed. I have been going out with a girl online for the last 5 years and she's finally coming down to see me on the 11th. She tells me it's a big turn-off if a guy doesn't know how to kiss, and she even dumped her last boyfriend because of this. I want to make a good first impression, but I've never kissed before! Please, I need a girl to practice kissing with, nothing else!! Just kissing lesson - nothing more nothing less! Some have asked if I have terrible oral hygiene or something of that sort, so I included a picture of me showing my teeth! I'm pretty normal overall. Will send more pics on request! Email me at mmccarty3 at gatech dot edu Never been kissed <img src="744997359.1.jpg"> <img src="744997359.2.jpg"> <ul> <li> Location: atlanta or cobb or marietta or anywhere <li>it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-07-06T22:22:16-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/744997359.html need girl to please teach me to kiss - m4w text So You Wanna Get Laid On Atl Craigslist CE http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/561825945.html As a woman who has a.) posted on CE and gotten laid and b.)responded to ads on CE and gotten laid I am annoyed by all the men on here complianing about how they post and post and post and aren't getting what they're looking for. You bitch and say no one responds, only gay/bi/dl men respond or you get game playing whores. Well here are a few tips to help you post that ad, get laid and stop bitching. 1. Be Specific About What The Hell You Are Looking For 'I wanna fuck, hit me up if interested' Are you fucking kidding? Exactly what in the hell are you looking for? You wanna fuck you say. Well whooptie freakin doo. So does pretty much everyone else on the entire freaking planet. You guarentee to make me cum..yeah, you and about 8000 other men today posting have made the same promise. Posting a vauge ass 8 word ad is just asking for a load of retarded respondents. What do you wanna fuck? You didn't say. Your ad could mean anything from a woman with a pulse to a fucking chicken in a wig and night coat. Specifics are a must. 2. Post More Than A Dick Pic (or several at differnt angles) So you post a pic of your penis in 15 different angles, in different lighting situations and in sephia and black and white shots like its a fucking magazine spread and no face pic and you wonder why only gay men have responded. Well here's a news flash for you: Women aren't attracted to your big dick unless its attached to a hot body, and a nice face. Hell we'll take a slightly chubby guy if his face is worth something and he has all his teeth. And we know our tits don't mean shit if you don't like the body they are attached to. Only gay men get turned on by a picture of your dick taken after your last masterbatory excursion. Women need to know what the fuck that massive dick is attached to. You may have an awesome sized pecker but it don't mean a damn thing if your face is a fucking mess. Try posting a pic of your face and description of your dick. You may get a better response. 3. Be More Specific About What You Are Looking For. 'Looking for a woman' again is too vauge. You thinking your short ass post is going to set off some butterfly effect wave of playboy bunnies beating down your email box is nuts. If you like waiffy, crackwhore looking chicks, say so. If you love BBWs, say so. If you would like a woman who doesn't mind you pulling her hair and smacking her ass while you finger her butthole, damn it say so. If you want a black woman say so. If you want a white woman, latina woman, purple woman with red eyes...you get it, say so. If all you ask is that the person responding to your ad has a pulse then that is exactly what you will get, every and anything, and mostly what you probably don't want. 4. Stop Bitching About Email Tag. 'No more than 2 emails and then we have to met' Excuse me? Are you crazy or what? We get it, you're tired of jacking off. Hell, we're tired of buying batteries. But seriously, there are crazies out there, male and female alike. Slow down. Maybe you, men of Atlanta, are comfortable inviting psychos to your house but most women would like to know our intended target of a hot sweaty sexcapade isn't going to invite us over, strangle us, cut us up in a million pieces, put us under the floor boards of their house and then jack off over our dead bodies. Sometimes a few emails and a few phone calls back and forth is necessary to the establish a sense of comfort. If you can't be patient then stop posting and keep jacking off. 5. Be Specific About Where You Live You don't have to post your address but saying 'I live in Dekalb' could mean one of a biillion fucking cities. Its a complete waste of time talking to someone back and forth for several exchanges only to come and find out they live in Grayson Gwinnett and you live in Tucker Gwinnett. Who in the hell is going to drive all that way to get laid? Well some people might, for the right person, but most of us posting and reading don't generally want to leave the neighborhood to find some ass. So post a city, a zip code or a fucking highway exit number but stop with the fucking county locations please. 6. Stop Posting The Same Lame Ass Post (or even lamer variations) Day after day, every hour on the hour you post the same damn thing and complain about getting the same respondants or the same type of responses. Only crazy people do the same exact thing over and over and expect different outcomes. If it doesn't work the first time, change it. 7. Stop Posting How Much You Make And complaining about gold diggers. You're posting an ad, on craigslist, for sex. Why does it matter how much you make or that you HAVE a job or a fucking loft in midtown. The only women who give a shit are the gold diggers you're complaining about. There are plenty women out there who aren't looking for love or a sugar daddy. We don't need you break us off a little change, or pay our bills. Some of us just want to getting fucked, well, and be left alone. The only thing some of us care about is whether you can lay it down right and if you have the decency to shower first and wear a condom. But when you put out that you make so and so, you're asking for gold digging whores to contact you. If you are only looking for a warm pussy to bury yourself in, don't mention your bank account. 8. And lastly, Be Patient I don't know anyone who has only posted one time and gotten the lay of his/her life as a result of it. Its the internet, it's NOT a magic box you keep on the desk. You think all you have to do is click the mouse and poof you have a pussy in your face. Its just not so. The people posting and the people reading those posts all come from the real world, well most of us. And just like dating in the real world sometimes finding someone to fuck the shit out you takes time. So calm down and have some patience. In conclusion, remember your ad on CE is an ad selling you. If you don't market yourself right you won't get the response you want. If you don't exercise some patience and you aren't specific, you won't get the ultimate payoff. You'll get the cheap, watered down, bootleg version of what you were originally looking for and you'll still be horny, jacking off and unhappy. Happy Hunting Signed, A not so horny (anymore) poster/reader/fwb of Atlanta Craigslist Casual Encounters   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Good Luck <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-03T17:24:34-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/561825945.html So You Wanna Get Laid On Atl Craigslist CE text Dear Boyfriend: I Love You, Please Don't Murder Me In My Sleep http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/431824489.html To my dear boyfriend, who is so amazingly and unendingly neurotic - I am onto you! I like you and how you are. I'm also pretty sure that something must go wrong here, and I've decided that the issue will lie in your mental health. To be able to confirm or deny these suspicions, read on: 1) Your cleaning fixation - I get it. You feel comfortable when things are a certain way. These little tidy rituals help you sleep better at night, or whatever. Everything you own has a certain drawer, a certain order, a certain placement. This was fine and kind of cute until I woke up to you remaking the bed I WAS SLEEPING IN because I'd laid the stripes on the comforter wrong. WTF. Seek help. 2) Your friends - You seem to think that no guys really have many friends. That's just not true! Granted, you have two older brothers that you idolize and that's kind of like having friends, but not really. Your only two non-related friends are SUCH LOSERS. One is in LOVE with Redneck-Bumfuckville where you guys are all from (thank GOD you don't live there anymore). Seriously, his dogs are named "Boots" and "Boots' Friend". WTF!! The other friend lives with you, is terrified of social interaction, has some serious anger problems, and plays CounterStrike as his only hobby. Seriously. You can do so much better. 3)Your jealousy/lack of self-confidence - Darling boyfriend, you are 6'5, lean, good-looking, and hilarious. You're also a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. When we go to bars, girls turn around and double take when you walk by. You, however, have no concept of this because you're too busy staring down any guy that so much as looks near my general vicinity. You've had a longstanding feud with my promiscuous best friend because you're afraid she'll rub off on me... even though I've known her four years longer than I've known you. You've hated my roommate's boyfriend ever since he invited me to road trip with him to New Orleans (where our families both live) over Labor Day. What's the deal? 4) Your education - You halfway goddess-worship me because I finished three years at a fancy private college. Despite that fact that you're working to get your degree too, you apparently think I am WAY too smart from you (this was suggested by the aforementioned best friend, which is another reason you secretly hate her). When I write your papers and give you synopses of books you don't want to read, you act like I am parting with my own life-blood. I don't get it, personally, but I like how I write you a paper and you get all cuddly and loving. It's manipulative, but I'll take it. 5) Your commitment issues - You've only couple of serious girlfriends. The first cheated on you with and left you for someone you both knew. The second was a Hooters girl and you got so jealous that you dumped her. Your view is that they both fucked around on you and were out to break your heart. Therefore, you are more than slightly reluctant to admit any kind of feelings. And you keep saying that you don't know how to tell if you're REALLY in love. Make up your mind! No ultimatum here, but we're been dating for six months and this should be the good, easy part of the relationship. Lucky for you I see your emotional confusion and reluctance as a challenge, and I don't care if that makes me totally nuts. 6) Sex - You're a little uptight. You're good in bed, but not very confident and pretty scared to try new things. Although you have a serious interest in anal (not going to happen), you're terrified of a little bondage. Then we tried it, you got really into it, and now you're too timid to do it again. WEIRD. Also, when you tell me about your celebrity crushes, it weirds me out. Alexis Bledel? Avril Lavigne? Your whole top five is girls with physical quirks. Does that mean you're a serial killer and you'll eventually make me into a skin jacket? Who likes someone for their weird face shape or snaggle tooth, really? 6) You like me - You like all the weird shit I do. When I peel the sesame seeds off hamburger buns, when I refuse to wear clothing when I sleep, when I forget my keys/wallet/phone/whatever and borrow yours... you apparently think these things are endearing. I don't get it. You find my antics funny where others would be pulling their hair out. AND you get my weird sense of humor. I find this suspicious. Even my best friend doesn't get all the weird celebrity references that make up my joke reperetoire. Basically what I'm trying to say here is that I love you, and that makes me think that you are probably a total nutcase. I'd appreciate if you could just come out with whatever rabbits you've got in the proverbial hat NOW so that I can being packing and moving to another state, getting a restraining order, or filing a missing persons report on you. Whatever needs to be done. In the case that you're not a crazy truckstop-killer, can we settle down and make babies? Or at least move near each other and get two chocolate labs and walk them in the park every day? Love, Your highly suspicious girlfriend  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Atlanta <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-09-25T14:02:22-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/431824489.html Dear Boyfriend: I Love You, Please Don't Murder Me In My Sleep text To the sadly desperate gentleman on MARTA http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/413778781.html Hello again, Mr. Socially Inappropriate Middle Aged Man. It's me: the one who you tried to convince was your soul mate between midtown and north atlanta. I was actually naive enough to be flattered when you first gave me your number and asked me out to dinner. After all, it's nice to be noticed. After you've been happily married for over 10 years and have two awesome kids, it's not often that you get hit on by someone other than your husband. So, granted, I forgave your creepy forwardness in loo of my sudden feeling of "yeah, I still got it." But then you had to go and get loopy on me. You just couldn't help but to ruin it. You had to keep talking, despite the fact that I stopped making eye contact with you the last 20 minutes of your desperate monologue of growing ardor. Despite the fact that everyone around us was giving me sympathetic glances and sad little smiles your way. I support taking chances. It can be tough meeting new people and i'm sure that dating at 40 has its challenges. But learn a small measure of respect for yourself, man. And for that matter, learn to respect the one you're trying to pick up. No girl is going to be reeled in by your pathetic proclaimations of love in the time it takes to order a hamburger. Unless you're Brad Pitt. And unfortuantely for you, you're not. And learn to read social cues, for God's sake. If a girl isn't responding, it's time to back off. If she mentions that you could be a serial killer, it doesn't mean she's trying to be cute. It means she's geniunely uncomfortable with your advances. Even though i'm irritated that you fucked up my nice quiet ride home this afternoon, I am grateful for your help in making me understand the true importance of an ipod. You retard.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: ATL <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-09-04T15:28:42-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/413778781.html To the sadly desperate gentleman on MARTA text Giving Good Head http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/409813335.html Okay men I've read alot of CE ads claiming you give good head but when an actual hook up occurs some of you don't have the slighest clue in hell as to what it is you are doing. And just because you love giving head doesn't mean you give it well so here are 5 small tips to help you and your lady out... 1.) There is more to it than the clit: The clit isn't the only part of the vagina that loves attention during 69. The vagina isn't just for your dick. So stop ignoring it. Put your finger(s) in it, use a vibrator, a carrot (not my thing but I thought I'd throw it out there), something, ANYTHING but play in it please. I mean for crying out loud your face is covered in lady juices so why are you afraid of getting your hands dirty? 2.) You have options: Speaking of the clit, there are more sensations we like other than you flicking it with the tip of your tounge. Suck it, bite it (not too hard- I can not stress this enough) or agian use your hands and give it a little break so she doesn't orgasm in 30 seconds or less. Alternate and repeat. Do you like it when a woman just bobs up and down on your dick with her mouth and nothing else or do you like it when she sucks the whole thing, then just the tip, licks it, grabs it and jacks you off while sucking it and plays with your balls? We like a little variety too. 3.) Rug Burn = No fun: Shave your face or at the very least trim your mustache. No woman on this entire planet thinks having rug burn on her inner thighs is col. We do have to get up and go to work/school/shop when you are done. We need to be able to walk without being in constant pain. Not being able to walk because of the earth shattering orgasm one thing and is totally diferent than being in pain because our thighs are chaffing. 4.) Her thighs are not there just to get in the way: You don't just have to rush right in and start going at it like you're starving, kissing a ladies thighs can only go one of two ways- a. it'll turn her on even more or b. she's laugh like crazy cause it tickles, either way its fun so stop using them to prop yourself up. Rub them while you're eating her out, grab them and pull her legs open but just stop pretending like they aren't there. They are an erogenous zone. 5.) Its not going to break: There are some men who eat pussy like if they get too close or too into it its going to break. You do this too when having sex. If your lady likes it a bit harder during sex she probably wouldn't mind you losing yourself and letting go when your face is in between her legs. Bury your face in there, swim around, come up for air and then dive back in. The vagina is attached. It will not break, it will not come off, it will not need to go in and be redetailed if you bang it up a bit with your mouth so stop treating it like a new Sabb and rough it up a bit. Touch it and act like you love doing it. If you say you love eating pussy then EAT IT don't just taste test it. Thank you  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: GC <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-30T11:54:51-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/409813335.html Giving Good Head text Rant: evil, evil digital weight scale http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/255693356.html My boyfriend of 4 months gave me a few great gifts this Christmas,nothing elaborate, just nice thoughtful gifts that showed he listens to me and is beginning to really get to know me. That being said......he also gave me a digital weight scale. Now, granted, I did actually say one day that I needed one but it was more along the lines of "Damn, I wish I could weigh this bag of squash to see if I have enough for this recipe." Okay, he could have given me one of those cute scales for weighing food from Crate and Barrell, but he's a guy , I cut him a break. I thanked him and cautiously set the scale in the corner of my bathroom, where I figured it would sit and gather dust until I bought another bag of squash. A few days after Christmas, I am in the bathroom doing bathroom stuff after my shower and this little white digital weight scale seemed to be calling to me.... "come on, step right up, you know you want to...you can't ignore me forever." Now I have to say right here that I am a pretty well-adjusted woman as far as body image is concerned, normal worries about "getting soft", pudgy, gaining weight, but never overly concerned. I am 5'5" ,keep active, try to eat right, my clothes fit, and I never have any trouble attracting at least my share of attention from the opposite sex. And when it comes time to shed clothes for a little sexual activity, never thought twice about ripping said clothes right off. But let me tell you, once you have given in to the siren call of the evil digital weight scale, your life is forever changed. I stepped on - the digital numbers came right up - Hey, it works - and I totally FREAKED! OMG - there is NO WAY those numbers are right! I screamed for my boyfriend and he came running, possibly thinking there was a huge spider in the tub - I HATE spiders. He found me standing in shock and horror on the opposite side of the bathroom from the scale - butt naked and pointing at the evil digital weight scale. Me: "Get on that thing and tell me if it reads your correct weight." Him: "yep,it is reading correctly." Me: "Are you sure?" Him: "Yes" Me: "Really?" Him: "YES!!" Me: "It does not work correctly when I get on it" Him: "Really?" Me: "YES, REALLY!!" Him:"Well, step up on here and let's see" Me: "No Fucking way" Him: "Then since you're already naked, let's have some happy monkey sex" Me: "I'm too fat to have sex" Now, I don't really think I'm fat, my boyfriend does not think I am fat, but this Fucking evil digital weight scale says I weigh too much!!!!! How can this be?? I had not had occasion to weigh myself in about a year - since my last Doctor's appointment. Let me tell you, it's true about a number having power! After the initial shock wore off - and after we went ahead and had that monkey sex - I found myself hopping onto that evil digital weight scale 10 times a day. Saturday: Morning: 142.2 1 hour later: 141.3 After Lunch: 142.6 After I peed: 142.3 After we got back from visiting friends: 143.1 2 Hours later: 142.6 Before Dinner: 142.3 After Dinner: 142.8 After peeing and pooping: 142.2 2 hours later: 141.8 After every weigh-in I was either pissed off that the weight went up, or gloating that I had stolen a few ounces from the evil digital weight scale. Unreasonable, I know, I know. But it started to be this weird competition between me and the EVIL DIGITAL WEIGHT SCALE and I wanted - needed - that number to go DOWN!!!!! I got up this morning, ran to the bathroom to pee, thinking "okay, you evil digital weight scale, I am going to pee then see what you have to say!" It was gone! M.I.A.! Imagine my shock! Then Relief! I would not have to be a slave to the evil digital weight scale today!!! I climbed back in bed and jumped on my boyfriend for some morning sex and afterwards I asked "okay, so where did you put it?" Him: "Not telling". Me: "I think I love you. Let's go to the gym today."   <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 2006-12-31T09:26:30-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/255693356.html Rant: evil, evil digital weight scale text Missed Connection with My Life http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/140739919.html I missed the connection with the life I wanted and ended up, due to my own choosing, with a life I dont recognize. I made bad choices and bad decisions and theres no one to blame but myself. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we make a decision, realize its a mistake then box ourselves in with no good way out? I am half in love and half in hate. From what I read here and in the CE area, there are a lot of other people just like me. Even though my husband can be a jerk, insensitive, and inattentive, he still does not deserve for me to cheat on him. Hes not a mean or cruel person. No one can do anything to earn being cheated on, regardless. I cannot rationalize myself into thinking, if he cant or wont give me what I want, no matter how often I tell him of my needs, then I will find it where I can. So, I let life get in the wayfinances, creeping age, health issues, and breaking hearts. I keep myself boxed in and pretend to myself and others that my life, as it is, is what I want. Its not. My husband does not know, my family does not know. We look happy, we act happy. I have no good way out without hurting him when he needs me most and loves me. I have no good way out financially. I am where I am because I made the wrong choices and wrong decisions. Here I sit with a missed connection to my life, the life full of love and not half & half. I missed the connection with romance, feeling butterflies when I see his face or he sees mine, a kiss on the back of my neck when he gets home at night, and the words, hello, gorgeous. I missed the connection with loving the way I can and want to love and I did it all to myself. I missed connecting with my life, so I live the life I have. I wish it could be different, but it cant. I dont feel sorry for myself, but that does not keep me from wanting to feel the connection. Therein, my fellow Craigslisters, lies the rub---no way into my missed life, no way out of my real life, at least not without hurting someone or being dishonorable. I wont or cant do either. Anyway, this was my call out to my missed connection with my life. This is the only way I can express it. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-03-10T13:36:44-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/140739919.html Missed Connection with My Life text Warning!!! http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/137751011.html It started with "Best Of CL." A friend said some of it was funny. Then I moved on to missed connections. Maybe that girl I was staring at who barely acknowledged my existence was just shy but secretly fell for me and will try to find me on CL. Weeks pass, dozens of women have failed to miss connecting with me, so I post: "You: Stunningly attractive blonde in your late 20's eating dinner at XXXXXXX with a guy who could kick my ass. You were wearing [insert a creepy number of details here], and also a wedding ring, I think. Me: Chubby guy eight tables away eating with my parents. Can't wait to hear from you." I check my email constantly, but I don't hear from her. Her computer must be broken. I start to peruse the W4M section in search of my soulmate, only to realize that I am not in fact chubby when compared to the manatees who just can't wait for me to fall in love with their three kids, seven cats, and fourteen maxed out credit cards. The craziest thing about these women is that I don't come close to meeting their requirements, which it turns out is probably a good thing, as my newfound addiction to craigslist is increasing my level of desperation. In order to save myself from some truly tragic decision, I move swiftly to casual encounters. This, after all, must be where the attractive and intelligent women hang out. I quickly learn a few things: 1) Straight guys can get blowjobs with no strings attached at virtually any time of day all over the city, as long as they can convince themselves that they are straight while a guy is blowing them. 2) Any ad in all caps is a fake. This was truly disappointing, as I do have something of a fetish for "MIDDLE EAST LADY DOCTOR"s who cannot spell. 3) Whoever writes fake ads has without a doubt the sweetest job in the world. There seems to be no quality control whatsoever. To rectify this, I propose adding "Fake Sex Ad Writing" as an Olympic event. Wheaties box, here I come. 4) The institution of marriage is significantly less threatened by monogamous gay couples than it is by "generous" married men. 5) The only women on this section who MIGHT be real must have some shit seriously wrong with them. Why am I writing all this? Because you don't have to travel down this road. I don't know where this will end for me, but I doubt it will be pretty, and it will likely involve the phrase "pre-op." If you don't know what I'm talking about, consider yourself lucky. A final plea. I think the only way I can break this cycle is to meet women the old fashioned way, by talking to them. So, if you're a really attractive woman and a pretty average looking guy approaches you, but seems shy, let him know it's ok by using some inviting introduction. Here are some suggestions: "I need a fuckbuddy." "MWF seeks anal worship." or the ever popular "GANGBANG! (400/Mansell)" Just a thought. Finally, a question for people who post their pictures, especially erotic pictures, on CL. Clearly, you think your odds of getting laid are highest if you include both your face and your exposed genitals. While for some of you I am certain this is not the case, even for those for whom it is, isn't it kind of a gamble that someone you know will see you, for instance your wife, or mother, or gay uncle, or kid you babysit, or your parole officer? That's a missed connection I wouldn't want to be found. webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-02-28T12:13:06-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/137751011.html Warning!!! text Hot Dekalb Police officer pulling into QT off Ptree Industrial - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/134322209.html Me: Cute 30-something woman, 5'7", 130 pounds, long brown hair, green eyes, pink jacket and tight blue jeans, driving a gold Grand Cherokee north on Peachtree Industrial at about 12:45 AM. You: Big white cop driving a big cop car. I knew you were the one for me as soon as you blasted past me on the frontage road alongside Peachtree Industrial. I was driving a sedate 45 MPH down the frontage road when you blew past me on the right, at about 80 MPH, no cop lights on, and no headlights on either. "He must be after someone for sure!" I said to myself, "otherwise he would have passed me on the left at a normal speed like a normal person, rather than on the right at an unsafe speed like some kind of maniac!" Why, it would be silly to drive like that for no reason at all. What a brave policeman you must be, I imagined, going after some bad guy in such a speedy yet stealthy manner! Well, imagine my surprise when you pulled into the very same QuikTrip I was heading for. I was turning in to fill up my left front tire, which has a persistent slow leak. I thought, you must be chasing a criminal! Particularly when you screamed into the parking lot at high speed (luckily it was deserted! Heavens!) and came to a stop straight across at least two spaces. Oh, I hope this nice QuikTrip isn't being robbed! But, no, it seems you were only stopping for a refreshment, judging by your sedate walking pace. My, what a large round ass you have, Mr Policeman! And a big jolly belly too! As I glared at you in obvious consternation through my window, you must have noticed my beauty and virtue even from across the parking lot, because you chose that very moment to let your little light shine (flashlight, that is) in my direction. Hello there! Don't mind me, I'm just trying to stay alive long enough to fill this pesky tire, and check the others too! Tee hee! You schlumped into the store, and then you waddled out shortly afterwards, refreshments in hand. It must have been quite a refreshment emergency, you poor, starving thing. I'm sure if it was anything other than dire need, you would have managed to live off the fat of the land there for another few minutes... ah, but who am I, a mere law-abiding citizen, to second-guess you, a Man Both Of And Above The Law? Clearly, you were wondering about me too, as you again directed your hard, long shaft of flashlit desire in my direction. Did you realize how you missed me? (To tell the truth, you just barely missed me.) Did you wonder what I was doing back there, all alone in the dark, handling my tiny, tight little air hose? (It's free at QT, you know.) How I hoped you'd come to inquire as to the state of my tires and my safety -- me, a woman alone late at night with obvious mechanical concerns. Why, it would only be the deed of a good citizen, to come and check on a comely, lonely lass! Alas, no, you did not, although had you done so, you would have seen that my registration is a month out of date. Oops, how embarrassing! Ah well, perhaps our paths will cross again, oh chubby star-crossed starlit speeding object of my vehicular affections and infractions. Until then, I will miss your recklessness and obvious derring-do, but I will survive... as best I can. Godspeed, brave sir, and good luck cuffing your next Coca-Cola collar! webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-02-16T01:38:19-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/134322209.html Hot Dekalb Police officer pulling into QT off Ptree Industrial - w4m text needing a poo whilst driving? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/118959599.html the most unfortunate thing for me , living otp and especially in cherokee county are the lack of shops open late, especially if one needs a really big poo, well a hot spicy poo after eating jalpenos earlier in the day. well i went to work, downtown so i normally have to leave at 6am, wake at 530, but i get constipationm in the morning so i didnt poo. at work had a cup of tea, brekkie, still no poo? lucnhtime came around adn i had jalapenos, and salad. hot!! well did my work, hadnt had a poo and met my wife, had hot, spicy soup and some thai dish and lots of jasmine tea and water. then as soo as i sat in my car, the familiar bowel movement, shaking and tingly skin from a really hot dose of spices. damn i had to drive from roswell to alpharetta kroger with extreme turtles head, sweating and if i had farted then i would have filled my pants. i literally ran into kroger clutching my arse and pulling off my pants it spurted out, probably the most satisfying poo in my life, the first bit that came out was hard, like a plug, then it all came out like water from a firehose. fucking hell it was wonderful. cleaning myself up i went back to my car. ignition, started to drive, oh hell, the same tingly feeling, stomach squealching, "but i just had my poo?" i said to myself. fuck it i can make it home. driving as ffast as i could up hwy140 i got the sweats, and i need ed to poo right there, it was dark and the more i thought about stopping in a street adn shitting the more it kept almost sqelching out. so to make some room i decided to fart, but "oh fuck please no" a steady stream came out. so here i was speeding up hwy 140 and quite literally shitting my pants. so each time i farted it kept coming out and there was no where to stop. by the time i got home i had filled up my underwear and shit had splattered all up my back from the pressure of sitting. in the garage i stripped naked, fearful that my wife would open the door and see her naked husband, in the garage covered in shit. well she had locked the fucking door! i had no door key only teh garage door clicker, so i had to wipe off the shit and put my trousers back on, i stank. luckily her sister had come over earlier and left the fucking door unlocked, thanks couldve been burguled but at least it was lucky for me. anyway my wife was in the bath and i had to shower downstaris. she never found out. i had to clean my car seat. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-12-17T23:34:38-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/118959599.html needing a poo whilst driving? text I don't know about blindness, but masturbation can be dangerous http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/84259258.html Let's just say, 'hypothetically', that I decided to flogg my dolphin last night just before retiring for the evening. And let's just say that when I went to pee in the morning, some dried manchowder might have dried up around the opening to my prick, blocking the flow of urine. And let's just say that that blockage, might have caused urine to back up inside my rod for a second or two, creating an unusually fierce spray of piss pressure once said blockage was busted. And let's just say that this high-velocity piss-stream shot off at a 45-degree angle to the left because of said blockage. Let's just imagine that this 45-degree angle cause me to hit the ear of the cat who was perched not too far away, causing said cat to 'flip out,' screech, and perform a 4-legged leap with a half-twist and quarter roll (diffuculty of 6.8). Let's just say there may have been an empty glass resting on the back of the toilet, which may or may not have been tossed off the back of the toilet by said cat in the aforementioned jump. That glass, we might say, falls really close to my foot, lodging a small shard of glass into my left foot. This lodging of glass shard may have caused me to immediately grab said left foot, creating a situation of hopping on one leg (while still relieving myself, mind you) on a tile surface which is becoming increasingly wetter by the second. Let's just say that it only takes a few hops on one foot on a slippery surface to end a physical event of such fashion. AND LET'S JUST SAY that once my foot was taken out from underneath me, that I crashed into the shower door, knocking it off its tracks and causing me to fall in the shower and somehow ending in a back down, face up position, legs elevated, with blood running down my leg, pee streaming down my body to my neck, and a new head-welt with massive headache to boot. Let this be a lesson to you, next time you feel like rubbing your pole. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-07-13T16:25:32-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/84259258.html I don't know about blindness, but masturbation can be dangerous text Dear Moe's and Joe's http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/80268639.html What the hell gives you the right to serve delicious PBR until two in the morning for the low low price of 3.25/pitcher while simultaneously packing your homely little watering hole with young hotties? Its as if you've looked deep within my soul and discovered I have a serious problem controlling myself around these two things, then decided to make both of them readily accessible to the point of obsenity when I have to work in the morning. Fuck you Moe's and Joe's. Pitchers #1 & 2: I arrive fashionably late. Meet up with 5 friends of mine. Small talk. Game 6. Go Pistons. Pitcher #3: I introduce myself to friend's date. She looks like Jewel without the snaggle tooth. I remind myself this is my friend's date and I should keep Jewel fetish to myself. Pitcher #4: Buddies and I spot woman who seems to be bestowed with the finest ass God has ever created. She is unfortunately surrounded by balding 30ish dudes and even worse, enjoying their attention. (If I was the bitter type, this is where I'd join the bandwagon and complain about Atlanta women being heartless golddiggers. However, I realize that at some point I will probably be 30ish, balding and still single. However I'll most likely be making more money than I currently do and it will be then that women like her will be attainable. For now, I'll just bide my time.) Pitcher# 5: Jewel strikes up converstation with me while buddy is in bathroom. Asks me where I went to school, what I do, yadda yadda.... she's so hot. Cannot get 'Who Will Save Your Soul' out of my head. She can save mine any day. And by save my soul I obviously mean make sweet, sweet love to me in the back of the volkswagon van she is living out of while struggling to make it as a folk musician. Whoa... lost myself there for a second. Buddy comes back and Jewel seems to be ignoring buddy. Fuck. I mention something buddy does to remove myself from no-win situation and shift her focus back to him. Realize having a conscious is totally overrated. Pitcher# 6: Pistons win and I give a fist pound to token thugged out black dude in booth behind me. Huge ass zircon ring cuts my knuckle wide open and I make a small sceen as I walk/bleed my way to the bar for medicinal beverage napkins. Thugged out black dude complains about the "white boy dat bleed on my bling". One buddy excuses himself because he "has to wake up early in the morning for work." I remind myself I have to do the same and should probably get going soon. I also taunt buddy for being a "raging pussy". Pitcher# 7: I demand to know why bartender won't sell me pitcher# 8 with #7 because, goddamnit I have $6.50 burning a hole in my pocket and my friends are thirsty. Poor bartender repeatedly explains to me that ass crowded bar means not a whole lot of available pitchers and I am not the only one in the bar drinking. Fact that world does not revolve around me seems foreign and frustrating. Pitcher# 8: Papa Roach song comes on the Jukebox and I loudly demand to know who in their right mind would play such a musical pile of dog shit. After a few minutes of ranting, I meet cute girl who hates shitty band as much as I do. 2 minutes into our Papa Roach bashing it becomes clear cute girl has even cuter moustache. Hate my luck as I always seem to have a chance with a cute girl with a major defect. Remind myself that I'm no longer in college and that I will regret taking her home. Pitcher# 9: Jewel and buddy leave. I stand up on the seat of my booth and politely remind everybody at the bar that its a school night and they should probably start heading home just like my 2 "worthless friends". I've just been told by email that I also asked them to "fuck their mothers for me" while they're at it. (This probably scored me no points with Jewel in the event that she chooses to dump my buddy) Medicinal beverage napkins have fallen off and I am aware, but ambivalent to the fact that I am bleeding on my favorite t-shirt. I tell my 2 remaing friends I'm going to walk home. After this pitcher, of course. They berate me for all of 5 seconds before I give in and agree to stay. Pitcher# 10: I challenge my 2 remaining (and jobless) friends to a game of quarters. Only to celebrate our 10th pitcher of the night I suggest we use dimes. I bring two quarters to the bar and ask for 5 dimes. Bartender hates me. I tip him 2 dimes for the exchange. Bartender hates me even more. Playing quarters with dimes not nearly as fun. Switch back to using quarters and destroy my friends. However, I do lose the game in which we've bet that the loser has to go and talk to amazing-ass-girl. Pitcher# 11: I agree to bet on the grounds I don't have to pay for last pitcher. Friends agree. Walk over towards amazing ass girl feels incredibly slow. I cannot tell whether this is because her ass has me locked in its hypnotic tractor beam or because the gallon of beer I've drank so far probably has my BAC hovering around .25. I squeeze in between the 3 potbellied 30 somethings surrounding her and lean against the bar as I look her square in the eye. Her gaze meets mine and I am slightly disappointed at my first good look at her face. I tell her so. This apparently makes me an asshole and largest 30 something kindly informs me that I'll have to "move my skinny ass before he runs it over". I ask him whether or not that meant he mistook me for a homosexual and that I'm flattered, but not gay. 2 remaining (jobless, but caring) friends take it upon themselves to escort me home. I am disappointed because large 30 something and I had so much to talk about. Zig zag my way home and wake up fully clothed. Awesome. So now I'm sitting at my desk. Its almost noon and the 800 pound gorilla playing the cymbals in my head has not stopped since 7am. My farts smell like limburger and death. I've nodded off twice. Thank you Moe's and Joe's. Thank you for nothing. See you next Tuesday. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-22T12:07:46-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/80268639.html Dear Moe's and Joe's text For Chrissakes, Can I Eat a F#%*ing Taco in Peace? http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/79170452.html I'm not hardcore about it, but I do love me some Mexican food. However, when I've had my cravings, I can't seem to eat a fucking taco without someone ruining the experience. Case 1 - Taco Bell, Ponce de Leon. So I'm on my way from one place to another - I decide to go through the drive thru - but I don't feel like trying to eat the tacos while driving, so I pull into the parking lot to sit and eat 'em. Next thing I know, some mangey looking fucker starts beating on my window - I figured he was asking for some money, and through the window it sounds like he's saying something like "Do you have a heart?." So I'm like, 'no - go away.' He doesn't leave, so I roll down the window, so I can hear him, and he says "Do you want some hard." 'What?, Hard? What do you mean?'. And he explains he means "Do you want some 'crack'?" I told him I was good and stocked up on the crack and didn't need anymore - thankfully, he left and did not persist. Case 2 - Smyrna/Vinings area taco bell. Again going through the drive-thru. This time as I'm ready to give them my money, the cashier/manager is climbing out of the drive-thru window. I'm looking at him with surprise, not knowing any reason why an employee would be climbing out of the window. He says "sorry, but the building's on fire - here's your food, don't worry about the money" I look in and sure enough, all i can see in the kitchen is smoke. I guess I can't complain too much, cause I got some free food. Case 3 - Savoy Drive Taco Bell, Dunwoody. I'm eating in the Dining Room, and this disgusting fatbody of a man is basically getting jerked off underneath the table by his girlfriend directly in my plain view. I immediately throw away all lunch items contain Sour Cream. Case 4 - El Patino, Buford Highway. Some decripit, saggy mess of a woman is sitting on the patio a couple tables away. She looked like death and was basically coughing up hair balls for a solid five minutes. Between her ghastly appearance, the chronic bronchitus, and the low-quality, grizzled steak in my fajitas, I completely loose my appetite and nearly spew my dinner out. Case 5 - Yesterday. Taco Bell, Lawrenceville. First, I pull in to a parking space and notice that smoke is coming out of my hood - engine is overheated - fantastic. Then I'm standing in line behind a couple - the girl is a blimp, and her skinny, peach-fuzzed doofus boyfriend is wearing some shirt that says "Sex is like Surfing, Enjoy the Ride" or something like that. Dude, if your girl weighs 2-bills, please don't wear shirts that make me have to imagine you riding her like a whale-shark. Then, as I'm eating, a group of young guys at the table next to me launch into a full-on, two-minute pre-meal blessing. Hey - guys! You are eating Taco Bell, not the Last Supper! I don't know if this is some sort of sign or if this is a nation-wide trend at Mexican establishments, but I'm going to start wearing a sign that says "Don't Fuck with My Taco Experience!" so I can be one with my 'Inner-Beaner' Thank you for your time, and if you've had similar experiences, please do share - or write to your Congressman webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-06-16T11:33:51-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/79170452.html For Chrissakes, Can I Eat a F#%*ing Taco in Peace? text To the dead guy who had it in for me http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/75506942.html I know that dying qualifies you to win the 'worse day than mine' title, but still, did you have to try and drag me down with you? When we got the call at the funeral home that you had passed, I realize it's not your fault, but couldn't you have done it a bit earlier in the day or perhaps 30 miles closer? Nothing like a removal at a hospital on a Friday afternoon during rush hour. Seeing that I had plans to go out that evening, I could already feel that it wasn't going to get any better from this point on. "At least the body is in the morgue", I think to myself before I depart on my trip... Upon arrival at the loading dock of the hospital (one and a half hours later) a security guard in a golf cart pulls up to the passenger side of the van to give me parking instructions. He signals for me to roll down the window, which is a pain because the owner of the funeral home is too cheap to spring for automatic windows, so I lean across to manually lower it. Little do I know that someone has decided to remove the pin in the fire extinguisher that is stored between the seats, and has also conveniently placed it with the handle to the floorboard of the van. So, as I lean over, I push on the extinguisher and before I know it, myself and the interior of the vehicle are blanketed with a white powder. Damn! A new black suit too! I am so embarrassed, and the rent-a-cop just looks at me like I'm an idiot. I park and get out of the van, knowing that I have white stuff in my hair and eyelashes, etc, but at least I know I only have to go to the basement morgue, so I won't have to wander the halls looking this way. I pull the cot out of the van and grab my paperwork as the guard escorts me to the elevator. I make stupid small talk with him, and he informs me that the you are NOT in the morgue, but rather in your bed on the 4th floor where your family is waiting to talk to me. Super. I always want to come off as classy and dignified and LOOK AT ME!!! How am I supposed to console your widow like this? I do my best to brush off as much of the residue as I can, but it's a pretty poor attempt. We exit the elevator to the floor and your grieving family is waiting outside the room. I go to introduce myself, and try to explain my apperance, but they are simply too overcome with grief to care (or so I tell myself). I little later, I finally am allowed to go in and get the you on to the cot, but not before the security guy tells me doesn't "do bodies", so I'm on my own. No big deal, I'm a little woman, but I am used to going solo. Of course, the you are over 250 lbs, and the hospital bed is broken and will not raise up to the level of the cot, so I must drop the cot down and muscle you over by means of strategically placed sheets and leverage (no help from you!). I wrap the straps around you and tighten them so you don't fall off and get ready to pull the release and bring the cot back up to the proper level so I can go. Now, this part really pisses me off, because #1 somehow there is a puddle of water on the floor where I am standing and don't realize it and #2 my employer requires women to wear skirts, nylons and heels regardless of the fact that we do A LOT of manual labor. As I try to raise all 250 lbs. of you up, my feet lose traction due to the above mentioned issues and down I go with the cot and your body crashing down on my knees and legs. Holy Crap!!! The pain is intense, and I am literally pinned under you. Since the guard doesn't "do bodies" I am forced to dump the cot/body on it's side, causing the your dentures to go flying across the floor and under the curtain where your roommate is awoken by the crash. Stunned, I look down to see my knee has been punctured by a bolt on the cot and I am bleeding and my hosiery is all ripped up. I get up, grab the dentures from under the curtain while assuring the roommate that "everything is fine". I am now crying, shaken and trying to turn the cot back over and get it back up. Amazing what shear terror and adrenaline can do. Finally, I come out of the room limping, bleeding and red-nosed pushing the cot, and trying to act as though all is status-quo. I secretly hope that maybe people won't notice the white gunk anymore and focus on the blood and what-not. The guard escorts me back down the halls and to the van and never says a word. By now, I am just grateful to be hidden in the vehicle and on my way back to the funeral home, even in this traffic. I may end up being late for cocktails, but I hopeful nonetheless. Not once do you even apologize! I get back, and am informed by the supervisor that the night embalmer called in, and I have been elected his replacement (I KNOW he must be out somewhere enjoying the drink I feel so entitled to!) I tell the sup. what happened and am told to "be more careful" as he meanders out the door. Jerk!!! This sucks, but I figure if I hurry, I can catch up with everyone later. Right? Oh no, not today, you have it in for me... The embalming goes pretty smooth, you look peaceful and I am thrilled that the day is almost done. I go to aspirate you (a process somewhat like liposuction using a larger trocar and tip to puncture organs and suck out excess fluids in the body cavities), which is the last thing I need to do. To this day, I still can't explain how this happened, but as I went to reinsert the trocar into the abdomen, I somehow managed to stick it into the side of my hand by my thumb. The glove didn't do a thing to stop it, and now I have a small, painful hole in my hand contaminated with your dead body fluids. Instead of the bar, I ended the evening with a nice trip to the local E.R. due to company policy and the fear of bloodborne exposure. I'm not sure what I did to you, Mr. Deceased, for you to treat me like that, but I guess I can find some comfort in the fact that, as you and all your dead friends look down on me and laugh from heaven, that I got you back by cutting your suit up the back so you can walk around for eternity with your butt hanging out. Enjoy your dirt-nap. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-05-26T16:10:11-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/75506942.html To the dead guy who had it in for me text A Pro-lifer Repents http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/67372069.html I am self-righteous. I am unforgiving. I am a conservative asshole. But I have had a life-changing experience that showed me how arrogant and ignorant I really am. **DISCLAIMER** I didn't spell-check I'm not a literary genius I just want to share with you the fact that I was WRONG. Here's my story. I used to be one of those people who stuck up her nose at the thought of welfare, abortion, affirmative action, whatever. I saw myself as "conservative" and that the poor were poor because they were lazy, the pregnant got pregnant because they slept around with no protection and used abortion as birth control, and that the government shouldn't help out others because they just abuse it. I felt this way not becuase I have deep moral or religious views, I was just an ignornat slob who had no clue about real problems. Well. The unthinkable happened. I GOT PREGNANT. I was on the pill, took it correctly and religiously, but still got knocked up. I WAS FREAKED. Never been pregnant before, and in the past when a woman said she was pregnant I thought "Aren't you used to this by now? You're just going to abort it and start all over again." NEVER did I consider what an emotional blow this is. Everything in my life stopped. I mean - me...pregnant?!?!?! But I was so careful! But I am a good person! But I can't have a BABY!!! This kind of thing happens to crackwhores and junkies, right???? WRONG. So I had options: have it. don't have it. Was that really an option? FOR ME?? I can't have an abortion! I am against that, right?!?!? Well, I wasn't. I am not above it. I am not above or better than anyone who has had one, or two, or five. ANYONE WHO HAS HAD TO MAKE THIS KIND OF CHOICE KNOWS WHAT I MEAN! It's the most impossible decision a person can make. It hurt down to the core of me. How could I judge ANY woman (or man) that has had to make this choice? It is horrific. Miserable. Painful. Life-changing. So I made the choice. I decided to terminate my pregnancy. My first, my only. I made an appoinment. I was scared as hell. The cattle call began at 7am with PROTESTERS! Protesters outside the clinic screaming "That's a BAD BAD place! Get away! You are sick for what you are doing!!" I wanted to turn around and scream "You don't know SHIT about my life and my problems! BACK OFF!!" They were relentless, shaming, and cruel. I felt so degraded and dirty. How dare they judge me? They don't know the pain I am in...the misery of making this choice....how dare they! So in I went, after being searched by a police officer who was making sure no one wsa going to bomb the place. UNREAL! People HURT other people over this issue!! Like it isn't hard enough?! In the waiting room were 8-10 MISERABLE people, including boyfriends, sisters, friends, husbands. And they were all petrified. I had no idea. No clue what these people had to go through. Now here I was amongst them. Waiting my turn. And BOY what a wait. 1 hour in the waiting room. Then you go pee into a cup and fill out your paperwork, and wait another hour in a little room with 7 other girls who are scared as hell, and no one wants to look at one another due to their own shame or embarrassment. I felt for these women as I had never felt for anyone before. So when you are finally called, they take you into another little room where you wait to have lab work done. Then you have a sonogram done by a MEAN woman. She says "yup you're pregnant." Thanks lady. But the worst part is waiting pre-op in your little gown and hat and booties again with 7 other girls. Then the moment of truth. They strap you in. Legs in the air, tush in the wind. Before you know it they put you put and you wake up feeling like hell. You collect your things and go home. Done. I'm sorry for the judging, for the intolerance, for my ignorance. Who am I to decide what you should and should not to do with your body. Thank God abortion is legal and safe. I have many amends to make. Pro-Choice. webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-07T14:13:25-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/67372069.html A Pro-lifer Repents text To the woman in my life http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/66679224.html I know you will read this! I thought that I will tell you this here instead of on the phone just so you could read this for yourself. You are the most awesome thing to have ever entered my life. You make me complete. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world. You make me look at myself like I have never looked at myself before. You are God's gift to me, hell you make me believe that there must indeed be a God up there that looks out for, and wants the best for, folks like us. I feel like calling up my parents and thanking them for giving birth to me, so I could meet and go out with a person like you. Never have I felt such intensity for a girl like I feel for you. I had almost given up on them till you came along like a breath of fresh air in my life. You make me who I am. I yearn to feel you in my arms every second that I am away from you. Those delicate hazel eyes, that angelic smile, that sweet smelling hair and the good humour and laughter dancing in your eyes turns me to jelly every time I look at you. The way your head fits perfectly on my shoulder makes me think that my shoulder was exactly made for your head. Your feminine and affectionate laughter at my jokes makes me think I'm the guy with the best sense of humour in Atlanta. The way you talk, confidently and sure of yourself, makes my knees knock against each other. You give my life a new meaning. Is this really me? How could I be so lucky? Why did God decide to make me the chosen one for your affection and love? Sometimes I feel afraid that you're just a mirage, for no man could be so lucky so as to have you as his girlfriend. All I need to reassure me is your voice on the phone and your good humoured laughter at my insecurity. What did I do to deserve you? Was it something I did in this life or in a previous life? Maybe I have been doing good in all my lives, for the good deeds of just one life could never be enough to have earned your affections. I am the luckiest man alive today. I could care less about my degree and job. I could lose those and every possession I have and still feel like the luckiest man alive if you're by my side. Thank you for choosing me, S. Thank you God for giving her to me. I could spend this lifetime thanking the both of you and that still won't be enough. If I'm the heart, you're the heartbeat If I'm a human, you're my soul I'm a man, and you're surely my destiny. As long as there's a moon and stars, as long as there are the rivers and mountains, as long as the earth goes round the sun, I will be forever yours and yours alone. From the luckiest man alive, S webmaster@craigslist.org 2005-04-03T00:55:27-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/66679224.html To the woman in my life text Lesbian seeks platonic Sugar Daddy http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/50443632.html Hi there. I've noticed something lately. There are a lot of women out there without jobs galavanting around in new cars wearing nice clothes and eating at expensive resturaunts. I work my butt off and I barely scrape by. This really got me to thinking, and I've made a decision. Yes, I am a lesbian, but I want a sugar daddy. So I'm making an offer. First, a little bit about me: I am a 24 year old Lesbian. I have great features, but I've kind of taken the boyish route as far as hair style and clothes go. I can show you high school pictures that prove I have knock out potential. I'm 5'8" and about 145. Blah, blah, blah...I'm cute. I have a great sense of humor. I work at a bar. I'm a singer/songwriter and I play guitar. I like sports, movies, and Thai food. Here is what I can do for you: I will clean your house. I will do your laundry. I will run your dishwasher (you must have a dishwasher). I will cook your dinner (or make dinner reservations). I will throw lavish parties for your friends and/or business partners. I will run errands, do the grocery shopping, take the dog to the vet, get the oil changed in the Beamer and the Escalade, and buy you new socks and underwear. I will answer the phone when it's someone you don't want to talk to and tell them that you are very busy and can't talk (when you are really just watching the Falcon's game in your leather recliner, kicked back with a bottle of Newcastle and some cashews). (With some help from my gay friends) I will revamp your wardrobe (and most likely your hair style and grooming habits) and make you irresistible to straight women. I will not sleep with you, but I will GET YOU LAID. A LOT. In short, I will be a cross section of the most important people in any man's life. I'll be your best bud, your maid, your personal assistant, your gay friend, your lesbian friend, your confidant, your lackie, your "yes" man, and of course - your gay wife who doesn't sleep with you or fight with you and actually encourages you to bring home other women - hot women. And, if you're lucky, and I get really drunk, I might have amorous relations with one of those hot women you bring home and let you watch. And all I ask in return is: I get my own room in your very nice house and you buy me anything and everything I want. If this is an offer you just can't refuse, drop me a line and we'll do lunch - on you. Peace, B  <table><tr><td align=center><img src="http://b.im.craigslist.org/7f/ur/50UijY7qeMn0oSOlQLHg4bQCVA7Q.jpg"></td> <td align=center> </td></tr> <tr><td align=center> </td> <td align=center> </td></tr></table>  this is in or around Midtown webmaster@craigslist.org 2004-11-28T17:10:17-05:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/50443632.html Lesbian seeks platonic Sugar Daddy text I don't mind sucking you off, but here's what I need from you http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/42452492.html Wow. It's been great making out with you, a real live boy, on this couch for 15 minutes. I can see that now, after the conversation we had and the beer you bought me after your friend introduced us at the party, you think it's about time you enjoyed the fruits of your labor. About time you got a blow job from me. And let me tell you, you came to the right place. Because the world is populated by guys like you; in fact I'm willing to bet there's not one man in the whole wide world who doesn't think he deserves an on-the-couch blow job the first time he makes out with someone, so fear not. This is territory that any girl over the age of 15 has seen many, many times. So don't think I won't do it. There's just a few things I need from you first. First, I would appreciate it if you would wash your genitals once a day. Just once a day. Heck, you can even do it while you're IN the shower washing anyway. Because guys like you -- don't blame me for presuming -- often live under the gross misunderstanding that their genitals do not stink. Oddly, this is simultaneously the VERY SAME reason they give for not giving us girls oral sex. Listen while I compare the maintenance habits of me and you -- it'll only take a second and I'll get right to it, swear to God. So. Here's what girls do. We scrub our genitals -- front to back, inside and out -- every day under a high-pressure stream of hot water, using expensive soap designed to both moisturize and leave a pleasant scent. Then we shave most of our genitals. You might think that's an easy task. No, no, my friend. It is not easy. It requires bending, twisting, squatting, stretching and sometimes a hand-held mirror. It must be done every day, but it cannot be rushed. What may be passed off as a "nick" on, say, my knees or your face, can rise to the level of emergency-room-visit when wielding a sharp object so near one's particulars. So. The shaving. Then once a month we go to a snooty spa and spend $80 -- without tip -- for a wax. That's even more fun. That's where we climb up on a table wearing paper panties and then a stranger walks in and starts applying hot wax to our genitals. Often they ask us to assume a particalurly demeaning position -- on all fours, say, or holding one ankle above our heads -- to get every last hair off. And, dude, it hurts. Really. Once we're properly hairless, then we apply TendSkin to prevent red bumps, lotion to prevent any flaky skin and high-priced exfoliating scrub every other day to prevent ingrown hairs. When all is well, we scent our panties and go about our dressing for our big date with you, the super cute boy. Why all this preparation, you ask? It's just so that when we DO manage to be making out with you, you can scrunch up your nose, look at our genitals and say that you "don't do that." You're like, "Sorry, it's not you, I just don't..." And we're like, "Oh, no. It's OK," secretly resenting every painful minute of our genital-prep time. OK, OK, that's us. Now here's you. You probably run a wet bar of Irish Spring under your armpits every morning and, if we're lucky, maybe take a swipe near your unmentionables. That's the beginning and the end, am I right? You might be surprised to find that Irish Spring or no, you STILL may be stinky. It's true! See, guys secrete sweat and stuff down there, just like girls. And it's an area that never gets any sunlight or fresh air, just like girls. You piss and shit and sometimes it doesn't all go away, just like girls. You have hair down there, just like girls. See where I'm going with this? You may stink as bad -- nay, worse! -- than me, the lucky lady about to put your cock and balls in my mouth. But have you ever heard a girl say she "doesn't do that"? Exactly. We don't say that. So do me a favor, please, and tomorrow start scrubbing your gentials with the same fervor I scrub mine. And consider buying wet toilet paper, it really does help you stay clean throughout the day. Anytime you think you might be perfectly clean, just rub a finger around your testicles and butt crack, then smell it. If comes up Irish Spring, perfect. If not, just think. I'm going to have to put my face in that. So. Sorry to blabber on so long. I promise I'm almost done and we can start the fabuloso blow job I know you've been thinking about ever since that fateful night when you looked at me and said, "'Sup?" Just a couple more things. Listen to me now. I give pretty good blowjobs. Seriously. I do. For a non-porn-star, I'm willing to bet this is about as good as you're ever going to get. But hear me out. If you want to put your dick in my mouth, that is perfectly fine with me. But you need to respect the fact that my teeth were there first. I can't, sadly, do anything with them as the Good Lord has seen fit to leave me all my teeth at this late age of 26 and I don't have dentures. So if you have a serious problem with teeth touching your penis, here's what I suggest you do: Don't put your dick in other people's mouths. See, that's where all the teeth are. It is soooo easy to avoid getting my teeth against your dick. Just stop putting it in my mouth. Voila! If you insist on putting your dick in my mouth, and I can see that you do, I can promise to do my best to dis-locate my jaw to give you a blowjob that is all suck, spit and tongue. But sometimes you may feel a tooth. Whoops! No need to freak out. The same goes for anal sex, should we ever find ourselves down that path in the future. If you ever want to put your dick up my ass, and don't even pretend, I know you will, that's OK. As long as I feel like you care about me and respect me, that's totally OK. But if I let you put your dick up my butthole, please don't freak out if, afterward, you discover a speck of fecal matter on your penis on our way to the shower. Wow. That really embarasses me, believe me. No need to point it out. And if you do point it out, I can tell you there's a simple solution for not getting fecal matter on your penis. What you do is, stop putting it in other people's assholes. See how easy that is? But I digress. We're not talking about anal sex here, are we? We're talking about oral sex, about the blowjob you expect from me because you got me that Amstel Light at the show, when you totally could've just gone Coors Light. My hat's off, sir. You deserve a treat. So here goes. Now that we've had this little talk, I hope our oral sex experiences can be positive for both of us. Oh. One last thing. I'm going to swallow, OK?, and that doesn't mean I love you and want to marry you. That means I'll taste it less and won't have your semen coursing over my tongue as I spit it out. So don't read anything into that. Thanks for listening, and enjoy. this is in or around Atlanta webmaster@craigslist.org 2004-09-14T16:59:09-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/42452492.html I don't mind sucking you off, but here's what I need from you text Missed Connection - Female Crickets http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/38887364.html To the female crickets located near my basement apartment. You missed your chance last night with one of the most eligible cricket bachelors last night. The reason: he's dead! The male cricket, let's just call him Jim, really fucked up. He had his chance to score some cricket-poontang last night, but he made two big mistakes. The first mistake was looking for love in my bedroom. If he had done a little research he would know that females are present in my bedroom about as often as Hale-Bopp comet passes by the Earth. Jim the Cricket was looking for love in all the wrong places. The second mistake was singing his love serenade, aka his mating call, or chirping I like to call it, in my room at 3AM. I was having quite a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night, and just when I was starting to doze . . . you guessed it - CHIRP!! CHIRP!! CHIRP!! I was pissed and left a nice impression of my knuckles in the dry wall. This is where the hunt begins. The trouble with hunting crickets at night is that they only chirp when the lights are off, so it's hard to find them. If you turn on the light, they run and hide. Me, being the crafty, resourceful devil that I am, found two key items that allowed me to bag my trophy cricket: a headlamp flashlight and a rubber mallet. So off the lights went . . . and I listend for the sound. Sure enough I was able to locate his approximate location by sound. So I flipped on the headlamp quick enough to see him scurry into the little gap between the carpet and the floor molding where I had tucked in my speaker wires. In a shear act of brilliance, I whipped the speaker wire up, popping old Jim out on to the floor, where he met the brutal force of my rubber mallet. So, you see, you little cricket strumpets, last night instead getting a good cricket sticking from Jim, you were left all alone. Tell the boys that the Cricket Hunter is out there, so beware. I bid you aideu. this is in or around My bedroom webmaster@craigslist.org 2004-08-09T21:17:47-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/38887364.html Missed Connection - Female Crickets text Seeking Spanish Speaking Friends who do not want to date me, etc. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/15820460.html I am seeking Spanish-speaking friends to practice and learn more Spanish and, in exchange, I will offer practice and assistance with English, if you so desire. This seems like a simple enough request, doesn't it? Trust me, I have tried and tried and tried to no avail. What always ends up happening is that a Spanish-speaking male (usually much younger than me) contacts me and ends up wanting to date me, sleep with me, or to be his girlfriend, wife, or whatever. THIS IS NOT WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR! Women just don't contact me at all for some unknown reason. Now I can't help it that I am a very nice person and actually pretty hot, especially for my age (I am a 40-yr old female but look younger), but that does not mean that I want to go out with you, especially if you are only in your 20s. I only want to learn Spanish, okay? If you understand this and this will work for you, please contact me. I only want to learn Spanish, I swear. I don't need dates, boyfriends, husbands, or whatever. Thank you very much. webmaster@craigslist.org 2003-09-04T21:57:35-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/15820460.html Seeking Spanish Speaking Friends who do not want to date me, etc. text That was one nasty dump you gave me, Mr Waffle House cook http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/13517527.html Thanks alot for the greasy ass cheesteak. I really needed a pck me up at four thirty the other day after drinking to the point I could barely walk. I really did. What I didn't need was the ensuing ferocious dump that shot out my ass the following morning. Now I'm sure you're asking yourself, "how bad could it be?" Okay, let me tell you. It all started innocently enough, I sat down on a cold ring of porceline, picked up a mag, and got to work. What followed will haunt me every time I enter the facilities. A great stream of molten feces shot forth from my ass, carrying with it a pungent wave of putrid fart gasses. Liquid quickly gave way to foam. Imagine shaking a beer and popping the top. Now make that beer human excrement as green as the day is long, then invert the can and replace it with my white ass. Through even the many foldings of two ply paper the liquid soaked. Many flushes were flushed to suck down the wretched beast. Yet I and the throne beneath remained vigilant, steadfast, unyielding. There was no going back. My ass now burning with the fire of a thousand suns, I pushed, squinting, face red with strain, forcibly casting from my entrails the demons within. With one great "hhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnn, hhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmuughhhgh, aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I at last expelled that which had poisoned me, your cheesteak sandwitch. Still wiping, both my anus and the sweat from my brow, I slowly began to reclaim my flesh from under the curtain of poop that had so thickly draped it. My hindquarters no longer drowning in a sea of brown, I jumped into the shower for a more thourough cleansing of my cock balls and ass. Exhausted, I collapsed into the loving arms of my bed where I stayed for the rest of the day. Never again will I eat your sandwitch Mr Waffle House Cook. Never again will I suffer such post-meal indignities at your hands. Never again. You asshole. webmaster@craigslist.org 2003-07-13T23:46:51-04:00 Copyright 2009, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/atl/13517527.html That was one nasty dump you gave me, Mr Waffle House cook text