No pretense this time, no hint of a tease or anything that could be misconstrued as sexual. I would be a blank slate. The only perviness would come from the other side of this unwholesomely shaded rainbow.
I want to take a minute to talk about saving a bunch of money on car insurance.
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"Sign this and then we'll be together always!"
Is anything more boner-wilting than that sentence? Maybe if I had evoked Jesus instead of insurance, but even then it's a tough call. I sent out the reply to everyone and waited. This would do it. I was sure. I was so sure. You already know I was wrong, but for a moment I was positive this would end it.
"I'm confuse. What is I like it dirty to do with insurance"
This response wasn't so off-putting. The grammar is an issue, but I didn't tense my anus reading it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
The next response came from the man who wants to have sex with his brother. It was a massive, poor-resolution photo of a lady in a very compromising position with his phone number. I was immediately rendered unhappy.
"Send me a Photo of You. I'll give you Such Bone."
Was that the title of a thesis? Did he even read the insurance email? On the upside, it had eliminated a number of responders. Only five people wrote back. I had even lost Samberg Stallone, and I was sure he was going to threaten to smother me in raw meat if I didn't do as he said.
This was the next response:
"Are we gonna screw o what?"
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"Sure Jaysus, my name be Screwy O'What! Touch my shillelagh!"
Irish sex? No. Just another grammatical butt cramp. Desperation was hanging by its final, frazzled thread. The miserable, gnarled boners of the Craigslist wastelands were becoming frustrated snuffling about the trunk of a tree that bore no hump truffles. Patience was waning like the libido of Hugh Hefner's newest shame sink.
Being a mentally deficient poop enthusiast was OK by Craigslist standards, but I knew the terrible truth of what direction I had to take this. If my goal was truly to find out what a Craigslist deviant found to be too much, I really had only one option left. You may think there were more -- proposing we have sex in a casket, suggesting I'd also enjoy giving a yogurt enema, things of that nature -- but odds are at least one guy would consider me his dream girl if I brought that up. And therein was the secret to putting a nail in this experiment's gross coffin (a coffin we would not be having coitus in). I had to not be a dream girl at all.
"My name is Jerome. I haven't showered in a week. My lust python is a solid 5 inches of venom-spitting fury with dreadfully precise aim. I'm ready to get married. What's your number?"
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But pythons don't spit ... oh, I get it. Gross.
The sad truth of this world is that the most awful thing you can be in the eyes of a sex C.H.U.D. is the same kind of sex C.H.U.D., which is to say a man. I suppose that's very slightly tragic in its way, that these guys would happily have Virgin-Mary-cabin-poop sex with a batfish-lipped middle-aged woman, but a man is just ludicrous. Or was it? I got one reply to the five emails I sent out with that message from Jerome. Only one.
"No thanks, I'm not gay."
Guess who sent that message. Yes, it was the guy who wanted a threesome with his brother. I felt a pang somewhere deep inside, wondering if perhaps his name was Lenny and he wasn't allowed to spend time with bunnies. Did he have a brother, or did people put him in a small animal corral with a crusty, foul pillow that they called his brother? I had to send him one final message, the end to this tawdry tale.
"I think we should see other people. Goodbye forever."
Thus ended our relationship. The email address I used is now abandoned, the e-communication equivalent of a mental institution shut down and forgotten, only to be opened again for the potential horror movie atmosphere it will provide in another generation. What is too terrible for Craigslist? Nothing. Nothing is too terrible. Directed at the right audience, you will always find a taker for whatever brand of madness you're espousing. Is that good or bad? Well, it's often gross, but that's the only definite answer I can provide, and that's pretty relative. One person's gross is another man's threesome with his brother and a feces-lovin' lady friend.