Bad Poetry Thursday: Michiganderr

Hopefully I've exorcised most of the Michigan out of me this week, though it was fun!

My stayd’s shapped like a midden.
I-usta live here. Now I live here.
Close ta da big lake.
Led me show ya on ma hand.
I’ma Michiganderr.

Exid 69. The Big BEEver. I-sevendy-five.
Stop near Flin. Tony’s. Home of the Big Samwich.
The hunder’s special: 5 gallons of chili.
Pounda bacon. Samwiches.
Onda wayda deer camp.

Maahm wanded us guys ta take the Chriscraft out.
She say’s, “it’s geddin’ late in da season.”
“Led’s cruise LayKEEie on las-dime. Hava cole one.”
But I said, “Maahm, deeahd ‘n’ us guys
Argoin’ hunin’ this weeken.”

In Gaylerd we stop at Meijer’s.
Pick up some supplies.
Ammo. 2 gallons of melk. Stroh’s.
Huntin’ licenses.
Feelin’ da calla da wuds.

Over Da Bridge. Up neerda Soo.
Inda landofda Yooper.
Oudin da wuds. Da sounda nachure.
Da foilage seemsda strech FREVer.
Geeze-O-Pete id’s cole.

Id’s deer camp. An all us guys are happy.
Away from da women and da big ciddies.
Deerburn, aehNarbor,
Grrarapids, Di’TROI!
Camp’s finally dethawed.

We drink our Stroh’s and play Euchre
And reminisce about poor Jimmy
Who drownded in the lake last year.
We goddar guns. We goddar ammo.
But we never shood no deer.

Hiyuh guys! If yuh like sexy accented fellas...

Michigan guy again! I guess I'm feeling nostalgic for a nice big cold glass of melk. Maybe he'll continue on into bad poetry Thursday!

... we can sit ahn my davenport, split a pop and eat some samwiches and tawk, eh?

How’zit goin’? Swm new tuh da area, da home of Cahngriss and da GoverMit. Da Big Ciddy! Wahw! All da big buildings…it’s like bein’ in da wuds (but with no guns or Stroh’s). I’m u-sta jest openin’ up the doorwall and hangin’ out on the padio with a cole one (though I gotsa say I doan miss climin’ up on da ruff and cleenin’ da eeevstraaaf).

Bout me? I’ve got ekceptional Michiganderr good looks (not some bunkin’ from Minnuhsoda, eh?), in shape (I play haahkee and curlin’), drive a Tie-oda, strong affinity fer bolth Vernors and da Canadian ballet.

Geez-Louise! I'm a real cloze-horse as yuh can see. Naht! But at least I like ta be COMFterbul. Yuh shood too. Fudgies not a problem, but would nice if yuhr pretty, slim and younger :)

Have a good one!

Dinner and Drinks? I've got a coupon!

Does cheap work?

I received a coupon in the mail today. $10 off a dinner at I Ricci! I'm bored hanging out at the same bar with the same friends drinking the same beer and listening to the same music on the same jukebox and would like to do something different. Maybe some coupon-related dining. I'm single, and I would like to hang-out with a cute girl for dinner and drinks between now and the end of August. The coupon is good through August. I'm 37, white, edgy, I have a professional job, I'm dark and broody and fun. If you're interested, feel free to email me back and tell me a little about yourself (a picture would be nice too). This offer, much like my coupon, will expire soon.

If ya like accents...

Accents are sexy...(permalink).

... we can drink a pop er maybe some melk from my frigerraider and split a pasty, eh? :)

Hi you guys! swm new tuh da ciddy with Michigan / Canadian look, acceptable shape, drive a Tie-oda, good curler with a strong affinity fer bolth Vernors and winter sports like haahkee and ice fishin'. Geez-o-pete! I'm a real cloze-horse as ya can see. Fudgies not a problem, but would nice if yer pretty, slim and younger :)

I u-sta live here not far frum da big lake.

I am the guy who...

I am the guy who has the world's most active imagination! (permalink).

Enters the bar, scanning the room for ladies that need a little Mr. BH action. I am the guy whose head bobs in rhythm to music only I can hear as I twirl my chest hair with thumb and index finger. I’m in my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. And yes that my medallion of a Buddha Vitarka Mudra flanked by a couple of Bodhisattvas resting on my rock hard pecs is solid gold. I am the guy who sees you from across the bar with your friends. I am the guy who can intuit that you’re in serious need of the kind of hot animalistic man on woman sensuality that only I can provide...I am the guy who when our eyes connect, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You are mesmerized by my robust manliness as I approach ... I am the guy who orders Cadenhead's Old Raj Gin and Hybolin Decanoate…and for you an appletini ... I am the guy who you will come to find out later is a true romantic but for know we are intensely gazing into each other’s eyes... I am the guy who, while you’re not looking, slips a rohypnol into your drink because I am the guy who believes in love at first sight…I am also a guy who believes in chivalry so I will carry you back to my place when you pass out...I am the guy who, upon getting back to my place, will lay you gently in my bed and undress you...I am the guy who knows my confidence is a turn on for you unconscious or not… I am the guy who will then make love to you all night, videotaping everything so I can watch it later...I am the guy who puts you in a cab when you start to regain consciousness... I am this guy.

He gets letters:

"Ab fab!! Hilarious! By the way, you look incredibly like Rashid Karim!"

Bad Poetry Thursday: Chipati of my Youth

Here's a shout-out to any Michigan Alumni, Ann Arborites, or like me, both!

Chipati of my Youth

October 3, 1990
East and West Germany are reunited
3:00 AM the streets are quiet in Ann Arbor
The Diag bathed in moonlight
Careful! Don’t step on the M!
You won’t graduate.

Strolling home from a night of clubbing
Alternative Night! Nectarine Ballroom!
DJ Tom Simonian!
I feel a hunger deep in the pit of my soul
Pizza House! Pizza House!
Open until 4:00AM
And they deliver
Chipati.

Fresh baked whole wheat pita
Stuffed with nature’s bounty
Crispy lettuce, green pepper, sweet red pepper,
Mushroom, tomato
Feta? Add two dollars
Sauce on the side.

The mysterious sauce still haunts me
16 years later
This sauce, bathing my veggies
Soaking into my fresh baked pita
Tangy and hot and red
Sensory overload.

Oh Chipati
Oh glorified salad-in-a-pita
Served with mysterious red sauce on the side
You have many fans
Some enthusiastic
Some still in the closet
We wonder what black art created thee

Alchemy? It must be
You, saucy red enigma
Give forth your secrets
Unveil your magical olfactory melange
Of what are you made?
Ranch dressing, Frank’s RedHot Sauce,
And the philosopher’s stone…
Ketchup

He gets letters:

"I grew up in Ann Arbor. Haven't thought about the Nectarine Ballroom since I was... oh... 17. Thanks for the nostalgia injection."

"umm. what does all this mean?" (with pic attached)

I believe "Somewhere in Time (Collector’s Edition)" was…

Yes, Drew is cute, but have some respect for yourself... (permalink).

One of the most beautiful love stories told. I mean Superman falls in love with a painting of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and goes back in time to meet her! Can you beat that?

Sublimely Übersexual

Profoundly Überstupid (permalink).

In my personal life I strive for excellence in everything that I do: the way I dress, the quality of my work, and what I eat. Understanding the finer things is important to me. For example, I know that true Kobe beef can only be purchased in Japan and that Kobe “style” beef can be purchased in the U.S. I also know that Kobe beef can be prepared as steak, sukiyaki, shabu shabu, sashimi, and teppanyaki. Additionally, I possess awareness that Crottin de Chavignol is a finer cheese, than say, an American cheese like Kraft singles, and unlike Kraft singles, Crottin de Chavignol is best enjoyed on a cheese board. These are but a few of the finer things that I understand.

I have recently moved to the D.C. area. I seek a woman of equal passions, intelligence, and pretentions. A woman who possesses awareness of fine cheeses and beef. I am able to navigate any level of social strata with dignity, poise, and grace. I hold no prejudices except those who do not understand fine cheeses and beef. The eyes of all women are struck pleasant by my pulchritudinous visage. I posses neither ex-spouse nor child nor any baggage that I am equipped to cogitate. I am gainfully engaged in career activities. I give voice to a desire to engage an outstanding woman in a relationship fraught with sensuosity. The woman for whom I will cultivate my robust zeal will be resplendent both in mental representation, countenance and a maturity level commensurate with my own. That's kind of penultimately it.

If you seek a higher level of sophistication so offered in a man like myself, a man among boys, a man who knows many different big words, a man who may quite possibly own a thesaurus, a man who knows good beef and cheese, a man who cannot say no to a good run-on sentence, send an email to the address that is above, the address at the top of the page, include a picture of yourself and tell me what drives your interests, makes you laugh, makes you cry, motivates your soul. Please no pictures of your soul.

No freaks.

Idiots respond:

"First of all: Uebersexual is a German word, and you made no comment about this word in your description. Then, if you like cheese, as one of the fine things in life, you should have made a better photo of yourself. This photo does not show a person, who likes fine things (not your shirt, not the calendar in the back, etc.)

Guess, you only know the Crottin, which means in French also the dirt from dogs on the steets, or the dirt from cows on the field.

Good luck to you, and try to improve your picture. A nice bottle of red wine, next to the cheese and you in the back would work better to find the right woman. I love cheese, I love red wine, as I learned a lot from my ex who is French. But I also like other fine, really fine things in life!
Lonelyheart"

Humbert Humbert had the Right Idea!

Here's to you Mrs. Robinson! (permalink)

Humbert Humbert had the right idea – finding a younger woman for some fun, casual times! Hopefully I won't become nearly as obsessed if you run off with another guy!

Me? I’m a white man in my mid-30s who appreciates exclamation points as well as all that a younger woman has to offer – nice firm buttocks, perky boobs, etc.! I’m seeking a young coquettish white female 25+ for exciting and satisfying times! Please don't be too young as I don't want to marry your mother to get close to you!

Interested in hearing more? Drop me a line!
(photos a plus!!!)

Thanks!!!!


He gets letters:

"Just a brief line to congratulate you on your highly amusing posts. I have enjoyed reading them over the last couple of weeks. Please keep it up. You have an excellent sense of humor. I hope you find your Lolita."

Nicholas Cage looking for his Angelina Jolie...

"First-time" poster with delusions of grandeur seeks non-sketchy, non-boring girl (permalink). Thanks to Leslie for the beltway reference.

...or Lisa Marie Presley or Kristina Fulton or Alice Kim or Penelope Cruz or Patricia Arquette (or Lindsay Lohan, not because she's been rumored to be with Nick Cage, but because fire-crotch is hot-hot-hot).

Ha ha, I have never done this, ever, lol, never ever, lol, but definitely a first.

You know those days where you just want to sit around your apartment naked, eat potato chips and masturbate while you think about you sex life?

My sex life? My sex life looks kind of like the beltway at rush hour in the rain--miserable, with too many people you want nothing to do with, and nobody's getting anywhere any time soon.

I would like to meet a smart, snarky, glasses girl with a nice figure and a can-do attitude. Sketchy or boring girls need not apply. Excessively hairy girls need not apply. Married girls need not apply. AARP members need not apply. Girls who might try to get a restraining order on me because after 5 dates I ended things and didn't want to "work things out" because I didn't think we had "something too special to just throw away" need not apply.

Anyway, drop me a line :) I’d like to talk.

Oh yeah, I am WHITE!, 6'1, brown hair,brown eyes, and a squishy 166. Think marshmallow on stilts.

I'm bored. Will you be my friend?

Do women find desperation sexy? (permalink 1, 2, 3)

I'm just sitting here writing a craigslist ad. It's a rather short craigslist ad. I'm bored. And white. And 6' tall. Oh well. Perhaps I'll practice my killer dance moves while I await your reply.

Bad Poetry Thursday II: Man Boobs

Bad Poety Thursday II...apropos of nothing...

Man Boobs
Meaty pillows of hairy flesh
Lapping delicately with each thrust
Upon your clavicle
Like gentle tropical waves
On the beach of a desert isle

Bad Poetry Thursday: Ode to the Woman of My Dreams

Bad Poety Thursday ... apropos of nothing ...

You can see right through me
Like clear Lucite or acrylic
My body trembles like a badly tuned
Diesel Engine.

My heart races when our eyes meet
Pitter pat, Pitter pat, Pitter pat
A metronome set at 180
Beats per minute.

I grab your waist and thrust
My tongue down your throat
And swirl it around as I would
A Q-Tip in my ear canal
Always careful not to create
Wax blockage or perforate
My eardrum.

Oh woman of my dreams
When you are able to come up for air
Your gaze meets mine
Surprise marks your visage
A deer caught in headlights

You draw a deep breath
At the top of your lungs
Melodious and sweet
Like a chorus of angels on high
You shout, “Help! Police!”

He gets letters:

"You know, I'm going to be really sad when you actually find someone on here, I always look forward to the latest Mr. Banana Hammock postings. Who will mock Omari when you're gone? Who will amuse the masses with artfully Photoshopped photos?"

"Crotchmosphere" by Mr. Banana Hammock (not Omari)

Deep thoughts by Omari.

One of my favorite actresses is Robin Tunney. Whether she is Sarah Bailey in “The Craft,” another Sarah in “Julian Po,” Annie Garrett in “Vertical Limit,” or doing a hot sex scene with Lou Diamond Phillips in “Supernova” it doesn’t seem to matter. I suspect it is the freckles that get me. Those ephelis spots of wonder just give me the warm fuzzies in my nether-regions.

The word freckle comes from the Middle English freken, which, in turn, came from the Old Norse freknur. Freknur means "freckled." I figure these fair-skinned speakers of Old English and Old Norse must have had a tendency to developing freckles hence refer to themselves a freckled.

True freckles pose no health risk at all. They are all absolutely harmless. Some unfreckled people actually want to have them. For instance, in the non-fiction bestseller, Freckle Juice, by Judy Blume, Andrew buys a recipe to grow freckles like his friend Nicky so that his mom won’t know whether or not his neck is dirty. Needless to say the results are disastrous!

What amazes me about Freckle Juice, truly amazes me about Freckle Juice, is that Andrew's allowance is just ten cents a week. Ten cents a week? What’s that going to get you? A handful of Bazooka Joe’s? Geesh. Cheap parents. Though that is probably not the lesson we’re supposed to derive from Andrew’s story. I think it is probably that we should learn to love ourselves for who we are and not what we are not.

So in that spirit, I guess I should love myself for what I am not: I am not up on fashion. I was having a conversation with a female friend the other day about needing to buy new pants for work. My office is business casual, so I probably only need to get a few pairs of Dockers. My old Dockers are becoming a bit frayed. She says, “Don’t get pleats. Pleats are out.” And my response is something like, “But I like pleats. And I have a body-type that can wear pleated pants: generally slim, high-waisted, and tall. I am definitely not short and stumpy.”

The she say’s again, “NO PLEATS” and the only thing I can think of is that the flat front pants are going to be crotchally restrictive when I sit down. There will be no billowing of the fabric around the crotchal area. I won’t look as well endowed as I did before. Without pleats there will be no crotchmosphere.

What do you prefer on your men: crotchmosphere or no crotchmosphere? I have to go pants shopping this weekend. And maybe, just maybe, you'll also want to fantasize about what is crotchmosphere and what is actual crotch. Email me and let's chat about it...

He gets letters:

"I have to say, you made me laugh! That was the most random yet well-organized and somewhat informative post I've seen in a while. Nice work! Can't say I care to find out about your crotchmosphere but good luck finding someone who does. Just wanted to complement you on your writing style."

Upfront about “it”

I'm a smert Republican looking for a nice girl to have romantic sex. Oh yes, please also have a "collage" degree... (permalink).

I’m 37 and a straight WM looking for a 25 to 35 white woman, fun partner extraordinaire. A collage degree required. A decoupage degree preferred. Bonus if you can macramé me a pair of pants. I like to do movies, museums, concerts, and binge drink on weekends. Smokers welcome. My body is NOT a temple. It’s more like a Motel 6.

I like to have romantic sex, I like to fuck, I like to have quickies behind dumpsters in alleys or in Rock Creek Park, but only with liberated disease-free gals. I certainly don’t hop around, but if you ask I might. Are we roll-playing? My safe word will be “OUCH!” No bend-over-boyfriend for me though. I’m a MAN! Not a Catholic choirboy or a “fag” or lesbian or a woman or a Republican.

I’m just a strong liberal and upfront. If this offends you so sorry. I also love the environment, camping, bleeding heart causes, rights for all (including “fags”), the French and I love to travel, I’m looking for a smart, nice gal with a wild side that I can get to know and have some fun with. I travel a lot every week for work purposes (I work in Falls Church) and live in DC.

So if you want to hang with a crazy bleeding heart liberal, give me a ring.

Also I think about working out at DC gym three times a week and frequently imagine myself in good shape. 6’1, brown hair and eyes.

He gets letters from the clueless:

"Was that photoshop a joke? I really hope it was."

East coast girls are bitches

Bow. Wow. Bitches. (permalink).

They growl at other bitches. They’re always begging for “treats.” They smell my crotch and hump my legs…um, I forgot what I was complaining about.

If you want to play/learn COMPETITIVE CHUNKIN’, write to me!

Hmmm. It didn't work the first 754 times I posted this. I'm sure to get a response this time. Anyone for tennis? (permalink).

Hello,

I am a 37 y/o SWPM from D.C, I am 6’1”, I have dark brown hair and brown eyes.

I would like to meet a woman who is interested in trebuchet design and competitive punkin’ chunkin’ or fruitcake chunkin’ or would like to learn this or other siege machines.

I am rated class A-4 Bravo and have been chunkin’ punkin’s for over 10 years (and chunkin’ fruitcakes for about 3).

I usually do my punkin’ chunkin’ around the Adams Morgan area. My trebuchet is quite large (!!!!) and difficult to move around a lot.

I am also open to playing Dungeons and Dragons. I am Galderon, a wicked sweet 3rd level dwarf with pale skin and therefore an outcast to my dwarven clan. I have 20 strength and can perform killer backstabs.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

No freaks.

Let's rub soap on each other. In a shower. And then get sexy.

I would like to rub my soapy man boobs all over your body while we take a shower together. What's your name? (permalink).

We meet. We get all hot and sweaty making exercise of your choosing. Hopefully the exercise you choose is replete with sensuosity. We peel it all off unless we’ve already peeled it off for sensuous exercise, whatever that may be. Hopefully if not sensuous exercise, it is not wind sprints. I smoke and I don’t want to have cardiac arrest before we get all slippery on each other in the shower. Then we can lather each other and get slippery on each other, and get all clean. I promise I won’t accidentally slip it in your butt if you accidentally drop the slippery soap. I’m too tall for that to happen. I will, however, leave hair on your soap.

me: 6’1” 166 like soap, sexy exercise, slippery shower fun
you: skinny, young, small boobs.

flagged and removed by the craigslist community.

A totally ripped physique that can induce labor

Slow day = Mark Leyner inspired post.

I'm at the office so I'm wearing my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. My chunky gold bracelet keeps clanging on the keyboard as I type. Just back from the gym so my body glistens, my muscles are pumped and totally cut. Abs, delts, biceps, triceps. I flex for the ladies in the cubicles as I make my way back to the office to type this missive.

Last night, I walk into Tryst. I flex for the ladies and grab an ISS Effervescent Creatine Orange and Hybolin Decanoate Smoothie, settle into a nice overstuffed sofa, my head bobbing in rhythm to music that only I can hear. I glance to my left. I glance to my right. I’m scanning the joint for ladies that can handle this juggernaut of ecstasy. Spotted in the corner. One special one, I give her my bicep flex swivel-wrist point and wink. I can tell she needs the kind of hot man on woman sensuality that only I can provide.

She’s a hot blonde in a sheer white top and short black skirt. I give my smoky, smoldering, bedroom eyes. I give her my hot, snarly lip curl. I give her my Front Double Biceps and Back Lat Spread combo and then run through my posedown routine. A pregnant woman starts to go into labor but all of my focus is on the hot blonde. I notice the hot blonde is noticing me. She’s taking it all in -- muscle mass, density, ripped definition, intensity, dignity and flair. She’s blushing. I know what she wants to ask me but she is shy. I approach and tell her that I’d be more than happy to let her do a charcoal rubbing of my abs to remember me by. She has no charcoal. No paper. I tell her that she should probably carry a charcoal pencil and paper with her in the future. Who knows when she might run into me on my morning commute.

After she gratefully takes her memento, I head for the Safeway on the way to my Adams Morgan compound to get something for dinner. I pick up a crudités platter, panda tenderloin, and Ranch Salad kit. I’ll be up late practicing my bedroom eyes.

Looking good. Human growth hormones. Eating exotic animals. A totally ripped physique that can induce labor. That is what I am about. And if you’re tired of those limp noodles posting on craigslist who are all bullshit and no action, you know where to find me. Your pic gets mine.

Where are you kickball goddess?

On the prowl for skills and fittness, whatever that is...(permalink).

I am looking for a cute/sexy late 20s – mid 30s kickball girl, preferably Adams Morgan league; meaning I'm lazy AND being the Adams Morgan league I'm looking for someone who knows it’s not about skills, but about the drinking of the beer after the game. I know you are out there somewhere, but where? Good leg-eye coordination required. Nice kickball physique and muscular kickball legs a plus.

No elephants.

My 300th Washington, DC Craigslist M4W Ad!

My 300th Washington, DC Craigslist M4W Ad!

It’s true. This is my 300th Washington, DC Craigslist M4W ad. Astounding, no? I’ve been thinking very long and hard about what to write in this ad. The sexy Italian/Fitness/Coach/Model? I’ve done him before. The 8” cock with a trust fund? Too easy. Commentary or Personal add, you choose. Vol III - 35? I did him yesterday. And he’s long. And boring. And it’s “ad” not “add” buddy. Hopefully I won’t be boring.

I began to think of all of the Craigslist dates that I’ve been out on over the last year. Some were good. Some were not so good. Some were one or two dates. Some were short relationships. Some were short relationships that ended up in family court. And no dear, you cannot get a restraining order because I dumped you and didn’t want to work things out. I’ve made some great friends (and apparently one enemy).

One these friends said I should shout out a happy Tisha B’Av to all of the wonderful jewlicious ladies of Craigslist. She claims it’s a holiday where the ladies wear white, sans brassiere and panties, and jump into a pool. I thought, “What a wonderful religion…Men get to watch right? I’m converting.” That was until another these friend said that the holiday commemorates all the horrible things that have happened to the Jews over the years...starting with the destruction of the Temple. And you have to fast. So I’m just going to keep on worshipping television.

So I am thinking, maybe for this ad I’ll write a real ad about myself. One-time only though. Ok, hmmm, fiction is sooo much easier than the truth……...

I’m 37, look a bit younger than that, act much younger than that. I like all sorts of music. I read a lot. I like to be outside when the weather isn’t oppressively hot. I used to be good about exercise but my new job has left me a little too busy to find time to go to the gym. I’m a Gemini, if that matters. I’m a little of 6’ (which I think matters to the CL females). I’m a soft 166lbs. I have a grad degree in art history. I used to do economic policy work, now I am running the marketing shop of a local firm. I’m fraught with ambivalence on a variety of topics, including where to eat, what to eat, and what movie to see, etc. I still have my hair. My sister has married 3 different guys named Jason (no kidding). I’m a bit of a homebody. I’m more of a dress-down person, but I can dress up when need to be. I’ve been house broken by a couple of females already so there won’t be much training involved. I’m not quick to anger. I am also kind of picky about weird stuff. I really don’t have a type of woman I’m attracted to, but if forced to come up with a type I’d probably say short, shortish hair, thin to regular, unconventional beauties. I guess I do sound kind of boring. Oh well…

Here’s a picture of me all dressed up. The arms of my shirt aren’t ripped off to accommodate my rippling biceps, but don’t I look like quite the businessman?

Mr. BH

"Anybody want to get some ICE CREAM?" ?????

I scream, you scream (permalink), we all scream (permalink) for ICE CREAM!!!


Is that what the kids are calling it these days? If so, I too would like to get some "ice cream." "Two scoops." "Cup," not "cone."

Mary Kay Letourneau had the Right Idea!

This guy, who had deleted his post before I could nab it for the permalink page, posts this ridiculous post looking for a cougar I guess under the title "Mrs. Robinson had the Right Idea!" Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. But Mary Kay pretty much had the same idea as Mrs. Robinson, more or less. Maybe I should have gone with my initial thought, "Humbert Humbert had the Right Idea!" Oh well, too late now....(in case you're wondering, the other two in the photo are friends Vincet and Violet, from Taiwan, at the Belle and Sebastian concert)....


Mary Kay Letourneau had the right idea - finding a younger guy for some fun, casual times!

Me? I am not keen about spending any time in prison and I’m also not interested in finding a younger guy, so be a woman and be of legal age, m’kay? I’m a lecherous white guy in my mid-30s who appreciates all that a younger woman has to offer, like nice tight body, firm boobies, etc. I’m seeking a white female at our around my level of maturity, 18+, for exciting and satisfying times!

Interested in hearing more? Drop me a line! (photos a plus)

Thanks.

He gets letters:

"Hi how are you.... you seem down to earth... send me a message sometime.... "

"There are no women at your maturity level."

If you can handle my hyper-erotic display of manliness. Vol. Whatever

Exceedingly long post. And boring. I figured I could do one at least as long. But more interesting. Channeling Mark Leyner...

Ok, it’s Wednesday. I have an important meeting today. No Carla Behrle leather pants. No “no shirt.” I put on my grey flannel suit. Blue shirt. The arms are ripped off of both to accommodate my rippling biceps. The shirt stretched taut against my ballooning pecs. My nipples still hard from the cold shower I took this morning. To accent the outfit I throw on a Zadi tie from Milan. Blue with little yellow fish. Armani glasses with blue tinted frames to better stalk my prey. I wait for the 42 bus outside my Adams Morgan compound. The 42 will take me to Farragut Square, Orange Line to Dunn Loring where I run a multi-national corporation.

The 42 bus is a fine way to make my morning commute. It arrives. I board. Cracking my neck, I give the ladies a smoky stare with one eyebrow raised, oozing raw sexuality. I launch into a series of poses: Front Double Biceps, Front Lat Spread, Side Chest, Back Double Biceps, and signature Back Lat Spread. One woman faints. Another lunges at my banana hammock, her eyes wild and fixated at the bulge below my waist. I brush her aside. I don’t countenance inappropriate public behavior on the 42 bus. Maybe they behave that way out toward East Falls Church, but not in tony Adams Morgan.

Waiting on the Farragut Square platform. Orange line to Dunn Loring. The train arrives. I get on and dive into this weeks “New Yorker” magazine, my head bouncing in rhythm to music only I can hear. Until, of course, a lovely comes up to me, impressed with my posing and impressed with my muscle mass, ripped definition, intensity, endurance, mental focus, dignity, flair, and humility. She wants me to autograph her breasts with my Mr. Sharpie. Luckily, I have it on me today and am happy to oblige.

I figure I might as well give the lovelies of the Orange line their own taste of my powerful manliness. Why save it for the lovelies of the 42? There is enough of me to go around. A brown-haired beauty with dark, smoldering eyes cooed as I went through my routine for her. This time I finish it off with a bicep flex, point and wink. Not used my superior display of masculine prowess, she drops like a stone. I revive her with a whiff of my pheromones and she stumbles off at Court House, probably still fantasizing about me and my raw and powerful version of man on woman sensuality. I hope she knew where she was going.

Me? I know where I am going. I’m on my way to the multinational corporation that I run. Largely I think my employment is the result of their interest in exploiting my image and style, although I don’t think that I am fairly compensated. I figure instead of weights this morning I will hone my craft: the ancient and deadly art of Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate. I put on my yellow bustier and with leopard print hipsters like Sushmita Sen wore in Tumko Naa Bhool Payenge and enter the Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate dojo. I practice Golden-cock-stands-on-one-leg-Dhandia and needle-at-sea-bottom-Araalam mudra followed with a HamsaPaksham mudra on the China Red Freestanding Wing Chun Dummy as I sing Dhakka Laga Bhukka:

Dhakka Laga Bhukka
Khayega Re Mukka
Ban Ja Re Ban Ja Mashal-E-Raah
O Yuva Yuva... O Yuva
Hum Albely Bade Manchaley
Dhum Jo Lagi To Chale Hum Chale
Chahee Phir Kaee
Yuhi Kisi Duniya Ki Kaamo Mein
Haath Milaye Na
Sang Chale Na

I have no idea what the words mean, but my rendition is as exquisite as it is frightening

Me you ask? Taking advantage of all forms of public transportations, electric and natural gas powered. Superior posing. Potent pheromones. Martial arts. Not bitching about my roommate “Kristen.” That is what I am about. And if you think you can handle my hyper-erotic display of masculine prowess, please look me up. Your pic gets mine.

He gets letters:

"Very entertaining :)"

Romantic, Cuddly Fella Seeks Heat Generation Opportunities

It feels like 105 with the heat index. Lets cuddle! I'm a big, fat, sweaty guy! And unlucky at love! (permalink).

I'm a 37 year old professional living and working in the DC area. I admit that I have posted on CL before. I have also been on match.com, e-harmony, Yahoo! personals, True.com, American Singles, MyeMatch.com, DateCam.com, WebDat.com, Great Expectations, iMatchup.com, OverThirtySingles.com, PerfectMatch.com, Chemistry.com, Fitness-Singles.com, J-Date (though not Jewish), Salon.com, Nerve.com, Adult Friend Finder, the Furry Web-Ring, etc. I’ve even been to local sex addiction support groups to meet women, but still I haven't met anyone worth more than a couple dates. So here I am, looking for that special someone once again.

I have a lot to offer someone. I am romantic, I like to cuddle, AND my A/C is broken. So maybe you’d like to come over to my place, crawl under my big down comforter and just cuddle and cuddle and cuddle. Or maybe you’d prefer to “work out” instead, if you know what I mean. Do you? You do, right? I hope so.

I’ve got plenty of Gatorade®.