WHEN PERSONAL ADS BECOME POETRY

I read a collection of personal ads in Sunday's LA Times Magazine that I assumed was the brainchild of a creative genius.

On second read, I realized that the ads were real personals pulled from various sources spanning several years. (I confirmed that a few were from Craigslist.)

Here are some of the more delicious ones:

• Liberal man seeks a conservative (neocon or better) woman for discreet affair. You blast Sean Hannity while dominating me in the back of my Prius. Weekdays only.



• Young man, moderate circumstances, with glass eye, would like to make acquaintance of young girl, also with glass eye or other deformity not more severe, for matrimony.



• Portly screen legend, reclusive, with unabashed Japanese fetish wishes to turn over new leaf and find a nice Chinese girl to spend remaining days with.



• My name is Bubbles. I reside in a shed with 28 kitties. I refurbish grocery carts, which I steal from the local Wal-Mart. Just kidding. I'm Tom. I'm looking for local female for coffee and maybe more.



• Broken guy with only a guitar and a Dodge Dart, looking for barely legal runaway who won't judge him for being an abject failure.



• SWM cultural imperialist foodie seeks goofy hipster chick to drive to San Gabriel so we can brag about being the only white people at a filthy C-grade restaurant.



• Stoner seeks same.

Too bad that I'm not a nice Chinese girl who could've helped Marlon Brando overcome his Japanese fetish.

--Junichi