Excerpted from the book "Professional Stool Sampler Looking For Place To
Sit:  A Collection of Personal Ads From Alternative Newspapers," by Skippy
Williams and Zohre Crumpton, (c) 1996, Simon and Schuster.

I am spitting kitty. Ftt Fttttttt.  I am angry bear.  Grrrrr.  I am large
watermelon seed stuck in your nose.  Zermmmmmmmmmm.  I am small biting
spider in your underwear.  Yub yub yub.  No mimes.

Bitter, unsuccessful middle aged loser wallowing in an unending sea of
inert, drooping loneliness looking for 24 year old needy leech-like
hanger-on to abuse with dull stories, tired sex and Herb Alpert albums.
Baby, you are my Tijuana Taxi.

Me -- trying to sleep on the bus station bench, pleading with you to give
me a cigarette;  you -- choking on my odor, tripping over your purse
trying to get away; at the last moment, our eyes meeting.  Yours were
blue.  Can I have a dollar?

I like popping blood blisters and whipping badgers in the forest.  I put
twelve feet in the attic and no, don't you get flimpy.  Boot lickum, zoom.
You spay and neuter?  Only five dollars and the police, blue and in your
pocket.  Bad boy!  No desert!  Is only swamp, and I breath underwater.

Imp and angel. Disembodied head in jar, 24, seeks pixie goddess to fiddle
with while Rome burns.  You bring marshmallows.  No.  I make joke.  You
like laugh?  I like comebacks and confessions.  Send photo of someone else.

Three toed mango peeler searching for wicked lesbian infielder.  Like
screaming and marking territory with urine?  Let's make banana enchiladas
together in my bathtub.  You bring the salsa.

Mongoloid spastic underwear model with extra limb (you guess where?) in
search of bottlenosed dolphin and extra prickly cactus juice.  Soup is
good food.

I like eating mayonnaise and peanut butter sandwiches in the rain,
watching Barney Miller reruns, peeing on birds in the park and licking
strangers on the subway; you eat beets raw, have climbed Kilimanjaro, and
sweat freely and often.  Must wear size five shoes.

Timber! Falling downward is the lumber of my love.  You grind your axe of
passion into my endangered headlands.  Don't make me into a bureau.  I
want to be lots and lots of toothpicks.

Small lumpy squid monkey seeks healthy woman with no identifying scars,
any age.  Must have all limbs.  Recommend appreciation of high-pitched,
screeching noises.  Must like being bored and lonely.  Must not touch the
squids, EVER.  No tongue.

Neurotic midget with collection of warning labels seeks someone whose
grave he can dance on after the Apocalypse.  May be able to get you off
hook.  Look me in the eye and snap a z.

There is a little place in the jumbled sock drawer of my heart where you
match up all the pairs, throw out the ones with holes in them, and buy me
some of those neat dressy ones with the weird black and red geometrical
designs on them.

Mmmm Pez!  Rabid Wonder Woman fan looking for someone in satin tights,
fighting for our rights and the old red, white 'n blue.  You look like
Linda Carter?  Big plus.  Know all words to theme song?  Marry me.

Sanctimonious mordacious raconteur seeking same for hijinks and hiballs.
SJM 27 wants to look someone in the eye so don't be tall.  Or, if you
can't help it, enjoy laying down.  Wanna swim upstream?  It's serious for
sure but I'm not.

Remember that summer you spent with your parents in Hawaii and how mad
you were that they made you go?  And how you were hopelessly bored until
you saw the most gorgeous man you'd ever encountered strolling down the
beach looking at you, skillfully removing your skimpy bikini with his
piercing eyes?  And how you spent the last month imagining him taking you
in every possible way, masturbating feverishly day and night, wishing he
would reappear, but he never did because you were 15 and he would have
gone to jail?  That was me, and you just turned 18.

Angry, simple-minded, balding, partially blind ex-circus flipper boy with
a passion for covering lovers in sour cream and gravy seeks exotic,
heavily tattooed piercing fanatic, preferably hairy and stinky, either
sex, for whippings, bizarre sex and fashion consulting.  No freaks.