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09-06-12, 12:39 AM
boise craigslist > personals > casual encounters
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I'm not really interested in an actual relationship, even though I blather on about such useless, esoteric nonsense phrases as "I like walks on the beach" (um, this is Idaho; we're landlocked) or "I'm looking for that perfect woman." Hell, if I'm in a particularly jaunty mood I might say something like, "i had been in St. Luke Memorial Hospital-Racine preparing to be medicated for Staphylococcus Aureus (Staph Infection), i became fine after a time, wanna come around to my house next to Wainwright Court?" I'm such a romantic ...
Nope, I'm here to try to make a buck off you poor schlemiels by replying to your inquiries with a link to some weird web site that redirects three times before landing on some ridiculous thing like "Hot Christian Coprophiliacs Want to Meet YOU!!!" But in actuality, I make maybe two cents on the whole venture because I and thousands of others are doing the work for some Russian mobster at the top of the MLM pyramid so he can take walks on the beach in the Crimea with his retinue of AK-47 toting thugs and underage Ukrainian groupies. God, I love e-commerce.
So if you actually want to meet someone special, I'm afraid you're not going to find it here. You'll either find me or the guy who wants to send you a picture of a * that he claims is his. I'm afraid you're going to have endure another weekend of Jell-O shot enthusiasts and karaoke renditions of Def Leppard and the Steve Miller Band. My advice: ditch the Bud Light Lime and just have your bartender leave you a bottle of well vodka instead. Then have someone drive you home so you can have your soul-crushing intoxication and corresponding hangover with at least a little bit of honor.
Never mind the fact I mention that Boise State University has had a blue Astroturf field since 1986, or that Eagle Road is a total nightmare. I'm a spambot that just did his research on Wikipedia. Even so, e-mail me so I can send you that link. I only have 658 to go before I can get a king size Snickers at my neighborhood Jackson's.
P.S.: the picture below isn't me. It's a portrait of our patron saint, Hamburglar of Arimathea.
271389
(I'm almost certain the cat is ripping off Dennis Miller)
Thanks for flagging.
miscategorized
prohibited
spam/overpost
best of craigslist
Please report suspected exploitation of minors to the appropriate authorities
WARNING: This is yet another spam post - m4w (Does it really matter?)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date:
Reply to this post Reply to: _____________@pers.craigslist.org
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not really interested in an actual relationship, even though I blather on about such useless, esoteric nonsense phrases as "I like walks on the beach" (um, this is Idaho; we're landlocked) or "I'm looking for that perfect woman." Hell, if I'm in a particularly jaunty mood I might say something like, "i had been in St. Luke Memorial Hospital-Racine preparing to be medicated for Staphylococcus Aureus (Staph Infection), i became fine after a time, wanna come around to my house next to Wainwright Court?" I'm such a romantic ...
Nope, I'm here to try to make a buck off you poor schlemiels by replying to your inquiries with a link to some weird web site that redirects three times before landing on some ridiculous thing like "Hot Christian Coprophiliacs Want to Meet YOU!!!" But in actuality, I make maybe two cents on the whole venture because I and thousands of others are doing the work for some Russian mobster at the top of the MLM pyramid so he can take walks on the beach in the Crimea with his retinue of AK-47 toting thugs and underage Ukrainian groupies. God, I love e-commerce.
So if you actually want to meet someone special, I'm afraid you're not going to find it here. You'll either find me or the guy who wants to send you a picture of a * that he claims is his. I'm afraid you're going to have endure another weekend of Jell-O shot enthusiasts and karaoke renditions of Def Leppard and the Steve Miller Band. My advice: ditch the Bud Light Lime and just have your bartender leave you a bottle of well vodka instead. Then have someone drive you home so you can have your soul-crushing intoxication and corresponding hangover with at least a little bit of honor.
Never mind the fact I mention that Boise State University has had a blue Astroturf field since 1986, or that Eagle Road is a total nightmare. I'm a spambot that just did his research on Wikipedia. Even so, e-mail me so I can send you that link. I only have 658 to go before I can get a king size Snickers at my neighborhood Jackson's.
P.S.: the picture below isn't me. It's a portrait of our patron saint, Hamburglar of Arimathea.
271389
(I'm almost certain the cat is ripping off Dennis Miller)