Monday, December 04, 2006


I've been diligently reading serious articles with a view to writing a serious post about something really really serious (not joking), but suddenly happened upon the Personals at the London Review of Books. And now I can't think:
My most humbling moment was the birth of my first grandchild. No! Wait! It was when I won the office Grand National sweepstake in 1999. God bless you, Bobbyjo! Idiot gamer (M, 61). One eye on a meaningful relationship, the other on the William Hill Saturday quick-pick cards. Box no. 23/03

This advert began as a limp but over the following weeks it developed into this magnificent sprint. Woman, 36. Probably as good as you’ll ever get. Stop whingeing and kiss me. Box no. 23/04

Young, charming, thoughtful, attractive, sporty, zesty, intelligent. None of these are me, but if you’d like to spend an afternoon or more considering alternative adjectives to be applied to 53-year old cantankerous dipshit, write now to box no 2202

2 out of every 10 times I’m absolutely correct. Man, 35, (Islington). Non-smoker, academic, caring, solvent, passionate, articulate, full head of hair. Box no. 2203

Your Christmas bookings now taken! Pathetic man, 37. Box no. 2207
Oh, bless 'em. Aren't they cute? :)