Normally the Only Hot Cops I Like Are the Ones GOB Knows

[photo via Robb1e]

Our neighbors were burgled yesterday, which seriously, seriously sucks for them. They seem like nice dudes. But then: you and your partner came to interview my roommate and me regarding the burglary. When I told you my last name, you told me there was an ultimate fighter with the same last name. "You related? I thought maybe you could get me an autograph." Sadly, I'm not, and I can't. My roommate thought you were flirting. I couldn't tell, because I was too distracted by your dimples.

If I can get over my inherent distrust of authority, we should hang out sometime under better circumstances. Bring the cuffs.

Update 12/16: I only got two responses to this post. One was short and boring, and the other was the following, which is at least entertaining, if nothing else.

Hey hun.. you . I think my friend is the guy who was the cop who interviewed you. Because my friend told me that he interviewed to cute girls that lived next to some guy who got robbed. But i dont know what the chances are that you are the girl because i never look at this part of craigslist.. and i tried it 2day and found this and i thought that was funny and weird if ur that girl lol

Dude with Derelicte Shoes

I just assumed you were gay, since I assume every cute dude I meet is gay until proven otherwise (I find it saves time). Plus, you were selling stuff at a craft fair, so...signs were not pointing in a straight direction.

But maybe you weren't? And you actually really thought my shoes were rad in the way that straight dudes can totally find girls' shoes rad? Your own shoes were apparently, if you are to be believed, stolen from a homeless dude. Which is rad also.

In any event, you were cute and I would totally shill for your wares anytime.

Christmas Porn

[photo via AmandaB3]

You: cute improv boys perusing our "free" shelves at the tail end of our stoop sale.
Me: tired lady hawking books and DVDs, including "The Bitch That Stole Christmas" with hot elf action.

You seemed cool. You wished me a Merry Christmas as you left, while I was trying to hide the porn from the children that walked up. I hope you enjoy your items - you really should have taken MILF Handlers with you, though.

I posted this last night, like, 10 minutes after the described encounter. So far, three responses:

The Opportunistic Perv:
Gee, I missed your yard sale. : (
Is "The Bitch . . . " DVD still available? It sounds like a good addition to my eclectic collection.





The Dim Romantic:
im watching sun night football (well - watched, game just ended) and poking around.your post is absolutely hilarious. im wondering if any normal people post ads on craigs list. whatever normal means. probably just not creepy?im 27, originally from bklyn. im not creepy. and im smart, cool, fun, good looking, etc. just seeing who's out there..




The Realistic:
Your posting made me laugh, thinking of you trying to hide the porn from the kids. Thank you for that.


All I ever want is to make people laugh, y'all.

To our one reader left...I'm back in the swing of things!

Crunch- 8 pm - The return of the missed connection and Ponytail 2.0 (minus the ponytail) - w4m - 26

you: dark brown hair, dark eyes, navy shorts, white shirt, black sneaks & socks, unbelievably gorgeous
me: red head, tan top, black pants, serious staring problem

Ok so I'll admit I've seen you at the gym before....and I have definitely noticed you. But tonight - I was seriously staring you down! I was checking you out when I was on the elliptical and found it hard to concentrate. I think you sensed me watching and you went upstairs. I don't blame you - I might be creeped out too. but I have to tell you - I am NOT creepy I promise! You are just so cute. I saw you again as you were leaving. I was working out with a trainer and ran to get some water. I almost bumped into you and we made eye contact. We held it a little longer than "normal," so I'm thinking you might think I'm cute too. Or you were noting my facial details to fill out a restraining order. Either way, I just wanted to let you know that you were the best part of my workout.

Non-Speed Dater at the Black Rabbit

You: charming-looking bespectacled fellow at the corner of the bar
Me: brunette saddled with an awkward internet date

I put our empties on the corner of the bar where you were sitting and bumped into you. Oh, how I wish I had been there alone so I could have talked to you! I was frantically trying to envision a way to get my card out of my wallet and slip it into your coat pocket without the strange man with whom I was on a date noticing. But before I could figure it out, you were gone. Let's go there and not be awkward.

Taking It to the Next Level

Nice.

MKE to EWR to Penn Station

They brought us a "snack box" with a packet of sausage, which seemed oddly appropriate, since I was the only woman passenger on the very light flight from Milwaukee to Newark. I was the girl in the green beret, gripping the arm of my chair in fear during takeoff; you were the fellow one row back in cute glasses and an earflap hat. Then I saw you on the train to Penn Station. I resolved to say something if you'd followed me onto the subway, but alas, that was where our paths diverged. If you're a fellow Midwestern transplant, hit me back and we can go to a bar where they serve Spotted Cow.

I am stressed about school and can not sleep... posting a missed connection it is!

Home for the Holiday - w4m - 26 (N train)

On the N shuttle train tonight around 10:30pm headed towards Ditmars

You: cute and tall, with blue backpack and blue eyes
Me: stressed-out gal with glasses and a black and white coat

Looked like you were coming back from a Thanksgiving trip, with left-overs in hand. Caught my eye a few times. Want to tell me about your family's wacky Thanksgiving hijinks??

A Word of Thanks

Ah, Thanksgiving. A day to think about all the blessings in your life. Family and friends gathering, eating too much food, drinking too much drink, enjoying each others' company, etc., etc., etc. Of course, let's try not to think about the origins of the holiday, or how Uncle Leon is a raging alcoholic, or how cooking the stuffing inside the turkey as opposed to in its own pan may cause possible bacterial infection. Let's just focus on the positives: mashed potatoes, champagne, and good times.

But somewhere in Manhattan, someone's Thanksgiving is not so happy. Somewhere a man sits in front of his computer, wondering to himself "Why? Why can't I find a woman who shares both my religious views and my enjoyment of hairy ladies?" He stares at his screen, takes a sip of his Mountain Thunder, and scratches his head. "Tell me, Beowulf," he says plaintively, addressing his prized pet iguana, "Tell me what to do!"

The iguana stares at him, as iguanas are wont to do. In the stare, the man seems to see an answer. "Of course! That same girl! The one I've written to over and over, sometimes using the same text, who has never given me any reason to believe that she is interested in meeting, ever! I'll write to her once more. But this time - this time, Beowulf, I will write an email of such eloquence, such insight, that she will be forced to respond in the affirmative."

And so he types:

So is your armpit hair rather long yet?

Simple. To the point. Rife with meaning. Let's all say a word of thanks that on Thursday, at 6:23pm, The Naturalizer decided to strike again.

Seriously, It Won't End.

The time: Saturday, November 8, 8:10pm.

The place: The Naturalizer's apartment.

The Naturalizer sits alone, staring at his collection of Hummel figurines and crucifixes. As Teen Wolf plays on his 13" television set, unwatched, he sits back, takes a gulp of his store brand Dr. Pepper clone (Dr. Bold, perhaps) and toys with the fork left neglected in his Hungry Man salisbury steak dinner. He speaks:

"What am I doing? It's 8pm on a Saturday, and I would like nothing more than to be out on the town with a hairy, Jesus-loving lady. I thought I'd found one, but she spurned me - electronically!"

He hangs his head so that the bells on the jester hat he is wearing jingle in a pathetic manner.* His pet iguana stares vacantly at him, partly because it is an iguana, and partly because it is confused as to why he is wearing a jester hat. Suddenly, he jerks upward.

"I have the perfect solution! I will contact her once more! I still have her email address! Maybe, just maybe, if I say the perfect thing, she will come running back to me and we will live happily together in a land with no razors!"

He sits down at his computer, ready to burst with excitement. As he logs in to his email, his leg twitches in that way that dudes' legs sometimes twitch when they are nervous or just bored and you have to be like "DUDE. Your LEG." and they are like "OH. Shit." because they totally didn't know their leg was doing that. Thankfully for The Naturalizer, his only witness is the iguana, who doesn't care, as it is distracted by a particularly leafy piece of lettuce.

"But what will I type to this unseen, hirsute maiden? Surely nothing that springs from this mortal brain is divine enough to ply her to return - electronically - to my virtual arms. Oh, what to do?"

He sits, stymied, gazing at the framed 8x10 photograph of Rush Limbaugh gracing his wall, as though pleading with the man to send him guidance. Suddenly - an idea strikes.

"That's it!"

With that, he presses send. What follows is the email he sent:

How are you? I have decided to give you one last opportunity. Perhaps, you have had time to think about your rude behavior in not responding to my emails. Besides, I can think of two good reasons-- 1. Its not easy to find a girl who does not shave and a guy who is appreciative of that.. and 2. we may share similar religious beliefs... And in ny that is not easy to find. How about it?

In case you're wondering: Yes. This is exactly the same as the last two emails he sent.

But this time I responded.

Let's see what happens.

--UPDATE--
I responded "Hahahahaha" to his email at 9:04am, then started writing this. By the time I was done at 9:28, he had responded: "So why not? What do you have to lose?"
HOW DESPERATE ARE YOU DUDE





*credit where credit is due: my 10th grade English teacher Mrs. Hunter (who was quite possibly the most awesome teacher ever, and had many a quotable moment), used this phrase in regards to the wonderful short story The Cask of Amontillado. I still love that story.