There is something to be said for niche markets in terms of looking for lust and love.  The personal ads in the London Review of books are full of witty, self-deprecating and bold calls for kindred spirits.  A few choice entries:

Your buying me dinner doesn’t mean I’ll have sex with you. I probably will have sex with you though. Honesty not an issue with opportunistic male, 38. Box no. 1898

Poet, M, 32. My career demands that you break my heart. It also demands that you buy all the drinks and have lots of strange sex with me. I’ll give you an acknowledgement in my next volume, so it’s not an entirely unrewarding relationship. Box no. 1873 

Your place or your other place? Woman, 32, needful of the finer things in life seeks stinking-rich bloke, 80 to 100. Must be willing to fibrillate his ventricles when he becomes tiresome or bankrupt or both. Also interesting thirty-somethings for illicit and immoral affair to be conducted concurrently with the above. Box no. 1597

A selection of the most original and intriguing ads have been compiled into a book:  They Call Me Naughty Lola: Personal Ads from the London Review of Books

(F/lthy Gorgeous Th/ngs)

May 20, 2009, 6:57pm