It's okay. There's no reason top be scared. Okay I'm lying, it's online dating. Be very, very scared.
See I'm friendly with guys. 
Is their an operation in your future?
Now most people lie on there bed, but hey the floor is good too.
You're looking for a long, meaningful relationship right?
I think you forgot something.
Always best to put your best asset first.
A friendly face is always someone I want to date.
No sleeping while looking for a date.
Come join me in the bath tub of love.
Can you find her in the picture?
That's one sexy eye let me tell you.
Okay I really had to look here since every picture had her dressed as a guy even though she wants to meet a guy. Note if you want to meet a guy don't dress like one.
Must be cold where she is either that or she's on America's Most Wanted.
I never get these. If you're not going to put a picture of yourself up don't even bother. This shit just pisses us guys off.
I know where my mind is going with this picture, but I'll let you decide.
Yes finally a grading system for dating. It's worth the extra fee.
I'm a chiropractor and I can help you with that problem.
Miss Congeniality
At least she knows what her problems are.
I like puppies, happy people, long walks on the beach, and helping the less fortunate.
That's right. In your underwear in the bathroom. REAL sexy.
Yes I will be wearing this when I meet you.
Yes a woman of mystery is so sexy until you meet her and find out she's been horribly disfigured.
No offense but I'm scarred. Like please don't eat my soul scarred.
Thank you for explaining that this isn't your boyfriend that makes a world of difference.
I guess she didn't get the memo that black face went out a long time ago.
Really? You're having trouble finding guys? 
Always a classy picture that indicates you cherish talking over sex.
I guess this is one way to let them know something is different about you.
I hope you don't mind that I dry hump guys for money.
Now that's a different way to do the black box.LOCATION: New York
I am a single, free-spirted, web-savvy thirtysomething female. Living in the gorgeous Caroll Gardens for the past year, I love life and am only looking for a man who is not an idiotic pig-headed beer-swilling moron (which seems to be hard to find in this city). This is my final plea to the Craigslist community. I own my own internet business which means I don't get to leave the house much, but I do know the internet and its dating potential. So far it has let me down every single time. I've done MySpace, Facebook, Match.Com, eHarmony, and even Jdate (I'm not Jewish and don't care about Israel). Don't get me started on Jdate. But with so many people out there, at least ONE guy can match this. I know he's out there. My standards are exacting, but they're not too much to ask. Life is too short to compromise yourself! Here is what I am looking for. It's not much. If you're this guy or know this guy, have him contact me right away.
-non smoker
-must love cats and be open to the idea of future adoptions
-must not be more than one to five stops away from Carroll Gardens F train in either direction
-must not be opposed to wicker furniture
-must be 420 friendly
-must clean up hair from the tub after a trim, a ring of hair around the edge is GROSS
-past bar tending/table-serving experience a plus but not necessary
-some knowledge of vintage wine
-must be fluent in 2 languages (English DOES NOT count); I still like to practice my French from study abroad
-toilet paper must go over, NEVER under, when placed in dispenser
-PUT the lid DOWN. Animals have better manners than most men
-no stockbrokers, unemployed musicians, actors, or baristas
-no ravers, goths, punks, or rude boys
-musical taste must include, but not be limited to, Kingston Trip, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Judy Collins
-name must not begin with an R, a J, or a B (Js are negotiable; Rs are not. Bs should consider that if they treat a cat nicely, it will respond accordingly; but if you scare it by approaching too fast, of course it will attack)
-must like scented candles (not vanilla); no incense
-must be willing to pay for dinner at least once a week at a Zagat-rated restaurant after proper research and scouting of restaurant
-must own more than 3 items from ?The North Face? jacket line but no more than 5
-owning a car is a plus, but it can't be a hatchback (some standards)
-I ski one weekend a year, so you ski. No shredders.
-must love Gary Larson, and hate Dilbert
-passionate about animal rights, but willing to take in the circus when it comes to town
-must read at least 3 books a month, no comics unless Gary Larson
-must have read complete works of Jane Austen
-must know how to turn a Word document into a PDF
-must be on T-Mobile for Fave 5 access
-must love pinball and not play ping pong
-3 out of your 5 favorite movies should be John Hughes films
-must agree to watch "The Hills" on MTV on Sundays but hate that bitch Heidi, she is everything wrong with womankind
-must know CPR and have current certification, ++ for SCUBA certification
-must be home from 2-6pm on Saturdays to receive packages; bonus points if you're an Ebay power seller too!
-NO FELONS!!!
-must have all limbs, no quads (not biased, just poor past experience)
-Ivy League education desirable, but Amherst, UPenn, Colgate, Vassar, Georgetown etc. acceptable
-must have Scrabulous installed on Facebook during work hours
-must prefer dark chocolate over milk; no omnivores
-must like North-Eastern microbrews, NO COLORADO, NO EXCEPTIONS
-no corduroy pants, jackets, shirts, socks, caps, etc. And while we're on the subject of hats, no hats at all. Having a hat as part of your job costume is not an excuse.
I know the guy for me is out there. I've come so close to finding him in perfect form so many times. If you are this know or know this guy, PLEASE contact me. I am willing to make a few sacrifices, but not many. If you see yourself in even a FEW of my specifications, you are invited to apply. Think of it more like a guidebook to my heart. Please reply with a little bit about yourself, include pics.
~M
LOCATION: Washington DC
I know that all your ex-girlfriends are 'psychos.' I've heard all about them since hardly a day goes by that you don't make some eye-rolling reference to 'that crazy bitch' who practically ruined your life and then went off and married some successful 'douchebag' leaving you to troll local college bars in search of no-strings-attached ass while she enjoys quiet weekends at home with her new in-laws in Connecticut. That selfish, cunt.
I know that you don't think I could ever be as good of a 'psycho ex' as she was. But, I assure you. I can. I'll be such a raving lunatic nutcase - you won't even remember her when I'm through with you. Try me.
For starters - I am great in bed. Isn't that how all the 'crazy' ones start out? You'll meet me at some party through some friend of a friend of a friend who knows I have 'whacko' potential but will fail to mention this to the chain of people through whom we are introduced because...quite frankly, our friends don't really care enough about either of us to keep our best interests in mind. Alternatively, they *do* have our best interests in mind but know that our dramatic personalities and overwhelming egos are forces too powerful for even the most friendly, logical advice. Thus, they abort all attempts to keep us apart and allow us to get drunk and grope each other publicly, shaking their heads all the while because..this shit is gonna' blow up big time.
Meantime, we'll already be upstairs, half undressed where you'll be too drunk to censor yourself so you'll make overly generous blubbering commentary about how 'sexy' I am (as I knock into a table lamp with swanlike grace). You'll also rave on and on about how I have the greatest tits you've ever seen and am 'fucking amazing' on all other fronts (as if I didn't know). Compared to the four other chicks you've banged, this will be the best sex of your life. And as soon as we're done, you'll start forming a mental list of which buddies you are going to text message first about this while at the same time wondering if you could possibly spend the rest of your life with me.
In the sobering light of morning, you'll forget that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me and instead opt for a "two-night stand" but you'll quickly realize that I am having none of that and somehow weasle my way into staying over, cooking breakfast and reading your newspaper. I will also have conveniently brought my toothbrush and some sanitary products which I quickly store in your bathroom cabinets since 'I'm going to be spending a lot of time at your place.' Your Maxim magazines will go from the top of the toilet to the bottom of the wastebasket because I find them 'offensive' and 'immature.'
Later that day, you'll log onto Facebook and find out that I'm 'in a relationship'...with you. Yay! At first, you'll think it's creepy but then (due to your inferiority complex) you'll take it as a compliment and change your relationship status too.
Within an hour, you'll receive 57 new notifications which indicate that I've commented on every photo in your album in which you appear with an unidentified female. Your relationships with these family members, college friends and co-workers will quickly disintegrate as you mistake my obsession for passion and declare your undying commitment to me and stop returning other people's calls.
Friends will caution you but you'll be too blinded by my mind-blowing felatio technique to notice anything. Besides, I've explained that they're just jealous of our love. Together, our poor self images will have us each convinced that the other is cheating. We'll fight about it all the time. Non-stop.
On our 'good days' we'll shower each other with undeserved gifts and sexual favors and the accusatory banter will be minimal - though still prevalent.
Things will be going 'pretty well' for a while until one night your phone battery dies and you fall asleep early - forcing me into an incoherent panic. Six unreturned voicemails and text messages will lead me to believe only the worst - you ARE cheating on me! To confirm my suspicions, I will immediately log into all your personal accounts - since you are so technologically oblivious you left your passwords saved on my computer - and find a message to be mad about. It will likely be a harmless flirtation from a platonic friend who lives six states away that pushes me over the edge.
Unable to reach her or you - I will scramble into my car and drive barefoot to your apartment where I will ride up on the curb knocking over an unsuspecting potted plant. The commotion outside will rouse you from your slumber and you'll stumble bleary- eyed to the window just in time to see me throw the car in reverse and plow into your beloved Huyndai Elantra.
In short order, the police will come, I will cry, you will shout, your landlord will evict you and your insurance company will drop you. On the bright side, our names will be forever emblazoned together onto a county police report.
Despite all this, it will take another several months for you to come to your senses and break-up with me. Knowing that I am a ticking bomb, you will execute this in the kindest, most reasonable way possible. You will make every effort to lift my spirits by explaning that "It's not you, it's me." and that "I deserve someone better."
All this, to no avail. The only way you can truly be rid of me is to change your phone number and move across the country where you'll make new friends and find a new insecure girlfriend to emotionally abuse for months until she finally reaches her psychological breaking point and throws a wine glass at you and storms out of a restaurant.
Everyone will be looking at you, dripping in Pinot Noir with an astonished look on your face. In your head you'll be thinking, "Ha. That was nothing. You should see my Huyndai Elantra."
And, that, is why I'll be the best psycho ex-girlfriend you've ever had.
Yes the bra top is always the way to go when taking your profile pic.
Ahh the cute couple. In reality its WTF?!
I think I saw her in Saw 3.
Come join me in the bathtub of life.
Yes a girl I finally take home to Mom.
Oh jeez. I'm really sorry that happened to your friend. Was it an accident or was she born that way?
With pictures like these you always have to wonder if this is really the person or not.
Oh yeah! Posing on the toilet is so sexy. REOW!!
I would like to say that this is photoshopped, but then why would she do that. I'm just plain scarred.
If you're going to block that much out why don't you go all the way.Location: Virginia Beach
FIRST OFF-- I DO NOT DATE OUTSIDE MY RACE.....NO INSULTS INTENDED....BUT THIS ISABOUT ME... SO!! DONT BE INSULTED..SO ..MOVE ON BRODDAS---- AND HERE WE GO!!!!!!! I WOULD LOVE TO MEET A FRIEND FIRST.....THEN SEE HOW IT GOES. I AM A SINGLE MOMMA AND I WORK MY ASS OFF! IF YOU ARE UN-INHIBITED AND A HARD WORKER---THEN YOU SHOULD EMAIL...IF NOT---DO NOT WASTE YOUR F**** TIME! just being honest here!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE I ROLL LIKE THAT!I HAVE ALOT TO OFFER AND WANT SOMEONE WHO HAS AS MUCH, IF NOT MORE THAN ME!!!!!IM A GIVER!!!!!!!!!!! BELIEVE IT!!!! BUT NOT A PUNK!!!!!!Oh---- P-s- If you live in some small po-dunk place in the mountains and you are related to your cousin---------MOVE ON DUDE!! DONT DO INBREADS!!!
Two for the price of one. What more can you want.
Yes I can see your stud. Does it want to go out?
I have to admit it is a great picture otherwise.
First I think everyone has seen Kill Bill, plus this isn't the most romantic picture in the world.
Please save me from this drunken fool.
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