Post Date: Tuesday, January 1, 2013 Posted in: Women Seeking Men
The first thing you need to know about me is I am all about my WORK. In high school, I was too much of a workaholic to even have a boyfriend…until high school was over. He showed up senior year. We barely saw each other (I was determined not to get pregnant before college, and this almost broke down on prom night, but luckily there was a 7-11 near the hotel to buy condoms in, as well as those animal terrorists who rode me in fake Clydesdales up and down Michigan Avenue in Chicago; all this helped buy time). I digressed. So, I was busy running track, bossing the Student Council, candy-striping, church going, working bullshit jobs and fighting off booze, drugs, gossip and negative influences. I also did not need you guys too much back then. My parents were my two-income household. Despite that, I have had beautiful and romantic relationships over my 35 years, always for some years (6 in the longest case, 2 in a shortest). I still love all but the two who were Grade-A jerks. I could maybe love you. I’m willing to start the New Year off on something, or someone, different. Interpret that how you wish.
I put up this profile because my work and life habits now envelope me so much I rarely get out. Plus, all the usual channels where people meet—friends, outings, school—have evaporated; I am old: done with school forever, so are friends and they are obsessed with the best brand of pre-school. So, it’s scary to think of meeting a guy when I go out for a few glasses of wine by myself. Yes, I do that and I’m not a whore. Still, that is not the “How we met” story I care to tell my parents or friends, let alone children and grandchildren. It is also not the best way to substantiate I’m a serial monogamist who is revolted by the open relationship, booty call and swinger movements.
I am a writer, which means I am neurotic and verbose. I’d be annoyed if you texted me “Wazzup!?!” or “K.” You will have to seriously talk to me. Sorry. I will demystify the “writer” thing for you, so you won’t see me as a novelty or more interesting notch. I am nothing like Carrie on Sex in the City or Jack Nicholson in The Shining. I spend a lot of time at home communicating to nothing but a machine with the alphabet and standard universal symbols on it, my controlling and spoiled pit bulls (they are sweethearts, I swear), and cocky game show hosts I scream answers to. I am narcissistic by default, but it’s not my fault. It comes with the work. I have to be very tedious and detail-oriented about words on a page, communication, business particulars and those grubby curses called “invoices” (most of mine are outstanding at any given point in time). If a real job or big business calls me I will get paid—on time. But that type of freelancing started to dwindle ten years ago. It almost completely stopped five years ago. Thanks, Internet. So, I am also often broke. This is where you might come in.
If you’re horny, you might not want to waste your time here. Yes, I have sexual issues. I am a beautiful woman. Prior to that, I was a pretty girl. Even longer ago, I was a cute baby. I expect to be a hot mom. That means I’ve spent a great portion of my life entertaining others’ admiration of my body and booty. This has included those innocuous older ladies in the supermarket who delayed my mother’s shopping so they could just gaze at my tiny and confused face, or those distant cousins who suddenly wanted to hang out at our house all the time when I hit 13, or the older bosses and contemporary co-workers who spent more time telling me I smell good than noticing my great job—until all of the distraction and attention at my desk, or on my time, caused me to do a poor job. The poor job, of course, was (finally) noticed. None of this is flattering. It is an extraordinarily stressful existence to spend a third of my time here on Earth thinking up creative and harmless ways to tell men to get lost. I’d rather be writing.
You are probably why I’ve evolved to be a writer. I can work from home, stay inside, have no bosses or co-workers to fend off, and avoid you. I have had my income, homes, life and car insurance premiums impacted by the lifelong pattern of men thinking it is cool to remark on my body, cause me to forget the grocery list in my head, or once-in-a-while push me to yelling while speeding. It used to be called harassment. Now, it’s normal public life. That being said, you are not unique or unusual if I turn you on. But, I am an optimist. I am such an optimist I ventured to even post a picture for you to jerk off to. But here I go again—telling far too much too quickly.
I would love to have the romantic as well as intellectual partnership of a very left-brained type of guy: an honest and moral attorney (is that an oxymoron?), a real entrepreneur, an intelligent (tenured) academic, an artist who is not dreamy and broke but rather organized and in-the-black. You could help me out a lot. Although I can be a creative ingénue, down to the feng shui color coordinations of every room in my home and my resuscitations of Mason Jars for functional reasons, I am mostly just a simple and nice girl. In other words, I am not out here to hurt anybody. I could use a rude guy with both pragmatism and a chip on his shoulder. We’d be a great combination. And if you will never keep part of a dead animal, sad skeleton, or poor carcass in my fridge, to make me cry thinking about how your meat lost its life, you definitely have bonus points.
I wish I could give you a bucket list of possible dates to involve scaling mountains, bungee jumping and setting up our webcam porn site. Sorry. I am a bit simpler. I would love to go to the gym with you, since that is just another place where men mob me. Any way for us to really talk—as in over wine at a bar, or in a coffee shop, or over a good meal (pricey or neighborhood dive—is more important to me than fabricated adrenaline rushes. I’m not one for tip-toeing around book signings, art galleries and museums, pretending to be pensive and cerebral, flicking one piece of hair over and over or keeping my arms cross my chest. I do that all the time by myself. I don’t need you for that. I would depend on you to make me silly, stupid and tipsy. Especially tipsy. I’m a sucker for movies, usually in the Fall and Winter, when the better efforts are released. And it’s cold, so you can hug me in the theater. My biggest guilty pleasure is stadium-sized debauchery. I like to pay $300 to stand in line and be squished, $500 for a dress I’ll sweat out of while my Samsara or Chanel perfume gets hotter along with everyone else’s funk, $20 for a plastic cup of wine, $10 for a tub of popcorn, $5 for an adult diaper to keep me out of the nasty bathrooms; there is nothing like a rock concert or professional game with thousands of people happy, excited and crazy to be there. So: movies, dinner, talking, wine and remote, Superbowl, Stones orgy…Bingo!
I have no physical preferences or fetishes. I know some people have patterns or “types.” But I have to say: I have happily enjoyed range in every arena of my life—be it work, friends, pets, homes, travels, hobbies and love. I’ll know it when I see it.
ON THE REBOUND
Post Date: Thursday, February 14, 2013 Posted In: Men Seeking Women
I’m a clean-cut, handsome, nice kind of guy looking for my lady to share the other half of the popcorn bucket, steal all the covers at night, rhyme along with old-school hip hop and shoot hoops with me while I bounce ideas off both our respective intelligent heads. I like soul house music, afrobreat, old school hip-hop, rhythm and blues, some rock and dancehall. I would love to take you to restaurant, before we take a long walk along Lake Michigan after our dinner, and exchange poetry by moonlight.
I’m a DJ in the music industry. “Like” me on Facebook and visit my Myspace Page: Myspace.com/YourNumberOneDjOutOfMillions. Website under construction. Fashion line and scented oils coming soon. Connect with me so we can build. One.
I’m mostly looking for a woman to be caring and understanding of my career, and understanding of my reality as an entrepreneur reaching for sky’s the limit baby. If you have visions of a man taking you to the top, Cristal and Ibiza and Barney’s and yachts and all that, I’m the man for you sweetheart.
Truth be told I just got out of a situation with a young lady. We still cool. She’s good peoples. She was a writer. Kind of educated and intense. She was always correcting my English and finishing my sentences. So, we decided to part ways for now. But, we still talk. She’s writing my website bio, and my press kit, and all my other marketing materials. She already started the work when we fell apart. She wasn’t gonna let me get out of paying her for it. So we’re friends in a business sense, but that other part of our relationship is over. I left her alone, or we left each other alone (she would correct that statement if she saw it), so she can find her own little Jerry Maguire.
Anyway, we might not be a match if you think you’re better than everybody, or stuck-up, or prissy, or saddity. And especially if you want kids. I’m happy as a free man now, thank you very much. Although you would definitely have to meet my beautiful daughter (don’t worry, no baby mama drama at all going on). Again, the situation just didn’t work out. I have no formal education, but I am self-educated to the maximum baby. I’m like Kanye—college dropout genius baby.
Drop me a line and let’s figure out somewhere special to go and something special to do. You won’t regret me. I’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you.
I HAVE CANCER
Post Date: Monday, April 1, 2013 Posted In: Recreational Activities
I decided to post this ad because I’ve been on hold for nearly an hour now with my health insurance company and figured I should do something useful with the time.
The “Hold” music is pretty good. Sounds like bossa nova, or the type of elevator music you hear at pretty hotels where you might spot a celebrity at the bar. If we were closer, as in not sentenced to telepathy via our digital boxes, but right next door to each other or maybe down the hall from one another, I would invite you over. My phone’s on speaker now, since my shoulder and jaw started to hurt as I held it, while I wait for a specialist to answer. I have a question about a new treatment no one at the hospital informed me of, but a support group member told me about. I am unsure if my question qualifies as a life-or-death concern. Whether it passes that test or not, I would say forty minutes is a long-time to sit on hold, no matter how good the music is. You can really hear the music pretty loud. If I had roommates we could have a party. But for now “Personals” will have to do, and just as well.
My last party?!?!? Drumroll…This past March, I decided to go out with a bang for what could be my last birthday (I’m told this attitude won’t help). I found a DJ on Craigslist and booked him through Myspace. A waste. He actually stopped the music to fight with his ex-girlfriend. Half my friends got sick at the sushi bar I chose for this nonsense. The worst part came when I unwrapped nothing but symbols of condolence: prayer books, inspirational quote journals, chakra candles, acupuncture gift certificates, terry cloth bath and robe sets (“Cute for the hospital!”), Iyanla Vanzant mini-books, Joel Olsteen CDs, tree bark and twigs passed off as holistic tea from Chinatown, burial insurance contributions. Not one vibrator or thong or plane ticket in the whole booty. With friends like this, who ever needed cancer?
You could come over to my top-floor place in my apartment facing Lake Michigan (we can see the Navy Pier ferris wheel if we stand on our tippy toes in the pantry). Maybe call up a few more of your friends. We could use your phones to order pizza and barbecue from a few delivery spots who know my address by now. I’d run across the alley to the liquor store folks who always answer my frantic raps at their windows after closing. The owner pulled a pistol on me the first time I so imposed, the night after the morning I found out my diagnosis. I needed another clear liquid to go along with tears and snot. So, each time I come back he feels guilty about pulling a gun on me the same day I found out I had cancer and he was the first to know. Now he talks to me and gives me deals on bootleg liquor. I’ll come back with a few six-packs of Big Flats and Sapporo, a few bottles of Bogle or Barefoot. We could dance, so long as you don’t mind the intermittent interruptions of an automatic operator’s instructions to visit their website. All we wouldn’t have to even pine for a DJ. Not bad for a cheap date in Chicago in middle of November. I’ve already licked snowflakes off my nose. Can you believe it? Who doesn’t need a cuddle buddy? I guess if you really want to know my essence, my natural person and being, that “fundamental core” crap, you see it here. I’m a glass half full lady. Yes, it is cold. Yes, I fear the future. Yes, I still believe in love.
So OK, for the normal essentials of these kinds of things, I will do my best:
- Job: Boiler Room Bitch at a Dearborn Street firm
- 155 pounds on a good day, pre-chemo weight, as I’m told the “Cancer Fast” works
- Good. “Indian in the family” hair
- Proud Fighting Illini
- Member of Delta Sigma Theta sorority
- Former kickboxer
- Have run the Chicago Marathon, twice
- Cat Mommy (deal with it)
- Favorite Music: R & B divas like CeCe Penniston, Monica, Chaka Khan, etc…
- Favorite Movies: Romances (surprise, surprise!) like Love Jones, Best Man, etc…
- Income: enough for me to afford the internet, home phone and smart phone bundle which enable this pitiful moment, as well as health insurance I once took for granted and nuisance. But honestly, about $67,000 after taxes.
Well, it sounds like a human being on the line right now to help me determine if I can qualify for the advanced treatment one survivor told me about today. Hold on.
I’m back. I have laryngeal cancer, the eloquent way to say my voicebox is tattered after two decades of smoking Newports and marijuana, to the horror of my parents. And my church. They all strongly disapproved when there were hints I had started to do both. But, hey, I never saw those people once I left half my life behind. Who cared what they thought? I wouldn’t say those in my day-to-day life approved or disapproved. They were indifferent, which is why I really have told no one in my day-to-day life about this. I found a therapist and joined a support group instead. A man started all this…but I still believe. My Newport and pothead days started fifteen years ago with a boyfriend back at U of I. He smoked so many blunts I had to do all his homework. He needed cigs to come to and I needed them to stay up. Now, he’s a personal trainer and Noni Juice thousandaire. Talk about baggage and irony.
So, by the time you see this ad and I respond and we go back and forth and play the game and blah blah blah, I may not be able to actually talk to you at all. Or maybe I’ll only be able to do so a little (with a little help from the little robot talk machine they’re going to stick in a hole in my throat in the Fall, fittingly on Halloween, if I can get it approved). Or, maybe still, I could be dead. Just thought I’d let you know ahead of time.
LOOKING FOR PRETTY LOGAN SQUARE LADY WHO USED TO BUY LOT OF WINE FROM ME
Post Date: Friday, August 9, 2013 Posted in: Carrier Pigeons
Hello. My name Marvin. I owner at grocery and liquor store on Kedzie and Belmont. My English no too good. I looking for pretty black lady live up here I think on Fullerton she say. I am clerk who wait on you close to midnight and let you in on the specials. We talk about the sports and music, and our life. You come in at night. That’s when we see each other to talk. I going back to school like you tell me I should do. I still working hard. I no see you in a while and really miss see you. You have pretty nice smile and pretty eyes. The friend who come by talk to me sometimes late at night remember you too. Remember him? He say you really nice too. I no see you since it been getting warm and put up this ad so you can come back see us. I never get your phone number or address. Or even your name. I hope you find my message to you.
FIXED, DE-CLAWED, ONE OWNER
Post Date: Friday, August 9, 2013 Posted In: Pets for Adoption
Hannah is a young, beautiful, slim, charcoal grey, coal-eyed feline. She would be a perfect birthday present. She likes to chase laser pointers and knotted socks with catnip inside. She also loves water, which most cats hate…just another special thing about her. She plays with leaky faucets and puddles, and loves to watch television and computer screens. Hannah is available for you to adopt immediately. Her mother, our friend, died of cancer. We are terribly allergic. Otherwise, we’d keep her.
If you’re interested in meeting Hannah and bringing her into your home, please reply to this ad with the subject line of: “Hannah the Great Cat.” I ‘m a securities lawyer by day and harried mom/wife by night, so I’ll know to get to it quicker that way.
Please give Hannah a good home. She’s already lost her mom. Please help.
Post Date: Saturday, August 31, 2013 Posted In: Pets for Adoption
Meet June, an energetic and delightful female. She’s currently fostered by volunteer Anne of “We Love South Side Cats.” June is a lap cat, calm and mild-mannered. She is charcoal gray with lovely green eyes. She’s been neutered as well as de-clawed. We’re unsure of her exact age, but according to her dental development, she appears to be in between two and four. June came to us very shy and withdrawn after being abandoned to our porch steps. But over time she has opened up to reveal a talkative and vibrant personality. She must have enjoyed a famously good owner and home before arriving to us. She does not have a mean bone in her entire body. June eagerly awaits a brand new home where she can stay, thrive and grow. A special message from June:
“I love the television more than you do. And, as my new handlers quickly found out, I love cream, veggie pizza and even Doritos. I hope you’re not a techie. I love to play with a cursor across a computer screen and moving concentric bubble screensavers. When I’m not snuggled up under you, I’m marveling at birds on the sills. I’m sure my emotional and sensitivity quotients are quite high, as I have a myriad of interesting expressions I’m sure you will enjoy and respond to. I love people very much.”
To adopt June, you would need to fill out an application here in our offices in between the hours of 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. from Monday through Thursday, and on Saturdays from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. Please be sure to bring updated identification, as well as the deed to your home or the lease to your apartment. If you are a renter, we must speak with your landlord or building management to confirm your ability to possess an animal within your home. If you have other pets, we would request you bring them to our organization or we visit your home to inspect so we can verify their safety to other cats. We charge a $100 adoption fee to all interested parties, in order to discriminate between serious potential owners and others who will use animals for harmful purposes.
We Love South Side Cats is a non-profit (403b) organization specializing in the capture, rescue, neutering, spading, placement and long-term care of feral, abandoned and seized cats. Please visit www.WeLoveSouthSideCats.com to make a donation, join our esteemed network of volunteers who foster cats or adopt your very own cat like June. Our Eighth Annual We Love South Side Cats Benefit Concert will take place this Holiday Season at the Chicago Animal Lovers Museum in downtown Chicago. To inquire about sponsorship of this event, please contact our Communications and Public Relations Director Natalie Ramirez at 312.922.5551. Thank you.
HI! MY NAME IS MARTY.
Post Date: Wednesday, October 16, 2013 Posted In: Women Seeking Men
Thanks for clicking on my ad…pleased to *meet* you!
I am a supervisor at Unilever, where I’ve worked for the last twenty years. I live alone with my four-year old son Carter and our brand new kitty June, in a house in the Robertsdale section of Hammond, Indiana. June was a rescue cat. Carter, however, is here with his original mom. I hurled his father over the moon some time ago. I’m divorced. So, I just decided to put up an ad to see what happens.
I love love love music. Classical music. Pop music. Blues music. Funk music. Punk rock music. Blues. Rock. Gospel. Ska. Acid. R & B. Techno. Dance. Disco. A tiny bit of heavy metal: think tame Bon Jovi and Queen. Everything and anything…but rap. No, I do not like Jay-Z or Eminem. No, I do not prefer Tupac to Biggie, or vice versa. It’s all way too much noise to me, and I don’t at all like to know that people who can’t hold a tune or play an instrument are allowed to make music. I say that as a girl who was forced to play the clarinet in high school because we had to pick an extracurricular—and there was no way I was going for the drums or coming to school at 7:30 in the morning for the only piano class. So there’s something to be said for reading music and playing along with the rules of everyone else as dictated by time immemorial. I understand the rest of the world, including the Grammy’s and even MTV, strongly disagrees with me. My favorites include Kenny Rogers, Tammy Wynette. The Bee Gees, Blondie, Madonna, Celine Dion, Pat Benatar, Boy George and most recently Justin Timberlake. So, if you wind up spending time with me, you’d have to be prepared to sing along with a lot of radio. And, occasionally suffer through my nostalgia for the clarinet.
I’m a proud tomboy for life. My most hated expression is: “Hit like a girl.” You don’t want me to hit you buddy. My ex-husband found that out. I am addicted to the NBA and Final Four playoff seasons, and I play a bit of tennis myself. And I made it through my mother’s robbery/murder/life sucks a few years back. Well more than a few years back, but I’m told it all takes time. All things considered, I came out of that one fairly unscathed. So, to clear it all up for you in advance: yes, I’m one of those “strong” women. It always made me wonder why “Strong Black Woman” was a popular phrase on the radios and in the movies. I imagine I’m what it meant by that saying, though I’m what’s called “Mighty White.” Yes, I listen to Barry Manilow. No, I don’t use cornmeal cornbread for my stuffing. Just breadcrumbs. And yes I like butterfly hair clips in my hair. But, despite all that, which means I am White, I’d say I am still very, very ‘strong.’
However, being strong is not the purposes of my ad here. That’s your job, buster. Yes. Between Carter, and now June, and dare I mention a few Alaskan huskies who have died along the way, I started life off in a trailer park at the edge of Illinois and grew it to my own ranch homes on a lot of property in central Indiana. And, I have to say at my ripe old age of forty, I’m open and happy to entertain men within ten years on either side of that sliding scale. You could snag a cougar if you’re on the low end. Come on and rob the cradle if you’re on the higher end. I guess that’s what makes this age I’m at here now so spectacular. I’m only living it once, and there’s no reason I should be living it alone with just my son, my cat and a wedding album the cat peed on. Same things goes for race. I am more interested in what you are like on the inside—honesty, integrity, great sense of humor, self-respect—than what color/texture your pubic hair is. Hope to hear from you!
MAN IN UNIFORM SEEKS FEMALE IN BIRTHDAY SUIT (WHITE, ASIAN, LATINA ONLY!!!!!!!)
Post Date: Thursday, October 31, 2013 Posted In: Hookups
Women and men always talking about this honesty and communication crap. Let’s be real and honest, and cut to the chase. Yes I need a woman. I’m sick of going to bed by myself. I have needs same as the next man. And no I do not want a dried up nag. I want to hear from women under 30. Last relationship (marriage) didn’t work out. I am a police officer. There’s certain things to keep in mind when dating a man in uniform: he is going to stay out late at night, he may not be able to pick up all your calls and texts, he is not going to have time to Like or Share everything you post on Facebook, he is going to be tired, he is going to snore, and he is going to want to eat and fuck when he gets off work. If you can understand that about dating a police officer, you’re halfway there.
I own my own house in the Hegewisch section of Chicago, basically right at the tip of Indiana off the South Shore Metra line. Divorced. I got a four-year old son named Carter. He lives with his mother in Indiana. She won’t let me see him too much, so you don’t have to worry about too much about baby mama drama. Unless it’s the fact I will be talking about a son I can’t really see. His mama won’t let me.
I’m looking for a White, Asian or Latina woman ONLY (please, no Black or African women) who wants to be spoiled in what little spare time I do have. If you are Black or African and send a pic, I will not respond. Must be mature and open-minded, self-sufficient. I can’t promise to pay your bills or anything, but for the right lady I am definitely capable of lending a certain measure of financial support depending on what you do for me in return. Please respond with a face and body PIC. Any responses which do not include the pictures will not be opened or entertained at all. Have a great day.
I’M SEXY AND I KNOW IT.
Post Date: Sunday, November 3, 2014 Posted in: Women Seeking Men
Okay we gonna keep this shit real simple. I’m tall, long legs, nice ass and big titties. I got that real long hair. You know you want it. I need a motherfucker pay my bills.
LADIES BEWARE POLICE SCAM FAKE
Post Date: Saturday, November 16, 2013 Posted In: Men Seeking Women, Women Seeking Men
DO NOT respond to ad from police officer he not a police officer he a security guard and he don’t like black women. Not even if you mixed with white. He beat my friend.
Post Date: Friday, December 20, 2013 Splash Page
We regret to inform our visitors we have had to suspend all activity here on Personals until further notice, as there have been too many complaints and reports of scams as well as the current criminal investigation we have the misfortune of being associated with.
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Kalisha Buckhanon majored in English at University of Chicago and received her M.F.A at The New School in New York City. She is author of the novels Conception and Upstate, published by John Murray in London and Rouergue in Paris. Her writing has been featured or is forthcoming in Michigan Quarterly Review, London Independent on Sunday, Colorlines, Fiction International, Hermeneutic Chaos, xoJane and more. She is an Illinois Arts Council fellowship winner and was born in Illinois, where she returned to University of Chicago for graduate studies in English.