"Mediocre advertisers cringe in their boxes when I move in. All powerful big boss man of South Yorks publishing empire seeks, and shall have, tall blonde trophy trollop. Must enjoy trans-Pennine minicab weekends with view to marriage. Box no. 21/03Damn, it's cold in here ...
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 thirtysomethings for illicit and immoral affair to be conducted concurrently with the above. Box no. 21/11
Shy, serious minded and the search goes on for my chin. Oxbridge type, London based, Geneva bound (New Year) M seeks life of sin with delicately raunchy French-speaking twenties F. Box no. 22/10
People I'm still afflicted with both a cold, and the inability to get to the end of the special features which accompany the extended version of 'Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring', so slim pickings tonight (although that last post was something of a bombshell). So I'll leave you with the joy that is the personal ads from 'The London Review of Books':
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