|WEEK IN CRAIG: BE-OTCH NO MORE IN 2004!|
Happy belated New Year, my little sweet potato pies! Welcome to the first column of the brand-spanking new, non-ironic, totally sarcasm-free, absolutely nice version of The Week In Craig.
Yes, that's right kids -- it's a new year, and there's a new sheriff in town. And this sheriff has decided to be a kinder, gentler Blair for 2004. Be-otch No More In 2004, if you will. Be Kind and Sincere For The New Year! Snottiness is Done After January One!
With that said, I'd like to regale you with a little yuletide tale. Bear with me, I know it's a few weeks late. But, before I start, I would just like to take a moment to point out that contrary to popular belief and what certain personality traits might suggest, I am neither a senior citizen, nor am I what my friend Sita calls "special." In other words, I'm not old or mentally challenged.
Which is why my mother's Christmas present to me this year left me thoroughly perplexed, self-doubting, and, honestly, depressed. For Christmas this year, my mother gave me a subscription to Reader's Digest.
This, friends, sent me into a minor emotional crisis of existential proportions. Why, why, would she think that I would want a subscription to Reader's Digest? Is it my shoes? The way I wear my hair? Most importantly, does she think that I'm, well, retarded? These are the questions that have been plaguing me for the past three weeks as I stare at the January issue that has been sitting on my counter, wrapped in plastic since its arrival.
Well, I finally ripped into it this afternoon and I've got to admit, I kind of like the Reader's Digest! Actually, that's putting it mildly. I hereby proclaim to the world, Reader's Digest is my new crack cocaine! Honestly, it's amazing. With stories as piquant as "'I Feel Silly: A T-shirt and Khakis Kind of Guy Submits to a Metrosexual Makeover" and "Renee Zellweger: Why You'll Never Take The Country Out of This Girl" and "Who's More Honest? Men or Women", I can't put this thing down. Not to mention those whacky monthly installations of "Only In America," "That's Outrageous!," "Humor In Uniform," and everyone's favorite "Laughter, The Best Medicine." That's right folks, yours truly ain't afraid to admit it: I love me some Reader's Digest! It's a whole new Amy Blair.
I'm serious. Reader's Digest isn't just some new guilty pleasure for me to laugh at from my detached little tower of self-righteousness and cruelty. Oh no, the R.D., baby, is the real deal. I'm hereby done with all these empty pleasures to fill the cold, empty, void in my life where other people have something called a 'heart' or a 'soul.' No, this time I'm sincere. Everyone, go out and get yourself a Reader's Digest subscription. No irony here: this magazine's da bomb. From here on out, I'm just a simple, happy, non-sarcastic girl. A simple, happy, non-sarcastic girl who looooves Reader's Digest.
Ok, ok, ok, fuck it. This whole sincere, Reader's Digest-loving resolution isn't gonna work. Alright, I'll give you what you want...some pathetic craigslist ads for you all to laugh at.
You sick, sick fucks.
I think this is a unique request. I am a 30-year-old male, self-sufficient, centered and spiritual living in Manhattan. I am very intelligent and creative, clean, in very good physical condition and accomplished in several areas, live alone unmarried. I am looking for a special partner to travel this path with me. You can be any age or race (over 18 or course) but I would hope that you are in touch with your sexuality and are striving for something on a different plane than the daily NYC illusionary mazes.
I have thought out, memorized and written a 10 part sexual rite based on the "Tree of Life". This symbolism goes back to the Egyptians and is very sacred. I am not a practicing Catholic or Jew. It doesn't not include anything hurtful or dark at all, it is a physic mediation of each of these "levels" with accompanying physical actions leading towards higher and higher stages of transcendentalism through sexual symbolism.
If you wish just to talk about this idea that's fine as well. But I am posting this sincerely, please be the same or don't spread your negativity.
Thank you for reading.
Ok. This ad plainly states that the poster is sincere. That he doesn't want anyone to spread their negativity if they're not into what he has to offer. But seriously, it's ads like this that make it so hard NOT to spread my negativity. It's ads like this that really make a girl throw her well-meaning resolutions out the window like bagels at innocent passersby on the street below. Listen, dude, a 10 part sexual rite based on the "Tree of Life?" You are so scary, it hurts.
Ok.....who's up for a competitive game of NUDE SCRABBLE?? Get out your mental dictionary, or surrender those pants! E-mail if interested......
Yabba, dabba. Nothing says "surrender those pants" like getting out the ol' mental dictionary. Grrrrrrrrrowl. Scrabble.
Are you a nice, cute, single girl who enjoys manual masturbation (no toys). If you're not a ho or a floozie, just a nice girl who is open about her body, and would be aroused by having a sweet, shy guy watching her.
It would be especially nice (but not essential) if you have shaven pubic hair, would also take off your top, know how to female ejaculate, can fist yourself, and/or are a virgin. Friendship desired. I love to hug and cuddle, too. If interested, please note borough and neighborhood and send a photograph (clothed) that accurately represents your face and figure.
Hear ye, hear ye -- all you shaven, topless, ejaculating, self-fisting virgins, form a line! I know there are, like, a bazillion of you out there...and each and every one of you, I'm certain, are going to go ga-ga for this guy. Afterall--he likes to hug and CUDDLE, too!
Anyway, kids, my resolution to be nice this year lasted all of 16 seconds. But, you know, I honestly am enjoying my new Reader's Digest subscription. Afterall, you just can't beat cover stories like "Laura Bush: The First Lady's Surprising Past."
Happy New Year everyone! Now, back to "Life In These United States." God bless the Reader's Digest. Thanks, mom!