Post the funniest Craigslist Ads you have seen here for the rest of us to crack up at:

here's mine

best of craigslist : guy that flashed me on i-90

Text below:

guy that flashed me on i-90
Date: 2007-10-18, 1:57PM EDT


Dear Man who flashed me on I-90.

I was in the passenger side of my friends car, on a quiet saturday driving home from crossgates mall. I am usually driving, so i was taking this time as a passenger to take in the beauty that is I-90.

As i am innocently gazing out my window, i notice a large blue chevy i belive pick up truck 2 lanes over. Normally i would of not looked twice but something caught my eye.

You sir were waving wildly at me, thinking i might know you, i took my sunglasses off to get a better look at you.

Some movement again caught my eye, you were no longer waving at me, but fiddaling with your pants. This should of been a sign to turn away, but i was confused.

Thats when it happend. You some how managed to keep one foot on the gas, along with your right hand on the steering wheel. and in a matter of seconds were able to stand up with your whole front body facing me (which im still baffled how you managed to do this ans drive)

you then started pelvic thrusting your 'cash and prizes' in my direction, while laughing hysterically, like i just opend a can of peanuts, but a snake made out of springs popped out. This action looked much like any movie where you see a male stripper pelvic thrusting, but unlike its done in the movies usually with the saftey of boxer shorts, or tight black pants like the Chippendales wear. Not you sir, no no. You had the pants, and the boxers pulled down, and your t shirt pulled up a little. I even saw belly button.

(see picture examples)

This act lasted around 5, or 6 seconds, then you cowardly took the next exit to escape my face full of horror.


Im sure scareing me for life is hilarious. and im not exactly sure what the thrill was of flashing me on I-90. Im sure it wasnt to impress a friend, because you were alone. And you were not an old guy, im sure you could of had a girlfriend, or a wife, so flashing a random 21 year old girl on the highway is a little baffaling to me.

But this letter flasher guy, is not to express my anger twords you. Its to let you know, my friend that was driving is upset she missed this horrifying/hilarious act, and would like you to drive by us again, but this time on the driver side.

Thanks buddy.


(i probably spelled 10000 things wrong in here, im at work, im typing fast, i dont give a shit)

(ALSO my drawing of flasher guys 'cash and prizes' are of fruit, because again, im at work, and i cant draw penises on paint in the fear of beign fired)

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haha, did anyone respond?

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Once you go Asian, you'll never go caucasian

This one was my favorite:


I'll try to sum up a funny story that happened a few years ago:

I got a vasectomy.

I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.

I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.

We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her - as I was to find out - it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.

Four months into dating, I get the "I'm pregnant" talk. She's going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married "for the baby". She's positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she's gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.

At this point, I'm just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oops" on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can't think beyond their own uteri.

So I wait a couple of days to "think about all this." I meet her again. I say I don't want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.

Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I'm laughing hysterically.

It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm" to show I'm sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I'm ready.

I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.

She's all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"

Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she's really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she's a slut. I'm just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I'm not really mad. I'm kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won't shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.

I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.

I tell her simply, "You're screwed".

Her look doesn't change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.

I continue. "I am sterile"

Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women's logic. "You're full of shit. You're trapped and you know it."

I hold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."

This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."

I was ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It's a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine."

I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It's a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.

I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.

Epilogue -

I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.

The Moral of the Story -

Get a vasectomy but keep it a secret.

that is freaking awesome lol

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Life is about trusting our feelings and taking chances,losing and finding happiness,appreciating the memories and learning from the past.

Here's another one I really like:

Take me in the weeds
Date: 2007-08-14, 10:19PM PDT


My dearest Casual Encounter,

We met on Craigslist. You were the one with the sensual, alluring title - "Ram your cock inside me and spurt your hot load!". I knew you were the one for me by the way you typed in ALL CAPS and listed enough conditions to make a contact attorney proud. Your policies of "FACE PICT *ONLY*! NO COCK SHOTS!" and "NASTY, OLD PERVERTS NEED NOT APPLY!" really resonated with me. And you chose me. of the 357 responses you received, you chose mine. I like to think it was my charm, wit, and carefully crafted prose. That or the Abercrombie and Fitch model I chose for "my" picture.

We both were in relationships, but we needed something more. We needed each other, if only for that one afternoon. So I took off work early. Wasn't feeling well; going home to rest. You just left a note on the counter - "out shopping". Why wouldn't he believe that?

I lust you, but I don't trust you. I can't let you know where I live. You don't care, but he could be home any minute. And I certainly wouldn't want to be around for that. Motels are so cliché. (OK, really we're cheap.) Besides, wouldn't it be totally hot to do it outside, totally exposed to the whole world? I'd never done such a thing before. Neither had you.

So we met at the park at 4. The sun was just starting to go down. The light though the trees was sublime. You in your easy-access summer dress. The shine of your hair. The look in your eye. I wanted you. I needed you. I simply had to have you.

But where? Had to be close. No time to wander around when sex is imminent. Somewhere out of the way. Others can't see. Up that hill. In the trees. Underbrush all around. I pull it aside for you as we make our slow progress trystward. You do the same for me. Then an opening. Nestled into a copse. Surrounded by scrub brush. Perfect.

The blanket goes down and 3 seconds later your tongue is in my mouth. So warm. So soft. So wet. I can no longer think. All the blood is in my cock. I reach my hand down your pants. It's like my toiletry kit fresh out of Miami baggage claim - a hot, wet, sticky mess. You moan and I'm inspired to keep going. First one, then two fingers. Thumb on your clit. It's not long be you're there. I keep kissing you the whole time, but really I'm staring at your face. At the look of pure pleasure. Then you go silent. Your body tenses and arches and I can feel the intense contractions inside you.

You reach for me and I'm ready, clothes off in 6 seconds. After witnessing your performance, I'm already close. Really close. You stroke me. You lick me, and less than a minute later I black out for the longest 5 seconds of my life.

Back into focus, and my gaze lands upon your face. We exchange an awkward look, like we're back in high school and aren't sure what to make of all this. You pull your hand back looking with concern at the mess on it. I pull out a Kleenex and push it at you while I use another to deftly wipe off my stomach.

Nothing left to say, so I get up and start putting on my clothes. You pick up the blanket. I make one last effort on the way back to the cars; I gently brush the cruft out of the back of your hair. You turn half-way toward me and give me a tight-lipped smirk.

That was yesterday. Today I am itchy. And swollen. I have splotchy rashes on my body But my cock is the worst. It's bright red, raw, and about 50% bigger than normal. Now I know the secret of those spammers who claim to increase your girth - poison oak.

I'm sorry, Casual Encounter girl. Sorry if I got poison oak on you like you did to me. Or worse, in you. I'd like to say it was worth it, but I can't. Not now. Maybe in a few days this will be more funny than painful. I hope so. But I do know that next time, we're splitting the cost of the motel.

^
ROTFL!! Niccce!!

I hope that was poison oak and not something else... How the hell do you get poison oak on your crotch??

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Sexiest trashman ever! - w4m

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2008-05-21, 4:19PM MDT


I know you probably get this a lot, but you are the hottest garbage man I have ever seen. Every Tuesday, I wait at my window desperately at 8:00 AM waiting for you. I love your strong muscles; not matter how heavy my waste is, you have no problem lifting it. Sometimes I hide bricks in there just so I can see your sweaty big muscles in real action. You may know my house specifically because I always leave my old lingerie lying on top of all my other trash. I put it out there for you, you know. I want you to have them. Don't worry, I spray a little perfume on them before I toss them so they don't smell anymore. Anyway, if you like what you see in my trash, come inside sometime, there will be plenty more of where that came from.
Love,
Your Secret Admirer
P.S. I'm single with no kids. All the diapers are from my grandmother who lives with me.


Location: My trash can
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

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