The snowpocalypse is behind us and, like a hastily arranged internet sexual encounter, it was short and deeply dissatisfying. Bored, hungry, and fearing for their lives, New Yorkers took to the internet in droves to try to find some companionship for the end-times. Here’s the crème de la crème of Craigslist love-seekers who were just trying to take this half-assed blizzard to bonetown. Links are wildly NSFW.
Unsurprisingly, the quaint nineteenth-century hamlet of craftsmen off of the L and JMZ lines was overflowing with randy shut-ins. There’s this artist, who is “hilarious” and “horny as fuck” and wants to make you pumpkin pancakes (note: He closes his ad with “no prostitutes,” but if you’re willing to trade your body for artisanal flapjacks, where exactly is the line? Have you no shame?).
There are at least three ads that promise free-flowing whiskey, but the real winner is this gentleman hero who urges the ladies of Bushwick to “stay in your sweats” — he’ll pop over with doughnuts and booze (or whatever else you’re feeling) so you don’t even have to hit pause.
This Marine Park resident is just trying to knock out his whole to-do list in a single ad. He’s seeking someone to clear his driveway of snow and then follow it up with a little expert-level fellatio (maybe if you’re lucky you can have a glass of water between tasks). The requirements are pretty straightforward: “It does not matter to me if you are a chick or a guy, as long as you can shovel decently and suck a mean cock. And NO ONE OVER 30, thanks.” That age cutoff should really help winnow down the pool of interested parties clamoring to do two strenuous jobs for free.
Meanwhile, off the Graham L, there’s a guy with an in-apartment gloryhole (fucking gentrification. He probably has a humidor, too). While the ad itself is unremarkable, it does feature a high-resolution photo of the main attraction, in case you were struggling to picture a sheet with a goddamn hole in it. His only requirement is a couple of dick-pics.
Then there’s this self-proclaimed Falafel King, who wants to teach you how to make falafel but, failing that, dangles the promise of an Oprah marathon and/or Beyoncé dance party — he’s quick to clarify that he has “never done one of these before.” Being the Queen (of falafel) for a day while getting weird to Queen Bey actually sounds like a pretty solid setup.
Ladies, you can breathe easy now, because a “REAL DUDE…4 ANY SLUT WHO CAN HOST THIS FUCKING BLIZZARD” is here. Click at your own peril — this post contains a lot of dick and even more murderous Baby Face (it’s the new Blue Steel). He loves a “big buut,” which evidently is actually slang for a massive turd.
Finally, the best reminder that no volume of (imaginary) snow could make New York worse than the cheery hellscape of Los Angeles is this artist and musician whose interests include “foraging” and who would like you to burn through your airline miles to impulsively escape the blizzard and chill with him in L.A. (because if severe weather is good for anything, it’s last-minute air travel). Based on his physical description, there’s a 70 percent chance that this is either Scott Stapp or Criss Angel.