Bill. mrk. "Litt for litterær"

Hr. Armagnac fikk æren for forrige post (vel fortjent) og han har også æren for denne, som fra neste avsnitt av kun består av sitater fra personals-spalten til London Review of Books. I sannhet en, eh, veldig litterær gjeng. (Og det blir snart klart hvorfor den er illustrert med en utstoppet frosk.).

At first glance you may consider me a true modernist in the von Webern sense, but – like him – deep down I’m very much a romantic. As my collection of taxidermied amphibians will testify. Man, 60.
box no. 10/06

Don’t look back in anger, try condescension instead. Look sideways with schadenfreude and upward in revulsion. Serial divorcee (F, 53) has you in her sights next with a raft of sarcastic barbs and derisive statements, but a photo sent to box no. 09/02 along with a list of trite achievements that I’ll remain aloof and casually disdainful about should make the whole process slightly less painful by confronting the inevitable head on.
box no. 09/02

Think of every sexual partner you’ve ever had. I’m nothing like them. Unless you’ve ever slept with a German bulimic cellist called Elsa. Elsa: German bulimic cellist, (F, 37).
box no. 10/09

I’m still Jenny from the block. Which is odd because yesterday I was Keith from the allotment. Keith from the allotment, 49. You can call me Jenny.
box no. 08/04

Is there a charming man out there – warm, spontaneous, knowing? If so, could you reply to all the men currently appearing in this column and give them a few pointers? Attractive, educated woman, 46, fed up of having to fake emergency phone calls to avoid pre-dessert ramblings about your sister’s new conservatory and how much respect you have for Enya. You know who you are.
box no. 10/07