Tiny Mind Gazette

“Love is strange—wait ‘til you see my feet.”

I can’t take credit for this headline; it’s from my favorite source of personal ads—the London Review of Books. My husband subscribes for the book reviews, but I go straight to the personals in the back. Truth be told, he does too. Don’t read too much into this; it’s just that they’re a good laugh.

He actually bought me a book of them for Christmas. They Call Me Naughty Lola is a collection of personal ads from the London Review of Books. A bit on the inside flap refers to them as “surreal haikus of the heart.” Some are absurd or self-deprecating, others a bit pervy.

The titles are an art form on their own:

Last time I had this much fun, I was on forty tablets a day.

My favourite Ben & Jerry’s is Acid-Boiled Bones of Divorce Lawyer.

Here are some sample ads:

They call me naughty Lola. Run-of-the-mill bearded physicist (M, 46).

Romance is dead. So is my mother, Man, 42, inherited wealth. Box no. 7642.

In a certain light I look like Robert Mitchum. In a certain light you look like Kim Novak. More usually I look like Shrek. More usually you still look like Kim Novak. Yes, you’re very unlucky. Now pass me the Doritos and get over it. Box no. 3917.

Hi, I’m an intelligent, attractive, cultured, recently divorced woman in her early forties looking for a man whose maxim in life isn’t ‘pull my finger’ or ‘smelt it, dealt it.’ Box no. 5022.

Mature gentleman (62), aged well, noble grey looks, fit and active, sound mind and unfazed by the fickle demands of modern society seeks…damn it, I have to pee again. Box no. 4131.

I’m a Pisces—which makes you and me a bad match, but how about your good-looking friend? Non-commital, easily-distracted, fly-by-night F (35). Sorry, I think I just heard my phone ring. Box no. 2541.

I am the hunter and you are my quarry. 117-year-old male Viagra bootlegger finally in the mood for a bit of young totty. Which realistically could be any one of you with working hip joints and a minimum 20% lung capacity. Box no. 3112.

TMG Personal Ads Contest!
Valentine’s Day is less than two weeks away. Depending on your age, status and state of mind, this either fills you with the warm-and-fuzzies or utter dread. Kind of like New Year’s Eve. But following the TMG ethos, let’s make it fun. And ridiculous.

Announcing the first annual TMG Personal Ads Contest. Submit a personal ad—or two or three—from yourself, your alter ego, or a fictitious friend. We’ll have winners for categories like Most Pathetic, Most Appealing, Best Catch, Biggest Trainwreck… I don’t know, we’ll make it up as we go along.

Just write something and submit it in the Comments section below.
It’s easy!

For those of you who stumble over your words, here’s a nifty online tool to help. My Profile Writer can generate a clever headline and guide you through the writing process. Think Mad Libs for personal ads. Get to it! (Just keep it PG-13. This is TinyTown, after all.)

My Profile Writer
http://www.myprofilewriter.com/form_me.php

p.s. We'll be sharing personal ads throughout February on our Facebook fan page. If you haven't signed up yet, now's the time!

by Sally Sisson (Sally can be reached at: sallysisson.com)

Top 10 Predictions for 2010.

For the past few weeks, TinyTown has been for a quiet. In fact, you could almost say that it was deader than “The King of Pop”. Oh sure, there were a few roadside holiday parties – the abandoned Goldschläger Cinnamon Schnapps bottles and trash bags filled with empty Narragansett cans, offer undeniable proof.

For you see, during the Christmas holidays, a majority of the town’s inhabitants travel north for skiing, partying, and resting fireside at the lodge – with their next door neighbors and best pals – from TinyTown.

For those that stayed behind, winter left a healthy blanket of snow that was replenished on a regular basis throughout the past week and a half. The winter high tides were a bit higher than usual. There were many times during the week, that waterfront streets were totally submerged in sea water.

Even more prevalent, were the knuckleheads, that insisted upon driving through the knee-deep, salt water. A common remark by roadside by-standers (especially those who had once owned a rusted-out, circa-1970’s Maverick, Pinto or Vega) was, “Lord God, I hope that car is leased!”

Well, it’s Monday morning and time to get the virtual presses of the Tiny Mind Gazette up and running. In our weekly editorial meeting, we decided that it might be a good time to announce our predictions for the coming year. These are our top 10:

1. The abandoned and most likely haunted hardware store will be torn down and replaced with a Lululemon Superstore & Pilates Rehabilitation Center.


2. Miniature Invisibines® will be made mandatory for all gasoline burning urban assault vehicles that seat more than six passengers. 


3. For these same vehicles, it will no longer be mandatory for the vehicle operator to engage in cell phone conversations while navigating the village’s narrow and winding streets. However, it will still be necessary to drive with a small designer dog on your lap. Reading a newspaper or ingesting snacks is also encouraged.


4. Upon awakening from hibernation, a pack of greyotes will encircle the town’s pet grooming studio, taunting the exiting newly-coiffed Labberdoodles, Cocker-huahua and Arubanese Rescue Collies. The town’s Animal Control Officer will be alerted and forced to leave his command post at the Red Ly’n Inn.


5. All of the town center’s commercial and retail businesses will be packed-up and moved to the Independence Hall, mini-mall that has been built next to the commuter rail station.


6. The town center’s abandoned buildings will be torn down to provide additional parking for the newly expanded Lululemon World Theme Park, the Lululemon Pilates Rehabilitation Center – as well as the soon-to-be-founded, American Center for Chardonnay Studies. 


7. The commissioner of the town’s Miniature League Baseball Association will organize a coup d'etat – overthrowing the town government and enacting military rule. Lights will be added to the TinyTown baseball triplex – making 24x7, youth baseball a reality.


8. Donning pitchforks and lighted torches, inhabitants of homes surrounding the baseball triplex will take to the streets – bringing down the horrible MLBA regime. The disgraced commissioner will be forced into exile. Donkeyball will be named the official town sport.


9. All of the town’s naturally growing grass and foliage will be replaced by artificial turf.


10. The Tiny Mind Gazette will receive a Lilly Pulitzer Prize for both excellence in journalism and fashion commentary.

Happy 2010! Hang in there!

TINY MIND Internal Memo: Office Holiday Party 2009 Etiquette

FOR INTERNAL DISTRIBUTION ONLY. NOT TO BE PUBLISHED!

For many of you, this is your first Holiday party at the company, and we certainly hope it won’t be your last, so our president wisely asked me to pass on these few notes to make sure no one embarrasses himself or herself during this festive event. (One study showed that up to 93% of employees in some companies lose their jobs over holiday party “incidents.” Some 11% do find them the next Monday, but many wish they hadn’t.)

The Boss says: “We want to keep you safe, keep you happy, and keep you here.”

ALCOHOL: There will be alcohol. Enjoy it responsibly. But do not use it to “hydrate.”

MUSIC APPRECIATION: The Boss will be playing the piano. He’s quite accomplished, and this music is his holiday “gift” to the company. However, a $1 tip is adequate and appreciated; $5 if you make a special request. It is impolite to request him to “stop playing those damn show tunes.” Also, if the Boss asks you to accompany him, do not sit on his lap, but sit next to him on the piano bench.

FOOD: With the passed hors d’ouevres, the procedure is to take one, and a napkin. Do not take the tray from the server, as this is a “shared” item, not delivered specifically to you.

Do not bring baggies to the party for “take out.” This is an eat-in party. (Same goes for nalgene bottles at the bar.)

It is best not to make “sandwiches” from nachos. They tend to split and splash and ruin the beautiful expensive shirt your beloved bought you a month ago and positively wreak havoc on what should be a lovely Friday evening at home after the party and instead turns out to be a hellish nightmare of recriminations of why you spoil everything good and suck the life out of the most joyous time of year by your slovenly habits and total disregard for the commonsensical behaviors of even the MOST PRIMITIVE MEMBERS of the HUMAN RACE—you ID-I-OT!!!!!  So we suggest going with the single-dip-and-bite method.

ALCOHOL:  Sip responsibly. Do not speak while sipping. Practice speaking silently before speaking aloud. If you cannot pronounce simple words in your head, such as your name, put the glass down and request a cab home.

SALUTATIONS: We call it a Holiday party to be inclusive,  but it is fine to say “Merry Christmas,” “Happy Hanukkah,” “Joyous Kwanzaa,” or even “Rapturous Festivus.” But do not say, “Wow, you could definitely play Santa!” Or “I finished all my shopping already! How about you?” Don’t say those things. Really.

MUSIC PERFORMANCE: If you decide to sing Christmas carols, make sure you are singing the same one as everyone else. At the same speed. Within at least two keys of the leader. Do not affect the style of a lounge singer unless you have a sequined gown, or a sequined jacket.

ATTIRE: If you have either a sequined gown or sequined jacket, please do not come to the party.

ALCOHOL: Try not to burst into tears for no apparent reason. The reason Lee never kissed you in 4^th grade had nothing to do with that haircut. Trust us.

MISTLETOE: The practice of “honoring” a sprig of mistletoe is a completely OPTIONAL act, not a requirement. Except if you see me standing under one, or simply holding one over his head. In that case, it is important to cheer me up, tell me I am “a valuable and loved member of society,” and “a shirt can always be replaced,” and “maybe a kiss will make you feel better.”

ATTIRE: when you arrive, carefully observe your shirt, pants, skirt, blouse, jacket, and or suit. When you leave, try to remember if they are the same. If not, check out Frankie in shipping.

ALCOHOL: Do not pull a barstool up to the bar. It’s not that kind of bar. Do not start pouring out your life’s tragedies to the bartenders. They are just local student temps and have their own angst over exams, and love, and the meaning-of-life and truly: they don’t really don’t care about you. Do not yell out “Drinks for everyone! On me!” We have tried this four  five years in a row, and apparently it is still not funny.

CO-WORKERS:  If you are standing close to anyone who shouts, “Hey, watch this!” do everything in your power to stop them.  (Sales reps on bungie cords, and department managers bowling with punch bowls, are just not holiday entertainment.)

FUN: Remember, this is an office party. So have fun. (All things considered, raises can always be rescinded; what seems hilarious and entertaining in your mind may not look hilarious as you dance “like Beyonce;” accounting jokes are really only funny to accountants; and most important of all: if you wouldn’t say it or do it any other day, why would you say it or do it NOW?)

So now that you are totally clued in, enjoy. We hope to see you again Monday. Really. Maybe in a nice clean shirt.   – J. DiCocco