Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Alright, Where's the Other Half of the Amulet?

Alright, Where's the Other Half of the Amulet? - 4255 (Denver)
Reply to: pers-jfpme-1101353755@craigslist.org Date: 2009-03-31, 5:21PM MDT

Alright shit-for-brains, I know you’re out there. You know that scarab amulet, the one that seems to missing one half? Guess who has it: me, the person you stole it from. It’s lead me halfway around the world to this stinking little corner of the planet, and I just want to say: give me back the other half. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise.

Ever wonder why you’ve been vomiting an unusually large amount of snakes lately? Yo, right here. Those friends and associates who are turning up as desiccated corpses, as if the very life had been drained away from them? Look no further.

You know, back in my day, women were more respectful. They raised the children, cooked the meals, and occasionally helped out in the harvest if the floodwaters had been especially rich that year. They didn’t go getting advanced degrees, galloping off to the other side of the world, and messing with some perfect stranger’s shit.

Do I have to remind you of what happened to that English chap about eighty years ago? He thought it would be a good idea to break into my house (I didn’t have fourteen-thousand slaves build it so you people could browse through it like you’re at goddamn fucking Walmart, BTW), steal my stuff, and put my body in a museum like I’m some kind of fucking painting. It took ten years to collect all the artifacts he and his team had stolen from me and when I was finished… let’s just say they won’t be sailing on the reed-boat to the pretty lands of West anytime soon, not in the cursed state of hideous un-life I left them in.

So, you can avoid all of that if you just give me the other half of my amulet. I don’t even really like that amulet very much (too much turquoise, if you ask me), but I can’t rest again until it’s back on the shelf with all those jars containing my heart, kidneys, and gallbladder.

Seriously, stealing my stuff? Not cool, man. Not cool.

* Location: Denver
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1101353755

Thursday, March 19, 2009

For the Love of God... (Responses; Need Help Having New Experiences)

XXXXXXX Riley to pers-fqtjg-108.

How much of this is true? You know an aweful lot about things you have never done or been subject to. I am actually quite real. I am twenty seven and well experienced in BULLSHIT! So how much is true and what do you bring to the table? -G

Colin Heintze

I'm very experienced in "bullshit" as well. For a few summers my brother Malachai was sick with the consumption and I had to help to plant the corn crop. Trust me, I was elbow-high in 'bullshit' for nearly a month, fertilizing the soil. this was before all the tacky English wanted to have our furniture and my father decided to make cabinets and yes, tables, for a living. So, I don't know what I can "bring to the table", but when I wasn't sewing or churning butter I did pick up a few tricks from the men-folk, so I can certainly MAKE a table if that's what you mean...

WIlliam XXXXXXXX to pers-fqtjg-108.

Seems like you want to just bust out the gates and live! haha, if you wanna learn about life with a secure man, i can teach you about the world without the non-sense. I can help with the "mind issue" as well. I meditate now can help with "gripping reality and life".
call me, im 20 and athletic, shy and humble. I walk with the light but should suggest i dont know much, cause youll probably be suprised how wonder life can be just from a conversation. give me a call. 303-XXX-XXXX

Colin Heintze to WIlliam

show details 10:15 PM (0 minutes ago)

I'm sorry William, but the strict, isolated, religious upbringing I have suffered under has made me pretty ignorant to a lot of the ways of the outside world. For example, my education (load of crap that it was) told me that sentences in the English language usually follow a "subject, object, verb" structure. I can see from your reply that this was yet another lie. I'm sure a more civilized person would have some clue as to what the fuck you're talking about, but I'm just stumped.

joseph XXXXXXXXXXXX to pers-fqtjg-108.

How deep in do you want to jump?
90 on a bike to start
maybe show you life in side BDSM
I know peopel for prity much any drug you want
I do tattoos and pirecings
the world is open and i'm the door way

Colin Heintze to joseph

All the way, Joe. I'm talking strung-out-on-meth-fifty-dicks-in-my-ass-like-the-tail-of-a-peacock all the way. When I get back, I want to be so unclean that they won't even WANT to baptize me. I figure hepatitis will do the trick - since you're obviously a drug user and tattoo enthusiast, I'm sure you could help me out with that.

XXXXXXXX to pers-fqtjg-108.

Alright rockstar, you seem like you have a good energy, but you also
have an attitude. It's all good tho, it's sexy. But you better be able
to back up that platinum tongue of yours.

If you're the kind of female that dates the guys at the bars who put
on their best polo shirts and go out and stand in their groups of
friends, just looking around, and drinking down enough liquid courage
to come say something stupid to you; then you and I are never going to
work. I love women and I hate girls. You had better love men and hate
little boys.

You need to be able to flow like a rockstar time after time, expand
your mind like your sexual fuse is coming to an end, and be able to
chill like that tool bag ex just walked out the door and you have
nothing left in front of you but freedom, unconstrained pleasure,
Saturday night body-quivering mind-expanding sessions, and Sunday
morning encores.

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then you get 5 cool
points, so good for you. Now all you have to do is decide if I'm a 40
year old, overweight, desperate, video gamer addicted to online
gaming, posing as this magical man who just wrote you this message.!

All I want is what anyone needs... those experiences where the rest of
the world is nothing but a fog, and all you have in front of you is a
time to release all your constraints and frustrations in a night of
intense inhibition release, where you connect on a passionate and intensely
sexual level with someone who can connect with your flowing
and aggressive sexual energy... and then walk away the next morning,
both of us relieved, refreshed, and vibrant. You've got that seduction
tiger in you...

But of course, we need to be cool first

Catch ya soon

Colin Heintze to XXXXXXXX

show details 10:37 PM (-1 minutes ago)

Can you jam a syringe full of ketamine into my clit? Can you videotape it as your friends run a train on me? Will you watch me pee in a bucket through night-vision goggles? No offense, but I'm not looking for "intense inhibition release" as much as utter and complete defilement. I want to bathe in the shit and refuse of modern society. I want to get so dirty I have no choice but to never go back...

XXXXXXXXXXXX to pers-fqtjg-108.

lol I must say, I enjoyed your post, but I am not 100% positive you mean what you say. Let me explain.

I actually know what Rumspringa is which I hope is a plus, but I also know what the world is like. I had my "party days" when I was 16 and honestly, some shit I did I regret horribly. BUT if you want a good time without causing major havoc, hit me up. I'm a movie fiend, and if you haven't had chicken wings yet... we NEED to go. I know the best pizza parlors (not just corporate places but the BEST small places no one knows about). I can present you to a ton of food that I'm sure you've rarely if ever had (depending on your family rules).

Well food is one thing I'm sure you'll enjoy, but there is SO MUCH MORE!!!! movies are great, I'd take you to see Watchmen (its amazing) and even introduce you to this "twilight" phenomenon. If you'd let me, I'd take you to shoot guns at the gun range, its way more fun than people give credit, and take you to a hookah bar. (a form of smoking, tastes GREAT!). Drinking,,, well its over rated, and guaranteed if you choose to do it, you'll throw up and quite possibly end up having sex with the 240lb fat kid that hasn't even seen his own dic in 3 years do to his weight. (believe me... I'm NOT exaggerating this). that is definately NOT a memory you want to have. On a more sexual note, do you really want un satisfying sex?... lol thats what through me for a spin, that is quite a rare request. but if you would consider to have SATISFYING sex, well I can help with that too.

All in all, I'm a chill guy, I'm understanding of where you came from, but I'm NOT going to totally screw your life over. If you want the fun and excitement I'm sure being locked away in a Amish community has made you desire WITHOUT the things that you will possibly regret. Hit me up. I can really show you a GREAT time. oh and one more thing that I'm sure your community will LOVE... lol, I'm hispanic, (not mexican) I'm from Argentina. well here is my pic. If I caught your attention, I hope you email back. I would love to spend time with you. I'm not going to demand a picture back from you, but would appreciate if you could send one.

Colin Heintze to XXXXXXXXXXX.

show details 10:48 PM (-1 minutes ago)

I have mixed feelings about this. Reverend Haag always told me people from Argentina are Catholics, heretics who worship a whore in Rome, and that they take naps in the middle of the day and can't raise a barn for shit cause' their economy is collapsing every five years.

Though, I have to say, the gun thing is pretty sexy. I've never liked my people's insistence on pacifism, and shooting some people would be a real turn-on. Are there any people who wouldn't be missed, like prostitutes or homeless gentlemen we could just go to town on?

Need Help Having New Experiences

Need Help Having New Experiences - 18 (Denver)

Reply to: pers-fqtjg-1082818940@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-03-19, 5:23PM MDT

So, I’m on Rumspringa right now and if being out among the English has taught me anything it’s that growing up in the equivilant of a nineteenth century agricultural commune hasn’t exactly been great for my social life. Just the other day, I met this guy at Starbucks who seemed really nice – handsome, educated, and not my cousin. He wanted me to put my number into his cell phone and I had no idea how to use it. Fuck. Thanks a lot, reverned Ezikeal Haag, I guess I’ll move back to Pennsylvania and have fifteen kids now, you win. Prick.

Anyways, I’m kinda trying to find myself right now. Hey, you know what’s fun? Eating burgers, playing video games, and watching movies. You know what’s not? Having to maintain rigidily enforced silence after sundown backed up by threats of shunning and corporal punishment. Just for once, when I see a group of girls my age talking about something called “The Hills” or “Twilight”, I’d like to be able to offer them more than tips on animal husbandry.

Seriously, it’s Rumspringa and I need to learn more about the world. I’ve already had someone show me how to use the computer (ooooh, scary! I know how to use something that’s not manure!) and want to learn more, all of it. I’ve spent so much of my life sewing quilts that I can’t even make my fingers light a cigarette, if I was even allowed to smoke, which I’m not.

I want someone to show me everything: I want to pursue awkward, unsatisfying sex with perfect strangers because Christ knows when the next time I have the opporunity to do THAT comes along. I want to smoke, drink, ride in cars, snort coke, meet a guy who seems really nice at first but ends up getting me addicted to meth and pimping me out to middle-aged men in a motel room by the interstate… everything. I want some guy to tell me I have “a good look” for movies and end up starring in several amature porno videos, though I’ll be too coked out of my mind to notice and too trusting to think it will ever go any further than that. Anyone, help? Please?

Location: Denver
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1082818940

I Seek a Refined Young Lady

I Seek a Refined Young Lady - 25 (Denver, LeFleur Manor)

Reply to: pers-kypar-1082742329@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-03-19, 4:29PM MDT

Why hello, dear ladies. I am Henry LeFleur, of the Louisiana LeFleurs (not to be confused with the Quebec LeFleurs, whom we have long since disassociated ourselves with after many generations of ungentlemanly miscegeny on their branch of this defunct tree). Sometimes, I believe the creeping vines and Spanish moss that crack and strangle the rotting foundation of LeFleur manor have invaded the very bloodline of our clan. My brother Geoffrey, killed in the war, had political ambitions. He had hoped a spell in the army would give him the thrust to bring the Lefleur family back to the top of the political stage, though his dreams were cut down with a fusillade of German artillery. Mother always said, on that day, a mockingbird cried outside her window, and she knew her boy had passed on. My nephew Beauford was slain during our feud with the Denauve clan, may their bastard blood forever stain the earth. And my dear sister Ethel, to whom I owe for keeping my scandalous secret from father... well, we do not speak of her anymore. She has the attic all to herself and a nice window facing the weeping willows and cypresses of LeFleur Manor. Twice a week a negro woman comes to feed and clean her. We cannot bear to look at her anymore, you see, after father discovered her in a stolen tryst with the Creole boy who cleaned the stables. She had been driven mad when her forbidden love, William Denauve, was shot down by father during the blood-feud. From then on, it is my inclination to believe, she lived only to spite father, escaping her chambers at night to mix with all manner of low-blooded types in bayou grog-halls.

Oh, but how I go on! Allow me to explain the purpose of this here proposal I am extending. My father, at the ripe age of 172, has survived two Union musketballs from the War of Northern Aggression, twelve hurricanes, four duels, and integration. Yet, at last it seems the consumption that has hounded him since the winter of 1908 will finally claim him. It is his wish to see the LeFleur family line continued, a boon I am ashamed to say I am unable grant. For, you see, I have some of the... peculiarities that often accompany Southern men of great refinement. I first became aware of this on the Eve of Good Friday when I was a boy of fourteen. There was a negro boy with whom my father let me spend some time with, though always with a disapproving scowl, the son of one of the maids, I believe. As the manor was awash in revelry, while my family held a gala and the servants danced their jigs in kitchens and pantries, he kissed me beneath the gibbous April moon. Since then, I have never been able to lay eyes on woman for more than a moment, for besides my poor sister and dearly departed mother they fill me with a loathing fierce. So, I have become known as a bachelor and cad, though I suspect father knows the reason behind my refusals of the sundry marriage contracts presented to him by other high-bred families. After all, I am the parish's foremost critic of theatre and art, and my many affectations - from my velvet coat, to the cane swinging at my hip - certainly paint a clear picture of the peculiarities of which I speak.

Can you help me, before father passes into the great unknown, put his heart at ease? All I ask is that you accompany me once to dinner at the manor and help create the impression we are not repulsed by each other. Though the LeFleur fortune has dwindled (since a certain day we lost a great deal of our labor force) to a mere line of credit a name steeped in such veneration commands, we have many antiques and items of historical value I might be willing to part with once my dear father passes.

Location: Denver, LeFleur Manor
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1082742329

Monday, March 9, 2009

RE: Tell Me What Your Fantasies Are

Tell me what your fantasies are === - 25 (Denver area)

Reply to: pers-yqy3q-1066850202@craigslist.org [Date: 2009-03-09, 8:26AM MDT

Wanna meet for a drink and see what happens? Looking to get myself into some trouble! The good kind ya know! ;-) I can be frisky when I want to be and love to have a good time. I'm 5'11", 130lbs, blondish brown hair, brown eyes, athletic build, hot body. You'll never hear me say .. Not tonight I have a headache! LOL.

Location: Denver area
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1066850202

Colin Heintze to pers-yqy3q-106

Well, lately I've had this fantasy that kinda fits in with a series of fantasies I call "The Chronicles of the Witcher". In this last one, I'm walking through Ashley Marsh (only a few miles in the shadow of Mount Chaos from the Hyrda-pits! Eek!) and I come across this friendly salamander man, and he's all wounded I'm all like "hark gentle amphibi-man, what happened thoust?". So he tells me that the mean troll bullies have been making him eat grass in front of the entire village every day after gym class. So I get my witching sword and go to the village, cause' I hate the trolls. All the girls like them cause' they got big muscles and fast steeds but if they really knew what jerks they are, and that they only get such good rides cause their dads own the steed dealership, they'd rather be with guy who will be nice to them. Anyways, I go to the village and beat up all the trolls with the witching sword, and they all say they're sorry and promise to stop making fun of me on Facebook and start picking me during dodge-ball. Then I meet Gorin, king of the kobolds and he gives me the jewel of harking, and I can talk to anyone I want wherever they are. I talk to my mom Queen Valeria and convince her to divorce evil Baron Severnus, and Severnus goes back to Florida to run his stupid propane business that nobody shops at. Then I use the jewel to find my dad, who I don't see really often because Valeria says he's a pilot. Him and Queen Valeria get married again and I move into their castle. A week later, Lady Ashley Klein who sits across from me in alchemy class asks me to marry her and I do and I touch her boob a little bit. She looks at the all the sketches I made of her in class and thinks they're really cool, and we kiss and stuff and all the trolls are really jealous and wish they were nicer to me.

Oh yeah, then I plunge her face into the toilet and brutally sodomize her while she's all like "Ooooh, you're so big, you're so big."

Sunday, March 8, 2009

The Blackwater Fortune is in Peril!

The Blackwater Fortune is in Peril! - 25 (Denver)

Reply to: pers-kgjft-1065892627@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-03-08, 1:27PM MDT

The deadline is rapidly approaching, comely lasses, for which I can marry and claim the remainder of my father's fortune. Allow me to explain, for those of you who have not seen my previous posts.

My name is Anton Kimble Blackwater of the venerable Blackwater family of New England. I am the son of an American rubber magnate and Spanish wet nurse, though let me assure you my life has been anything but privileged. Childhood was a time of diligent instruction and self-improvement, led by the efforts of my late father. My studies ranged from metaphysical tutelage under Hanno of Alexandria to the martial sciences under Karl Von Berstauffen, last Marshall of Prussia. Unfortunately, as a young man, my father was murdered at the hands of my half-brother Cecil, the same villain whose mother, a Creole and practitioner of Hoodoo rites, stole a lock of my father's hair to weave grave sorceries upon him. This unnatural union resulted in Cecil, who not only murdered my beloved sire but has since conscripted every manner of mercenary scum to remove me. The current challenge I am confronting is a hitherto-unknown stipulation in the fine print of my father's will that, If I do not marry by this time next year, the remainder of his holdings will revert to nefarious Cecil. Obviously, I cannot allow this happen. I have survived too many attempts on my life by Yakuza hitmen and Chechen mercenaries to allow Cecil to claim my inheritance through some legal obscuration!

Thus, I need a wife. Man-servant Mandalay says my standards are far too high, that I will never find a woman who is my peer in Tantric meditation, acrobatics, tomb-hunting, or Tagalog knife forms. Though I trust Mandalay's wisdom on all things, I cannot help but be skeptical of this advice: he took vows to Zoroastrian demiurges at age twelve, remaining a virgin in return for prowess in battle. So, his advice concerning the nature of women may be uneducated. Yet, everywhere I look, I find women incapable of performing even the most basic of tasks, such as wielding a sabre or deciphering a Codex incised in Koine Greek! Perhaps when I begin to see returns from the string of silver mines I've recently opened in the Chilean highlands, I will invest more money into public education!

There is another aspect of this overture I am compelled to mention - a more personal one. For, although my father's estate is my chief concern, I also seek a woman for these... yearnings of mine. A life cultivating my spirit and intellect in far-flung monasteries, tribal war rituals, and Hollywood galas has left me little time to pursue relationships. Every time I wake up next to a beautiful young starlet in a Corsican luxury liner, a Brazilian supermodel on a silken mattress, or a comely primatologist on a bed of leaves neath' the fierce sun of the Ugandan highlands, I feel an emptiness in me. For, I am a man and as such must pursue pleasure, though the shame I feel in associating myself with such common riff-raff no doubt has my father in hysterics somewhere in the vaulted chambers of the Blackwater mausoleum. Are you the beautiful academic/mystic/tactician/business magnate I am seeking? If so, reply post-haste! Cecil is already beginning to measure the curtains!

Location: Denver
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1065892627

Thursday, March 5, 2009

RE: Is There an Alpha Male Out There?

Is there an alpha male out there? - 28 (Denver)

Reply to: pers-uekvd-1062088379@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-03-05, 4:02PM MST

A. I highly doubt I'll find the kind of man I'm looking for on here, so if you respond don't waste my time and don't start sniffling when I don't respond.
B. I'm real, it is gorgeous outside and we just look a great news source last week.

I've realized I can only be happy with an alpha male type. I am very strong, independent and confident. Most men think they can handle me and a few fool me for a while, but they eventually show their soft side and I lose interest. If you are a real alpha male type than prove it to me. How do I know you are not a faker?

I do have pics and will send them when I feel comfortable and trust me I am hot enough for you. Slender with curves where you want them.

Bye boys!

Colin Heintze to pers-uekvd-1062088379@craigslist.org

If you want an alpha male, than look no further bitch (get used to me calling you that, by the way). I wear a barbed wire necktie, use live rattlesnakes for condoms, and drive an M1-A1 Abrahm's tank I took from some pussy in the army who was dumb enough to look me in the eyes, which are made of chrome and lightning. I do what I want when I want, and if someone gets in my way I send them crying back to their mother's bosoms, which I proceed to motor-boat in front of them. I've made three of the world's highest mountains my bitch, have invaded Mexico because they made too much noise when I had a hangover, and once killed an entire town because I was stuck waiting at a red light. That's just what you get when you're with a cold-eyed, dominant killer and revolutionary poet like myself: action - hard, fast, and non-consensual.

I once dated this girl who said I am like a cookie; hard on the outside and soft in the middle. This pissed me off so much I sold her into prostitution. I'm more like an onion - you can keep peeling away the layers, but at the end you're left with nothing, you're crying, and you need to wash your hands. Of course, I wouldn't know cause' only pussies eat vegetables, and I eat nothing but the toughest uncooked portions of endangered species I have slain with my bare hands. So, if you think you can handle that, get back to me. If you're good enough, I may allow you to adore me.

K J to me

Lol, that was fucking funny. I like your style, but if you ever call me a bitch again you are going to lose those little pebbles that allow you to breed. Got it sweetie? Good.

Got a pic?

Colin Heintze to K

You know, I like your style too. You have exactly the inflated sense of self worth, obvious inability to form strong emotional bonds, and hard-edged, solipsistic lack of empathy I look for in a woman. As for my balls, as you will soon find out... they are huge. Just one fold of my epic scrotum is enough to wrap a refrigerator for Christmas. My sperm are the size of tadpoles and can survive in only 100 proof whiskey. My pubic hairs are like acupuncture needles, and support an ecosystem of bird and reptile life specific to my mighty groin.

Here's that picture you wanted. Try not to ejaculate all over the keyboard, wouldn't you?

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Seeking a Non-Basque Woman (Or, How to Get Flagged Within Minutes)

Seeking a Non-Basque Woman - 25 (Denver)

Reply to: pers-ebdne-1060671368@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-03-04, 4:41PM MST

Good Afternoon! I'm a fit, attractive, creative man in my mid-twenties who just got out of a relationship and am looking for a change! I'm open to pretty much all shapes, sizes, and types with one notable exception -I absolutely, emphatically will not accept a drop of filthy Basque blood in any potential girlfriend.

Let me explain: ever since I was a child, I have loathed and abhorred that race of stinking demi-humans known as the Basque. Every time I hear their halting, panting, cro-magnon "language" I want to puke my goddamn guts out. I hate their fucking flat faces, sloped foreheads, and greasy sausage lips. I wretch when I smell their foul odor of mutton and tears of their sexually abused children, of which they have many. So, if you have any Basque in you at all (or are uncertain), don't bother reading on you goddamn repulsive troglodyte.

Here's a good Basque joke: what's the difference between a Basque and a putrifying heap of pig's guts? The pig's guts doesn't sodomize its children on their thirteenth birthdays.

Okay, not a really clever joke, but if you are a non-Basque and go out with me I promise I'll have better. It's just hard to joke about those proto-simian abominations from the Pyrennes, ya know? Did you know that in the 50's and 60's a bunch of ranchers (read: race traitors) in Wyoming brought over a bunch of mutton-eating Basque bastards to work as ranch hands? That's right, in only the next state there are smelly Basque "people" trundling over OUR land with their clumsy pacyderm feet, breathing OUR air with their flared, filth-encrusted nostrils, and, oh god, putting their broad, hairy hands and stubby, covetous little fingers over the bosoms of OUR American women. I just threw up a little in my mouth.

So, if you are not a goddamn fucking Basque, don't molest children, don't eat mutton, and have never blown up a train station, I would be delighted to meet you. Dinner, drinks dancing, whatever - I'm very open minded.

Oh, and also no Jews.

Location: Denver
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1060671368

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Dating With Lycanthropy

Dating With Lycanthropy - 25 (Denver)
Reply to: pers-2reab-1059566865@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-03-03, 11:40PM MST

Hi there, everybody.

I've seen a lot of ads here for people with herpes trying to find others, so I thought I'd take the one in a million shot on the internet hoping I'd find a woman who shares my condition.

It started, I suppose, how these things usually do. I was a tourist in Montenegro, wrapping up the last leg of my post-college European tour. My friend Geoff and I had been to all the usual touristy places - the Eiffel Tower in Paris, the Spanish Steps in Rome, the beer halls in Munich - and with only two weeks left we found these cookie-cutter tourist experience had not shown us anything of the REAL Europe. We were trying to find ourselves, though what we found... I don't know if I can go on.

On a whim, Geoff and I decided to visit the Balkans region to find some semblance of genuine European culture. We quickly found Montenegro crassly commercial, and decided to backpack to the most remote part of the map in hopes of drawing some genuine experience from our journey. In hindsight, we should have listened to the warnings of the old gypsy palm reader. The region had been plagued with mass disappearances for decades, blamed mostly on the wars or roving bands of Chetnik militia. Geoff and I paid no heed, even when we were treated with scowls from the inhospitable and superstitious peasantry of the region.

Then, one night laying beneath the stars, we heard a rustling in the woods. Geoff got up to investigate and... my god, I still can't forget the shrieks in the night and tearing, dripping sounds from the treeline. I ran as fast as I could, but did not make it far - a panting, burly thing tackled me from behind and bit savagely into my shoulder. Had I known then what I was in store for, I might not have shot the flaregun into it's frothing, snarling face, thus frightening it away into the night from whence it came.

I picked myself up and dragged myself to the nearest settlement, where the villagers ran screaming from me, shut their doors, and closed their shudders. Bewildered, a wandered the roads until a visiting British dignitary found me and drove me to hospital. This is where I experienced the first symptom of my condition, for upon arriving at the medic's office my wounds had healed completely, despite being near-fatal injuries only the night before. My story was regarded skeptically, and I was accused of being on drugs - when the doctor even suggested that I had murdered Geoff, I leapt through the window and fled, surprised at my newfound agility and speed.

So, if you have a similar story, please contact me. I'm sick of waking up naked every morning after a full moon next to a heap of carnage and praying, "God, let it just be a deer this time". I'm tired of never having a relationship for fear one night I will savagely maul my lover in a frenzy of bestial rage. Most of all, I'm sick of having to pull handfulls of hair out of the drain every morning.

* Location: Denver
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1059566865