A lot of people do a lot of weird stuff on the internet, and ground zero for commercial e-weirdness is Craigslist. In Declassified, Torontoist combs over our city’s listings to find the best (and worst) of the bunch.
Fruitcake eh? You just can’t get rid of that stuff! Illustration by Roxanne Ignatius/Torontoist.
Things Torontoist will herein declassify: the metaphysical mysteries of fruitcake, the limits of bromance, the fellowship of Elvish translators, and dickheads who make fun of fat people.
Fruitcake for Sale, Free O.B.O.
Ragging on fruitcake is pretty old hat. You know, the kind of joke you dust off around Christmas just to fill the conversational gulfs that stretch out over your family dinner table. But this guy is on to something pretty interesting. “There is only one fruitcake in the world,” it says. Fascinating. Does this mean that all fruitcakes are the same? That there is only one grand, Platonic Fruitcake, of which all fruitcakes are mere shades? Maybe all of us have one big soul that everybody’s a part of, all faces the same person. Is there an avenging power in nature? Not one power, but two? Why are there even things? Who’d have thought a rubbery bit of fruit cake would be so suggestive?
Don’t Shoot the Massager, Bro
These are some of the best Craigslist personals. “Strictly platonic,” right? It’s the way people like this slow-play their intentions that makes these posts so artful. Because at first, even though the idea of going to a hotel to get room service and watch a movie and generally bro-out (or is it bro-down?) with some bro you’ve never met before may seem odd, or insane, it’s still understandable. Maybe you’re lonely and your bro-quotient has been down for a while. Maybe you just need some bro time with another bro to get you back on your feet, bro. We get it, bro, We get it. But bromance, strictly speaking, has boundaries. And “trading massages” seems firmly on the other side of the line we bros draw in the sand. Have you ever seen any guys in a Judd Apatow movie exchange massages? And anyways, a massage seems way more intimate than something like a meat-and-potatoes handjob. So just ask for the handjob, bro. It’d be less creepy, in a way.
Thank You (Fahelppinme Find My Elf Again)
Here’s a tricky one. Some kid in York region needs help translating The Silmarillion from its original Elvish for his New Age home-school Independent Study Project. Or he—we’re assuming it’s a man because, well, yeah—needs a hand translating some lovelorn sonnet written for a non-playable character in World of Warcraft. Or he met an actual elf and can’t communicate with it (and isn’t even sure if it speaks Qenya or Sindarin). We’re a bit hung up on the problem that someone who wants to translate Elvish can’t speak Elvish. You’d think it would go hand-in-hand, no? In any event, if you are fluent in Elvish (as we’re sure plenty of our readers are), help this guy out.
Shut Up, Wiseass
We’re entering the dark corners of Craigslist here, ladies and gents. Believe it or not, some people are so lonely and mean-spirited that they use the Missed Connections not to actually reach out to a Missed Connection, but to make fun of some stranger. Like this one. You’re making fun of someone for being fat and eating at Arby’s? You’re eating at Arby’s! What’re you going to do, send the link to your friend(s) and brag about how you really cut this person with whom you have no connection down to size? Good for you. And what, someone looks “ravenous” eyeballing the menu at Arby’s? Can you blame them? Four beef-and-cheddars for five bucks is a fantastic bargain, any way you cut it. Forget you, pal. We’re going to Arby’s.
Find listings we should include in our next edition? Email them to [email protected].