David Rose (1) (1973–)
Autor von They Call Me Naughty Lola: Personal Ads from the London Review of Books
Andere Autoren mit dem Namen David Rose findest Du auf der Unterscheidungs-Seite.
Über den Autor
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Reihen
Werke von David Rose
They Call Me Naughty Lola: Personal Ads from the London Review of Books (2006) — Herausgeber — 404 Exemplare
Sexually, I'm More of a Switzerland: More Personal Ads from the London Review of Books (2010) — Herausgeber — 132 Exemplare
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Getagged
Wissenswertes
- Andere Namen
- ROSE, David
- Geburtstag
- 1973
- Geschlecht
- male
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Rezensionen
The Goodreads Lonely Hearts Column
A man walks into a bookshop. Plucking up his courage he asks the lady behind the till for a date. She says sorry, we don't sell fruit here. That's funny, right? Right?! I'm funny, right? M, 54, seeks F with convincing fake laugh to reassure him of an evening. Box no. 0002.
A (different) man walks into (the same) bookshop. Fancying a good belly laugh he picks up a collection of bizarre entries to the world's most intelligent lonely hearts column. M, 27, found dry amusement but still seeks book to make his belly laugh. Box no. 0003.
I'm seeking my antiderivative, so I can lay tangent to your curves. Smooth M, 43, seeks continuously differentiable F to 40, or on the whole real line. Box no. 0005.
I like the footnotes. David Rose has clearly had fun with them. They're often played straight, pointing out the numerous esoteric cultural references used by the advertisers. Then, out of left field, he'll “helpfully” define some passing comment about “the Train of the Damned” as possibly referring to a particular Virgin Train line, “which is shit.” M, 27, was seeking the Caversham branch of Waitrose, but that's in a footnote too. Box no. 0007.
Roses are red, violets are blue, Asclepias tuberosa are orange. M, 31, seeks F who knows a good rhyme for orange. Respondents can expect an awesome poem about flowers in return. Box no. 0011.
See appendix, says one of the footnotes attached to the phrase “Former Miss World.” Really? I thought. Really. There's a list of all the previous winners of Miss World along with any interesting trivia about that contestant or that year's competition. It's surprisingly intriguing. M, 27, probably won't seek book about the Miss World competition. That'd probably not help find a F. Box no. 0013.… (mehr)
A man walks into a bookshop. Plucking up his courage he asks the lady behind the till for a date. She says sorry, we don't sell fruit here. That's funny, right? Right?! I'm funny, right? M, 54, seeks F with convincing fake laugh to reassure him of an evening. Box no. 0002.
A (different) man walks into (the same) bookshop. Fancying a good belly laugh he picks up a collection of bizarre entries to the world's most intelligent lonely hearts column. M, 27, found dry amusement but still seeks book to make his belly laugh. Box no. 0003.
I'm seeking my antiderivative, so I can lay tangent to your curves. Smooth M, 43, seeks continuously differentiable F to 40, or on the whole real line. Box no. 0005.
I like the footnotes. David Rose has clearly had fun with them. They're often played straight, pointing out the numerous esoteric cultural references used by the advertisers. Then, out of left field, he'll “helpfully” define some passing comment about “the Train of the Damned” as possibly referring to a particular Virgin Train line, “which is shit.” M, 27, was seeking the Caversham branch of Waitrose, but that's in a footnote too. Box no. 0007.
Roses are red, violets are blue, Asclepias tuberosa are orange. M, 31, seeks F who knows a good rhyme for orange. Respondents can expect an awesome poem about flowers in return. Box no. 0011.
See appendix, says one of the footnotes attached to the phrase “Former Miss World.” Really? I thought. Really. There's a list of all the previous winners of Miss World along with any interesting trivia about that contestant or that year's competition. It's surprisingly intriguing. M, 27, probably won't seek book about the Miss World competition. That'd probably not help find a F. Box no. 0013.… (mehr)
These are personal ads looking for love or companionship placed by the erudite readers of the London Review of Books. I found it absolutely hilarious. Best taken in small doses, this might make a suitable book for the loo when you have time to cheer your lonely heart.
A collection of often hilarious personal ads from the "London Review of Books"; I don't know if I would answer any of the ads but it's intriguing to wonder how the hook ups would have turned out. Lots of good examples and seemingly a lot of men in their thirties still living with their mothers, and if none of the ads take your fancy, "They call me naughty Lola"'s index also contains a good biography of Evel Kneivel.
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A man walks into a bookshop. Plucking up his courage he asks the lady behind the till for a date. She says sorry, we don't sell fruit here. That's funny, right? Right?! I'm funny, right? M, 54, seeks F with convincing fake laugh to reassure him of an evening. Box no. 0002.
A (different) man walks into (the same) bookshop. Fancying a good belly laugh he picks up a collection of bizarre entries to the world's most intelligent lonely hearts column. M, 27, found dry amusement but still seeks book to make his belly laugh. Box no. 0003.
I'm seeking my antiderivative, so I can lay tangent to your curves. Smooth M, 43, seeks continuously differentiable F to 40, or on the whole real line. Box no. 0005.
I like the footnotes. David Rose has clearly had fun with them. They're often played straight, pointing out the numerous esoteric cultural references used by the advertisers. Then, out of left field, he'll “helpfully” define some passing comment about “the Train of the Damned” as possibly referring to a particular Virgin Train line, “which is shit.” M, 27, was seeking the Caversham branch of Waitrose, but that's in a footnote too. Box no. 0007.
Roses are red, violets are blue, Asclepias tuberosa are orange. M, 31, seeks F who knows a good rhyme for orange. Respondents can expect an awesome poem about flowers in return. Box no. 0011.
See appendix, says one of the footnotes attached to the phrase “Former Miss World.” Really? I thought. Really. There's a list of all the previous winners of Miss World along with any interesting trivia about that contestant or that year's competition. It's surprisingly intriguing. M, 27, probably won't seek book about the Miss World competition. That'd probably not help find a F. Box no. 0013.… (mehr)