The List

Personals: Missed Connections




Love was in the air this week, and Cupid’s arrows flew. Last year LEMUR presented Valentine’s Day personal ads from several newspapers around the DC and the Marvel Universes. This year, we take a look at those who are still paying for personal ads after Valentine’s Day. Specifically, this year we’re looking at those fateful missed connections.

You, 5’4″ leggy brunette female in yellow floral sundress (no panties) and hat on 5th Ave @ Rockerfeller Plaza. Me, 0.2″ male in red spandex with chrome helmet, riding an ant. Would much rather ride you all night long. Find me at Avengers’ Mansion. Ask for Goliath.

Sorry About That Lab Accident!

Me, 20-something graduate student with punctuality issues.
You, a co-ed caught in a radiation accident, which may or may not have
caused a hideous mutation.
Come on back.  We can work it out.

Say Cheese!

Maybe you caught yourself on the front page of the Daily Planet this
morning?  Superman was fighting The Parasite on Broadway and you were
in the crowd.  You were also the reason Superman looked slightly
diffused, because my focus was on you.  If you dig guys in bow ties,
call the Planet and ask for Jimmy.

It wasn’t all about the Benjamins!

You, 40 something Hugo Boss loan officer with an air of defiance. Me, a perfect Ten. Noticed you across the bank as the Royal Flush Gang made a substantial withdrawal from the Star City Savings and Loan. I was impressed that you didn’t soil yourself like the other guys. Would like to get to know you over coffee.

Let Kupid take A.I.M.

You were a temp doing clerical work for my “company” during the week of Jan. 10th. I was always too busy to chat, what with the running the place and doing giant-head-in-floating-chair-things. Still, I couldn’t help notice you and the way you filled out that yellow jumpsuit. Don’t be intimidated, I’m a Mental Organism Designed Only for Kommitment!

Love Train Thrown off Track.

Hey, we were both on the B Line headed to the city when Doctor Octopus derailed the train. You were reading Anna Karenina through your cat-eye glasses, and I was wearing the pinstriped trouser and black vest. Our eyes met the moment before Spidey crashed through the windows. Am I wrong to think there was some chemistry? Call me: KL5-4796

You Will Be DOOM’s

DOOM saw you from his box at an Off-Broadway performance of The
Fountainhead and almost had you kidnapped.  You appear to be of the
appropriate Eastern European descent and were wearing a lovely
sweater.  You are interested in DOOM.  Call 7|425-2737 or risk the
wrath of Latveria’s monarch.

Feetal’s Gizz!

If you had been on my home planet I wouldn’t have killed them all.
Just before I punched Superman through your building I saw you were
playing solitaire.  I guess they declared your floor off-limits cause
I haven’t seen you there for the last 3 weeks (I been flying outside
waiting).  If you’re cool with space dolphins and don’t freak out if
my dog watches while we do it.  Email me and we can play solitaire

I’ll fix the mess he made of your life

You: Disheveled crying red-head leaving hurriedly from stately Wayne Manor. Me: the fellow giving instructions and money to the taxi driver. There was a spark and time stopped as I helped you into the cab. I know you felt it too. Let’s get to know each other better; you’ll see the advantage of a “gentleman’s gentleman.” Call Wayne Manor and ask for Alfred.

We make a good team

I was the guy with the flamingo shaped weapon, and you were the gorgeous wielder of the kiwi grenades as we helped the Penguin rob the Ornithological Society Ball. Working the crowd with you was like a seductive dance: sexual poetry. I wanted to ask you to dinner after we split the loot, but I was too chicken, and you ducked out. Let’s build a nest together. If you’re interested meet me at the Iceberg next Tuesday. I’ll have a feather in my cap.


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