Every time I think I’ve exhausted the supply of rubbish dating ads for the desperate and socially unskilled, I manage to find an unplumbed pocket of the internet where still more lurk, quietly festering. Given the volume of the ads I’ve collected and the lengths to which some people will go for love, I’ve given up trying to predict exactly how many parts this series will have. My conservative estimate is “many”.

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Friendzone-Busting Cologne: The Smell of Virginity.

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Once again, folks, mind control does not equal consent. It’s scary that I have to reiterate this.

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“Can you save your hair clippings next time you get it cut? I want to make felt out of it.”

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If you’re relying on weird puppets to get girls to like you, I think you may have discovered why none of them do.

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His eyes are begging for a swift death.

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Part 1| Part 2| Part 3