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Famous (and Possibly Deceased) Artist Personal Ads

I AM LOOKING FOR: ALL I REALLY NEED IS LOVE FEAR IS STRONGER THAN LOVE CONQUERS ALL SEES NO FLAWS WILL FIND A WAY NEVER GROWS OLD IS BLIND MAKES THE WORLD GO ROUND

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Gaunt, awkward New Jersey native seeks unattached video artist for mutually beneficial partnership. Join me for long walks by the mud, salt crystals, rocks, water, salt, and on the occasional rock-collecting trip. Interests include: dinosaurs and ice.  Must be willing to travel in spite of imperfect measuring systems. Experience with helicopters and dump trucks a big plus. Just looking for someone to stroll with around the infinite spiral or just while away these days of unchecked and inevitable entropy of the uncanny materialism of geological time. Meet me by the quarry just up the road from the turnpike on the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel. Bring your chisel and periodic table if you’d like to get elemental with me.

Elegant but aging Japanese-American woman seeks dedicated company and a little hero worship. I am a woman of the fire, of the music, of the sacred curly zen tree. I am a wild woman. I lie on John Cage’s piano, and I break up pop groups. But you will not regret your time with me. I will give you a box of smile, if you want one. We can sit up on the Imagine Peace Tower in Iceland and I will tell you about times when you weren’t yet born. I may even invite you into another Bed-In for Peace, where we can invite the general public to cut away my clothes. Call 1800 YOKO ONO and sing me a silent song, if you dare.

Spunky, combative English Sexpot seeks large numbers of men to add to her illustrious tent list. I enjoy long, inebriated nights, and beds full of tissues, dried out mascara bottles, cocaine baggies, and sweat patches. I have a much loved c*nt, so you will be a lucky fellow if I let you in on the game. Everyone wants a piece of me—even Elton John and George Michael, which is a bit bizarre, but these days I can sell my sh*t for £50,000. We can wallow in my quilts, ash our fags on them, talk about my aborted babies and whine about how I should have won the Turner. If this sounds like your sort of party, meet me at Margate and we can roll around on the concrete and declare everyone to be f*cking tossers and wankers.

Midwestern transplant and Korean War Veteran seeks rigorous, opinionated or at least interesting partner. Come share in mutual disdain for almost everything and everyone still beholden to European criteria or other false and hierarchical constructs. Strong interest in inanimate objects a huge plus. Must be OK with softness and hardness—so long as specificity of form is retained. Turn-ons: all things empirically derived, exceedingly hard, singular, flaccid, polarized and breast-like, including light switches, profound forms, ice cream cones and hamburgers. Turn-offs include: relational parts, Cartesian bullshit, generalizations, and the federal government. Let us shed the a priori and Manhattan, move to the high desert and fumble around in the dark for the soft switches or other specific objects and aggregate mutually driven non-self-contained un-bracketed passages of experience.

Slightly balding, heavy smoking, fast talking Brooklynite seeks young, willing, able, flexible, virile girl to squeeze inside a box and enter into my association area. Must be open to a potentially successful sex change, sharing, concrete poetry,  having your eyes pried open and generally being threatened. Looking for someone interested in somewhat humorous onanistic activities and recording devices. Tolerance of lengthy trance-like states is an absolute must. Willing to compete in feats of strength and agility and bite myself (if necessary) to prove my worth and existence to you broads—you can read me like an open book. I can be a bit territorial, so if you plan on two-timing me you’d better hide my crowbar… or if you’re into that kind of thing grab a blindfold and let’s see what happens.  Meet at Pier 7 in the late evening, come alone and don’t be scared—I’ll be there for you. Or just come over to my apartment sometime and we can smoke cigarettes, listen to The Doors on my sweet hi-fi, read some Mickey Spillane aloud and help each other define our bodies in space. Or maybe I’ll find you underneath my kitchen table touching my legs.

Beautiful Cuban-American woman with an ambiguous relationship to Santería seeks companionship and protection from possibly dangerous husband whose obsession with the serial repetition of identical industrial forms should be criminal. Enjoys long walks in nature that end with digging bodily forms in the grass or playing dead in ponds. Also likes to paint walls with blood in the nude. Really just open to doing almost anything naked that includes fire, mud, ash, or bodily fluids. Must enjoy exchanging and attaching each other’s body hair—mustaches are my favorite. What are yours?

I AM LOOKING FOR: ALL I REALLY NEED IS LOVE FEAR IS STRONGER THAN LOVE CONQUERS ALL SEES NO FLAWS WILL FIND A WAY NEVER GROWS OLD IS BLIND MAKES THE WORLD GO ROUND….THE LOVE OF MONEY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL MAKES EVERYTHING LOVELY……EVERY BIRD LOVES TO HEAR HIMSELF SING LOVE YOUR ENEMIES…..WITH A FACE ONLY A MOTHER COULD LOVE

Looking for bud for non-homo J/O. I get off surfing the web for pics of hot babes, especially into ass…I bookmark the best pics, then j/o to them, looking for a skinny young bud that could get off on same scene and j/o together SWM, forty-six, five-ten, 192, stocky and well built, hairy, regular Joe except for bustling art career, DDF, you be too. For mutual J/O, massage, etc. but possibility to wind up on film.

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