"They Call Me Naughty Lola"

A compendium of Personal Ads from the London Review of Books make up this funny little book, edited by David Rose and put out by Scribner. Apparently, they must put something in the water over there. Forthwith, a sampling:

This is the first time in my life I've appeared in any font other than Courier New. That's because my best work is still in my head, as are my years of financial stability, my buff physique, the respect of my peers, and my ability to trim sea bass. What were you expecting - Saul Bellow? Man, 34. Takes what he can get, as will you. Box no. 1763.

I like my women the way I like my kebab. Found by surprise after a drunken night out and covered in too much tahini. Before long I'll have discarded you on the pavement of life, but until then you're the perfect complement to a perfect evening. Man, 32. Rarely produces winning metaphors. Box no. 5632.

Your place or your other place? Woman, 32, needful of the finer things in life seeks stinking-rich bloke, 80 to 100. Must be willing to fibrillate his ventricles when he becomes tiresome or bankrupt or both. Also interesting thirty-somethings for illicit and immoral affair to be conducted concurrently with the above. Box no. 1597.

Reply to this advert, then together we can face the harsh realities of my second mortgage. M, 38, WLTM woman to 70 with active credit cards. Box no. 8624.