November 28, 2006
The Book of Love
“They Call Me Naughty Lola”
Anglophiles and the dating dense, take note: The definitive text on the human condition has arrived.
They Call Me Naughty Lola is a compendium of personals plucked right from the London Review of Books. It’s a spectacle of grim cheer, squandered erudition, bone-dry wit, and the elevation of self-deprecation to an absolute art. Observe:
“Virtually complete male, 63, seeks woman with spares and shed.”
“Meet the new me. Like the old me only less nice after three ads without any sexual intercourse.”
“Don’t let distance come between us. Or metal bars. Or restricted access. Or the magic sweeties that make the night terrors go away. Write now to bubbly (others say ‘Maximum Security,’ but what do they know?) F, 34, before the clowns tell her to do things clowns shouldn’t.”
“My ideal man is a woman. Sorry, mother.”
It’s a brilliant glimpse of love in all its heartbreaking glory, with a laugh around every corner.
Which is to say, a lot like your own courting rituals.
Available online at amazon.com.
