Someone needs to tell Sinead O’Connor about Craigslist.
The Irish singer has taken to the web to publicly express her hankering for … well, let’s just call it intimacy. In a post last week on her blog, entitled “Is Sinead About to Hump Her Truck?” O’Connor spoke openly about her desire for some male companionship. (O’Connor came out a lesbian a few years back; sexuality can be surprisingly fluid!)
(All [sic].)
My sh*t-uation sexually/affectionately speaking is so dire that inanimate objects are starting to look good as are inappropriate and/or unavailable men and/or inappropriate and/or unavailable fruits and vegetables.
…Needless to say what I do for a living makes it hard for me to find men that only want me cuz they like my (legendary) arse. Yet I am in the peak of my sexual prime and way too lovely to be living like a nun. and it’s VERY depressing.
Think you’ve got what it takes? O’Connor’s list of dealbreakers and dealmakers:
He must be no younger than 44.
Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog.
Must not be named Brian or Nigel.
Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous.
Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply.
Leather trouser- wearing gardai [Irish police], fire-men, rugby players, and Robert Downey-Junior will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies.
I like me a hairy man so buffed and/or waxed need not apply.
No hair gel.
No hair dryer use.
No hair dye
Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me.
No after shave.
Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam.
Must be wham-bam.
Has to like his mother.
Has to like his ex and or mother/s of his children.
Has to live in own place.
That’s not that hard. We know a bunch of dudes who apply! But we think Sinead needs to work on her self-esteem a little bit. No more putting yourself down, lady!
UPDATE: It looks like it’s worked!
I’m supposed to write a follow-up to last week’s plea for a man, not a yam, but I’m so inundated with offers that I’m holed-up (sorry) in Planet Of The Apes, the only beauty parlour which will take me, and even then only round the back door in the middle of the night, but then I like a bit of that now and then don’t I?
OK, so the self-esteem thing might be fixed, but now it’s time to explain to Sinead the concept of TMI.
