Boston Craigslist or Austin Craigslist?

I'm not sure why it bothered me so much when I clicked open my email inbox and saw the note. "Your post has been flagged as inappropriate."

This is how Craigslist informs you when you've been a little too off-putting for some tastes at the internet's premiere bulletin board. Which, if you've read the "best of" section, you have to realize is a remarkable feat.

And I've done it twice! By posting some of my Associated Content articles.

Now, I'm not going to be sneaky here, I intentionally picked articles to submit that I thought would get some attention. And within that rabble of fetish confessions, brazil wax anecdotes and odes to nitwits and dipshits, I expected a fair amount of anonymity, to be honest. I mean, for chrissakes, I logged on last night and found pictures of a pink, upholstered vagina couch, complete with a clitoris as a pillow. Craigslist junkies could handle some meager little instructional articles, I was pretty sure.

The owner wanted $600 for that couch, by the way.

The website also includes its own sensitivity disclaimer:

"Craigslist does not control, and is not responsible for Content made available through the Service, and that by using the Service, you may be exposed to Content that is offensive, indecent, inaccurate, misleading, or otherwise objectionable."

So imagine my surprise when the notice of my second flagging showed up in my inbox. I might have expected this if I'd posted my "Vinegar: The Domestic Wonder Fluid" article at, say, the Topeka, Kansas Craigslist. I could see some of the upstanding folks in America's breadbasket finding my presentation a little objectionable as I titled the post, "What to do if you suspect your husband of cheating."

Once you opened the post, you would then find a link that simply read:

Rub vinegar under his ball sack.

But I didn't post it at the Topeka Craigslist. I posted it at Boston's. A city in which you might hear filthier things come out of parishioners on their exit from the Cathedral of the Holy Cross. And a city, which anyway, surely includes itself among the "we've seen everything" hierarchy of American metropolitan areas.