If you like Pina Coladas

Is "hooking up" (i.e., whoring around) more or less popular than it's ever been? It seems each generation is shocked, Tom Wolfe-like, to find the generation coming up is as indiscriminate as it was. Perhaps a new coinage gives the impression the same old licentiousness has morphed into a virulent new strain.

The Twin Cities used to have two alternative arts and entertainment weeklies, as they like to call themselves. I confess my favorite section of the old Twin Cities Reader (R.I.P.) was the "Wild Side" classifieds at the back. Long before we tweeted, those were novels in 140 characters or less.

Of course, such transactions have all moved to craigslist, where they flourish. Time was, your reply to a BBW seeking an FWB had to be routed through the paper. Now the market is liquid, buyers meeting sellers with no middleman.

As with many tasks accomplished online, today's ads lack the poetry and drama of yesterday's: We know why we are here. Send a pic and let's cut to the chase. Click. Delete. Click. Reply. Shag. Next.

The London Review of Books has just released "Sexually, I'm More of a Switzerland," a collection of personal ads written by readers who, in the words of the Wall Street Journal, "for years seem to have been locked in a competition to see who can come up with the most self-deprecating, eccentric, romantically heedless self-advertisements." What a welcome hearkening back to what the Guardian calls "clever haikus of longing and desire." (Wish I'd said that.) Among my favorites:

Think of every sexual partner you've ever had. I'm nothing like them. Unless you've ever slept with a bulimic German cellist named Elsa. Elsa: bulimic German cellist (F, 37).

Woman, 38: WLTM man to 40 who doesn't try to high-five her after sex. You know who you are.

OMG! This magazine is the shizz. Seriously, dudes. Awesome! LOL! Classics lecturer (M, 48). Possibly out of his depth with today's youth. KTHX! Box no. 2680.

Straight line. Straight line. Funny line. Sucker punch. Busy man, 36.

BBWM, two left feet but long arms, seeks mates for weekend play. Can host.

Okay, that last one's mine. All serious replies considered.

Ask your doctor

Correspondent Bob Root writes:

I just saw an ad for an acid reflux medicine called Aciphex. Look at that for minute and say it. They pronounced it ass-effects.

The other night during the Fiesta Bowl a pharmaceutical ad came on and after about 30 seconds I began to realize the announcer had been reciting the disclaimer copy for virtually the entire spot (over footage of healthy people making a salad and going for a walk, naturally). I turned up the volume. The disclaimer went on another 15 seconds. I tapped The Missus and said, "This is the longest disclaimer ever." It went on for at least another 30 seconds.

The ratio of disclaimer to actual description and benefits in this ad was around 10:1. The side effects were horrific, everything up to and including the urge to kill and eat your children. No way the problem could be worse than the cure.

The next day I saw a print ad for another new drug, this with a full-page photo of a sad-looking woman sitting on the stairs. The headline mentioned "bipolar depression" (which sounds a lot like "arthritis cataracts," but never mind). The facing page was all small-print disclaimer copy. So were the next two pages, and the two pages after that.

I read through the equally off-putting side effects (excessive urination, confusion, suicidal thoughts, permanent uncontrollable movements of the face and tongue) and thought, perhaps uncharitably: For heaven's sake, for this price have a couple brandy Manhattans and try harder to cheer up.

Right before New Years I went for my first physical in 12 years. The nurse and later the doctor reviewed my forms, looked at me with a puzzled expression, looked at my forms again and asked, somewhat incredulously, "So . . . no medications? You're not taking anything . . . ?"

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Here's a prescription for the five pounds you put on over Christmas: Play hoops at St. John's this weekend. And bring a friend.

Please let me know if you will or will not be playing. We tip off at 8:00 a.m.