They were a world all their own in the days before Craiglist and Grindr and Scruff.
I remember when you had to run print ones in newspapers and magazines, and there was this elaborate procedure involving ad numbers and passwords for calling in to see if you got any messages. If you wanted a picture, you were prepared to pay for it, handsomely.
And close to the personal sections there were so many of those 1-800 numbers like “The Leather Line” advertised where you could get a person, I guess, if you didn't want to wait for a response. That was as close to immediate gratification you could get in those days without leaving the house to try and find a hook up at a bar.
Before that technology developed, you had to rely on the mail. Ads apparently first went to a box number and eventually they got to your address in plain brown envelopes to ensure confidentiality, which for many years was essential before it was safe for gays to be out. Here's one from the 1960s that appeared in Grecian Guild Pictorial. Note the language has to be rather coded; in fact, you couldn't even say top or bottom, or cocksucking and fucking. You had to use terms like Greek or French, cite interests like nude sunbathing or bodybuilding. Your readers would get the hint:
It was really an event running an ad because of the cost and time involved. An event, and this famous porn star made his ad not just an event, but an explosion of sex on the page. Legendary porn star/director Fred Halsted, known for his smoldering portrayals of dominant sexuality, certainly knew how to use the print medium in the 1970s:
Makes some of the Recon guys look rather run of the mill!
It's so easy now to post a pic, type in some text, and voila, you're out there. And with apps like Grindr and Scruff, in one minute you could be passe.
Only the bizarre ads seem to go viral. The really bizarre ones, like this one. Oh, such a letdown after the hotness of the last one: