There’s this rather foul old aristocratic trot in Britishland who, at age 69, has declared that she has no interest in making whoopee with a man her own age, but would be quite willing to do the nasty with someone close to half that.
Granted, she was quite a looker in her heyday (around the time of the Normandy landings, that is):
…but alas, she is no fine French wine and has not aged well at all. Like most once-beautiful women, she’s carried the arrogance of beauty way past its sell-by date and now she’s just pathetic.
I have to ask myself a few things: firstly, what kind of 35-year-old man would even consider paging through the wrinkles to find her rather cobwebby Garden Of Delight; secondly, what narcissism allows her to think that she could set that demand and have it fulfilled, and thirdly, why doesn’t she get called a “dirty old devil” as an old man most certainly would if he announced that he was only only interested in jumping a college coed?
Ah fuck it, I know the answers to all three questions, and they’re profoundly depressing.
Most depressing of all, though, is that the old harridan has no shame in announcing all this to the entire nation on TV. One would hope that someone of her generation would have more manners, modesty or class, but I suppose that as the titled old bat has probably had more pricks than a pin cushion, she probably doesn’t care.
Fach.
Actually, the reason she wouldn’t bonk a man of her age is that most of us would see through her bullshit and decline the offer, whereas some younger fool would be taken in by her title, celebrity and whatever other reasons why young fools bonk someone of their Nana’s age.
Well written, Sir! Descriptively insulting, yet with the manners of a refined Gentleman. A true pleasure to read.
“…paging through the wrinkles to find her rather cobwebby Garden Of Delight..”
Priceless!
Unless looking for money, I doubt any young man would touch that hook-nosed, dried up, bucktoothed, bleached out beast for fear of catching something, and no doubt her bra’s gone from a 36C to a 40 long. He could have a concussion from that pendulum in passion.
I’m going with either the money angle, or mental illness angle.
I’d have hit it when I was in my 20s, but then again when I was in my 20s I’d hit anything that was recognizably female, didn’t smell too bad, and had no identifiable diseases or vermin. By the time I’d reached her target age I’d have passed. Now of course I’m too old for her (being only 14 years younger than she is).
Someday when I comment here after drinking I may tell the story of the lady I kept company with who was 56 and I was 27.
“when I was in my 20s I’d hit anything that was recognizably female, didn’t smell too bad, and had no identifiable diseases or vermin”
I wasn’t that picky.
How I survived my 20s I’ll never know.
“old bat has probably had more pricks than a pin cushion”
Brings to mind another definition; “If she had as many sticking out as had been stuck in, she’d be a porcupine”. In any event, old cougar still has an appetite!
she’s not an aristocrat.
She married one; hence she’s still Lady Colin Campbell. She’s trading off her ex-husband’s name, and has done for over 40 years. Basically says outrageous things to get on telly (and mentions Diana, PoW once in a while. That helps)
And – incidentally – she was born intersex, and was ‘allocated’ male at birth
“We are no longer accepting comments on this article.”
AHAHAhahHAhahahhhahaAHAhahahhahahaaahHAhahaha…
Can’t imagine why.