Yes, I’m old and I embarrass myself often. Still, my mind insists that I’m young and forces me to wince when Grandpop has arm candy. We all are well aware that regardless of what the blond bimbo blabs, she’s in it for the money/fame. She is NOT attracted to him. She dreads the thought of catching a glimpse of his underslung ass and pendulus gonads while he scrubs his dentures. When horizontal, she sighs, closes her eyes, and repeats to herself, “There’s no place like Nordstroms.”
They covered the topic on Men of a Certain Age recently: Fun, old chap with full head of hair, in decent shape for his age admired for his wisdom by sweet, young thing willing to put up with wrinkles to avoid the clumsy, frat toads swarming around her at the local pub. Her friends and parents are disgusted. His buddies are jealous. The young dudes drinking themselves blind and sleeping in their parents’ garages are angry. Authors are taking notes between sips and waiting for the implosion.
This scenario is so cliché. Eventually, Pappy can’t tolerate her immaturity and Ginger becomes bored with his inactivity and early-to-bed routine. Pappy returns to the age-appropriate ex and Ginger heads back into the pub to do shots and bang skateboarders. Roll the credits. *yawn*
I hate defending Hef because, although I admire his empire, I can’t get the image of him in his Popeye hat with a lovely bunny on his about-to-snap lap. Of course, he’s attracted to bombshells. Can’t blame him. Of course, she’s attracted to the lifestyle he offers. We get it, already. So, why must we point and laugh or gag instead of shrugging? Because, it’s odd and unnatural.
You won’t see the opposite. No extreme cougar scenarios, unless the cougar is attractive enough for the cub to spend more than one night in her cage. It won’t matter if she’s rich or famous. You know why? Because eventually things will need to become sexual. A bit of lube and imagination can help Ginger perform. Nothing short of a cock implant can make the opposite happen.
So, I guess Hef’s chick finally realized that, like Reese Witherspoon said, there are ways to succeed in show business without starring in a sex tape or reality show. Good for her. She didn’t have a change of heart; she stopped believing that sacrificing her dignity was worth the mansion lifestyle, media attention, and high credit line. Now, if she’s brave enough to admit why she considered the twisted deed to begin with, maybe men half Hef’s age won’t run away screaming every time they see her.
I love young girls. I’d be lying if I claimed otherwise. Will I sleep with a woman half my age? Why, certainly. My selections in the area are limited because I only have humor and listening skills to work with. Do I prefer women closer to my age? Usually. (Oh, stop cringing at my honesty.) Sometimes I seek mature discourse and someone I can borrow reading glasses from. Other times, I seek the smooth surface on the fountain of youth, just as my instincts lead me.
They covered the topic on Men of a Certain Age recently: Fun, old chap with full head of hair, in decent shape for his age admired for his wisdom by sweet, young thing willing to put up with wrinkles to avoid the clumsy, frat toads swarming around her at the local pub. Her friends and parents are disgusted. His buddies are jealous. The young dudes drinking themselves blind and sleeping in their parents’ garages are angry. Authors are taking notes between sips and waiting for the implosion.
This scenario is so cliché. Eventually, Pappy can’t tolerate her immaturity and Ginger becomes bored with his inactivity and early-to-bed routine. Pappy returns to the age-appropriate ex and Ginger heads back into the pub to do shots and bang skateboarders. Roll the credits. *yawn*
I hate defending Hef because, although I admire his empire, I can’t get the image of him in his Popeye hat with a lovely bunny on his about-to-snap lap. Of course, he’s attracted to bombshells. Can’t blame him. Of course, she’s attracted to the lifestyle he offers. We get it, already. So, why must we point and laugh or gag instead of shrugging? Because, it’s odd and unnatural.
You won’t see the opposite. No extreme cougar scenarios, unless the cougar is attractive enough for the cub to spend more than one night in her cage. It won’t matter if she’s rich or famous. You know why? Because eventually things will need to become sexual. A bit of lube and imagination can help Ginger perform. Nothing short of a cock implant can make the opposite happen.
So, I guess Hef’s chick finally realized that, like Reese Witherspoon said, there are ways to succeed in show business without starring in a sex tape or reality show. Good for her. She didn’t have a change of heart; she stopped believing that sacrificing her dignity was worth the mansion lifestyle, media attention, and high credit line. Now, if she’s brave enough to admit why she considered the twisted deed to begin with, maybe men half Hef’s age won’t run away screaming every time they see her.
I love young girls. I’d be lying if I claimed otherwise. Will I sleep with a woman half my age? Why, certainly. My selections in the area are limited because I only have humor and listening skills to work with. Do I prefer women closer to my age? Usually. (Oh, stop cringing at my honesty.) Sometimes I seek mature discourse and someone I can borrow reading glasses from. Other times, I seek the smooth surface on the fountain of youth, just as my instincts lead me.
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