Generally, this blog tries to keep grossness off its pages but this one is so regurgitation-producing that it has to go up.
How the tradition above was ever allowed to happen is beyond me but we’ll let that pass. What went through my mind was that those kids are the perfect answer to protecting the young – who in their right mind would go near one of those groupies and what diseases would you catch if you did forget yourself one night in a drunken blear?
Pity the photo is so remote because if you were to show just the faces with their mindless bestial expressions, surely you’d run a mile?
More charitably, when I was that age, I always wondered why the oldies didn’t want to come with us – after all, we were out having fun, alive, vibrant, clueless and postulating the whole time and all the olds did was sit around and natter – how boring. And olds would cough and splutter, the men mainly – how gross. I thought I’d hate to be sentenced to stay with them for more than an hour.
The type of readers this blog has are socially pretty tolerant and this post won’t sit well with them – they’ll say things like “kids are kids”, “you’re only young once”, “sow your wild oats” and all that. Or even “what do expect from that age?”
But seriously though, these days, should you have a chance encounter, it’s always going to run through your mind – where have they been, who’s been through them and how was the personal hygiene of those yobs or spotty herberts who did use this filly?
And as for the new adipose tissue with no shame – ugggh. I hasten to add I’m not talking about “cuddly” here, which is highly enticing but gratuitous uncaring about self. [I hear the rapid clicking of people departing this blog, maybe forever.]
The chances of a “nice” girl were considerably better a few decades back, pre-acid house, pre-free love. You could be fairly certain you weren’t getting a well-worn product by the time you invested. All of which is belied by my own actions – my two wives were both older than me by considerable years and the experience they showed was alluring in itself, plus they were still in fabulous nick. So maybe I’m talking out of my backside.
And then you have to look at yourself – are you any great shakes for the female who wants a tall, dark, intelligent, handsome man of means, with no nasty personal habits, a full head of hair and with a titan tadger? How many of those boxes do we tick off ?
So it does seem to me that the chances are remarkably small these days that two people could even come together, let alone stay together. As a rule, I’m not a list maker on what I like to see – love conquers all and all that – but on the weekend, I thought I’d jot down some of the things I don’t really like in a woman and the list was horrifying – it just went on and on:
1. A group mentality to everything, including intimacy;
2. Questionable personal hygiene;
3. Tatts, nose bones and bits of nails sticking through skin;
4. Overbearing or boorish behaviour;
5. Feminism – full stop, period – even the slightest whiff of it;
6. Addiction to a loud cacophony they’re wont to call music;
7. A self-absorbed, self-entitled, leftist mentality with liberal doses of victimhood;
8. Howling or shrieking voice which they interpret as bubbly or character;
9. Really poor decision-making and ferocious defence of same;
10. Completely different body movement to oneself, different pace, different gait;
11. No concept of fidelity – it all has to be her self-fulfilment;
12. Coarse, hard-drinking and foul mouthed;
13. Expensive and knows all the brands – style over character [Posh];
14. Flirts too much;
15. Sheer ignorance yet thinks she has it all at her fingertips;
16. Insists on clubbing and/or dancing – party animal;
Chances, it seems to me, are zero as females thankfully not afflicted with the above have no doubt been snapped up and no guy is going to lose a good ‘un to the open market, nor would she wish to be out there in this dystopic world today.
Now anyone having read this far would know full well it never works that way. You meet someone and you’re in before much of the above becomes apparent and good thing too, eh? What chance anyone walking in with a list like that when he himself is no great shakes? Recipe for a lonely old age, I should have thought.
And seriously, chaps, an aging man needs to pay particular attention to not looking gross because quite a few of my old mates tend to get a bit ragged around the edges with age.
Returning to the female, as my Russian mate said, the pool of eligible females [in terms of the list above, say] is much wider, ditto in France and possibly Spain and Italy. Which is interesting because it’s a well-known syndrome the British woman looking towards the Italian male.
In the end, perhaps the rules are that you can’t help your head shape and frame but the rest you can take care of, including minimizing your nasty personal habits as much as poss and if she has done the same, then there are always possibilities.
Hope so, otherwise soon we’ll have done the PTB’s own work for them, population-wise and the world will be populated by yahoos.
Come to think of it …