Aged like a fine wine

If I find myself still doing this when I’m in my sixties (sweet roller skating Christ, I hope that doesn’t happen) I now know I have what it takes to snag myself a senior suitor. As a side effect of my experiment on multiple sites, I’ve discovered I’m quite popular with the aging population in the prairie provinces. I’ve also discovered that the inability to talk to a woman about something other than her tits is not solved by a mid-life crisis:

I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

I didn’t screen shot this next gentleman’s messages, but he kept talking about my “assets” —quotations included. He’s 63 and lives in Saskatchewan:


Calling yourself a gentleman doesn’t automatically make it so. You’re not old school, you’re just old – and still inappropriate. 

Maybe I’m incorrigibly optimistic, but I truly hope this isn’t going to be the norm in a few decades. I expect it from people my age, but I have higher hopes for the more learned and mature amongst us. Then again, this youngish guy is going to be old someday, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he is still running this game in the distant future (and yes, it’s the wrong form of ‘bated,’ but autocorrect and I had a slight difference of opinion on that):

And people wonder why I drink.


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