Old-Age Heroes

I have spoken of elderly zillionaire Duncan Bannatyne and his late-30s wife Nigora [sic]  before, and I maintain that if a rich guy wants a sexy young wife, he should be able to buy one.

So it should come as little surprise that I should exult when he celebrates his age at a birthday party with a Roman theme:

But that’s not the only reason to rejoice.  Because if one old guy can do it, so can another — and at the same party withal.  Here’s Olde Pharte zillionaire John Caudwell showing up for the festivities, also in Roman duds:

…and he’s wearing the knee brace not because he slipped in the shower, but because of a skiing  accident (DUDE!!!!!).

But it’s the pic of the two geriatric Lotharios with their not-so-blushing brides which takes the golden banana:

Here’s another look at Caudwell’s squeeze, the wonderfully-named Modesta Vzesniauskaite (35):

Why do I love situations like this so much?

Because it drives Teh Feministicals (most of whom are terminally ugly) batshit crazier.

Dumping The Spouse

Here’s a little bit of cheery goodness for you.  In the Ultra-Self-Centered Wing of the Museum of Solipsism, you may find this:

One in ten women admit they would DUMP their partner in return for more free hours in the day — as most confess they need an extra 82 minutes every day
2,000 American women aged 18 and over took part in the study, which looked at their average daily routines
The average woman said she needs an extra 82 minutes a day to accomplish everything she wants to get done
If they had more free time, 36% said they would use it to read, and 29% would use it to work out
Over 30% said they have less than 30 minutes to themselves each day
Due to lack of time, half of those surveyed have given up hobbies
22% would use their time to learn a new skill like knitting or photography

How precious.  Momma wants more time to improve herself, even after admitting to this:

30 per cent of women would give up social media and TV for more free time

Here’s an alternative statistic for you.  If women weren’t so stupidly obsessed with social media bullshit and their appearance, 100% of men wouldn’t leave them.

Or something like that.


The King Is Dead

One wonders what King Gillette would think of his company’s current manifestation of anti-masculinity:

A new short film released by the shaving brand dedicates itself to tackling toxic masculinity in a video that relies more on berating men for not living up to the standards of feminists than selling razors.

Knowing but a little of what King Gillette was like, and knowing how many years of toil and financial hardship he endured to get his disposable razor blade to the market, I think he’d probably burn the whole fucking thing to the ground, and I’d be handing him the cans of gasoline.

In the grand scheme of things, I’d be one of the men refusing to buy Gillette products in protest at their foolishness.  But the truth of the matter is that I haven’t used a Gillette product in well over a quarter of a century, simply because I refuse to spend about $5 for a blade which lasts me less than a week*.  (Good old safety singles or bargain-priced Trac II blades for me;  and if I run out, I use a straight, or “cutthroat” razor without a qualm.)

As for Gillette’s parent company, Proctor & Gamble:  I have suffered untold toiletry privations at their hands, the miserable Cincinnati MFCS bastards:  brand “extensions” which end up replacing much-loved products, only to see said extensions later withdrawn, meaning that I have to find replacements for products I’ve used sometimes for decades.  Try to find, in supermarkets or drugstores anywhere, Old Spice Original Fresh Stick deodorant with the the light blue label — not the anti-perspirant variant, which smells like cat piss.  I’ve been using Old Spice Fresh sticks for well over fifty years, and now I’m forced to buy them online in packs of 24 because they are nowhere to be found otherwise.  And if that supply dries up, I’ll stop using deodorant altogether, because every other male deodorant on the market nowadays smells like an attractant for homosexual prostitutes during Fleet Week.)

To use Gillette’s line on P&G:  50 years of unswerving loyalty is “the best a man can get”, you incompetent fuckers.  Too bad it means nothing to you.

A pox on all of them.  I can’t wait for “woke” to become “choke”, and may they burn in the fires of toiletry hell.

*En passant:  I once tried one of those 5-blade things — a disposable — just for the hell of it, and it felt like someone was dragging the hair out of my face with sandpaper.