Twenty goes into sixty a lot more times than sixty goes into twenty


Do the media nearly always portray the old rich guy who gets the trophy wife, rather than the Merry Widow snagging a twenty year old toy boy? Let’s face it, when it comes to old age women have us men beat. Today’s female grey wolves were lucky enough to have bought property fifty years ago for the current price of a Plasma TV screen. When their other half sadly shuffles off the mortal coil some widows will have amassed considerable fortunes. Male goldmines are still hotwired by nature to their groin, so most gold diggers come in one size fits all sugar daddy model; a trout mouth pneumatic busted blond, often with an IQ rating matching their shoe size. There is nothing wrong with that. I always remember the ecstatic grin on the wheelchair bound J.Howard Marshall who married playmate of the year Anna Nicole Smith. But women have a far more eclectic selection process. Obviously fit and toned but this new age toy boy is going to have work hard for the money.

...and another thing

If, dear reader, you are wondering where to invest your cash, how about training schools for aspiring Lotharios? I predict this as a major growth business with academies sprouting up all over the country and being as thorough in their training as Norland’s are for their eponymous nannies.

It would do much to help the unemployment of young men as well as set off a major redistribution of wealth as they all get left a thank you in the newly invigorated Aunt Clarissa’s will.

So what skills will set you in good stead as a gigolo (apart from the obvious) and make you acceptable arm candy for ladies born in the 1950’s.

Vegans, scruffy dressers, non-smokers, non-drinkers and non-gamblers need not even apply for admission.

We have a very upmarket retirement home here in Malta we sometimes pop up to on Sunday.

Each female resident is dressed to the nines, fully made up and are onto their second gin and tonic by midday. Most are dragging on cigarette holders holding Dunhill’s finest and salivating over the idea of rare roast beef for lunch… followed by viciously competitive bridge or rummy.

In addition to fitting into this lifestyle our Gigolo will have to appear to enjoy shopping and have an encyclopedic knowledge of shoes. A decent knowledge of music from The Rat Pack via Rock’nRoll to Rock is a pre-requisite. Listening to rap will get you fired.

He’s going to have to learn to trip the light fandango properly. Most men believe they are natural John Travolta’s on the dance floor but they actually look like Travolta from Hairspray, not Saturday Night Fever.

A decent understanding of specific medical issues such as bunion treatment and getting the correct dosage of HRT is vital. Being able to correctly apply hair dye to cover up greying roots is also going to be a basic requirement.

Anyone who suffers from seasickness is also going to fail as these women love going on either river or sea cruises.

...and another thing

I only hope that these studs remember that in their youth during the sixties I suspect these ladies had more than their fair share of sex drugs and Rock’nRoll. So I suspect the biggest requisites are fitness and the acceptance they might just teach you a thing or two.

In the immortal words of Joan Collins on what she thought about the 36 year age difference between herself and husband Percy Gibson.

“Look we are very happy, he’s great in bed but if he dies, he dies.”

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