Age Is Just a 1-800 Number

They say that the internet is primarily used for porn.

I’m not going to lie; I make a habit of deleting my search history every morning just in case I get hit by a bus.

Deleting your search history is the modern equivalent of heeding your mother’s advice regarding wearing clean underwear.

Given that I am a single woman almost beyond middle age, I am less concerned about the ambo’s reaction to my smalls than I am to my children’s horror at discovering my fixation with Japanese tentatporn.

It’s just SO bizarre how can anyone NOT be fascinated?

Today when I was looking at pictures of Hugh Jackman running all over Sydney beaches with his shirt off thus discovering a lot of rather well photo shopped pictures of him with his highly inflamed organ precariously close to the Adamantium sheathed 6 inch claws that thrust from his knuckles every time his blood rises….I came across a WHOLE other side to the phrase ‘something for everyone’.

Down on about page 8 of the search (hey, my weekend had started and it’s raining outside) there was a rather disturbing picture of a clearly elderly gentleman all but naked, with a look on his face that was either ‘come get me’ or ‘help me, I may be having a stroke’.

When my mouse ran over his ample grey chest I discovered it belonged to someone’s Flickr account.

OK.

I thought we all knew about not wishing to appear naked online unless we were being paid for it, but still…..I clicked on the picture and lo, found myself in the world of ‘ Italian Daddy’s’.

Now before you think for one minute that I am sitting here in judgement, let me just point out that I understand perfectly well the dynamics of sexual psychology.

My rainbow flagged family, not to mention my own predilections, could leave little doubt as to the Large ‘O’ Open-mindedness I value.

Whatever floats your boat, as long as it’s between consenting adults of the same species, but flicking through this account - ( wow, those guys NAILED naming that thing, so much more than Tumblr )- it was clear to me that most of the pictures taken were of unsuspecting members of the public.

Of the 229 photos at least half were just of old men walking down the street or in the stands at Soccer matches, or fishing off piers.

Most of them were clearly shot from the back and, I would think, without the subject’s awareness or permission.

Of course, some of the photos were clearly set up to look smexy.

Nothing says ‘You’ve been naughty’ like a grinning topless 70 year old laying on a peach pleather sofa with his belt buckle undone.

I’m going to be honest; the ones with the walking sticks freaked me out a little, as did the sequence of stills – obviously taken from the tele- of Peter Sellers removing his socks.

That the account is held by, and is a service to, men and women ( and here I think I mean just men) who find beer bellied, balding, double chinned old Italian men the hottest thing since removable false teeth is, I suppose, heart-warming.

It doesn’t do it for me, but it clearly does for ‘greydigger’, ‘daddyzboi’ and ‘Grislyman’, all of whom made a number of pictures of old men in jeans their personal favourites.

And that’s a fine thing, although I do think that taking random photographs of Giovanni Public as he wanders through the piazza for a Lemoncello and a dissection of the game in his twilight years a bit of an invasion of privacy.

Not to mention probably illegal.

Italian men are packed with testosterone, it’s true, but not all of them imagine themselves still ‘on the pull’ to a bunch of twinks looking for comfort in the warm embrace of tissue paper arms.

And if they WERE interested, they would have listed themselves on www.richgaysugardaddy.com

Sadly, no website exists for slightly beyond middle aged women with the same qualities as the ones listed above.

And no matter how hard I try, I doubt anyone will find the way I take off my socks as a reason to break open a new box of durex.

So for now I shall go back to my pictures of Hugh looking buff in the surf, and try to imagine his lucky, and no doubt lovely, wife shrieking things like “ take that towel off the bed” at him after he steps out of the shower.

Wet, weapon’s erect, and sheathed.