On a regular basis I receive Friend requests on Facebook from women a quarter of my age. Curvy girly types. Youngish women with finely sculptured torsos and hips. Most of which lacks sufficient drapage. Displaying it’s not what they know but what they possess. Indicating to me they have more style and very little substance.
Now, why would they be interested in Friending me? A wrinkly old man with barnacles up and down my frail pre-cadaver body. I honestly don’t believe they looked closely at my Facebook Profile picture and postings. What would my wife think if she saw these alluring friend requests? She probably would think? “Oh these girls must have made a big mistake. He’s taken. He’s the only guy around that can reach my Ninja blender up in the top shelf.”
But anyway, I would rather have Facebook friend requests from someone who reads John Grisham books, the New Yorker, and listens to NPR. Someone who remembers what a transistor radio was and has driven a 1958 VW beetle. I would certainly prefer someone who has read volumes of MAD Magazine and thinks Rocky the Flying Squirrel was the funniest cartoon on TV. Do you think these fleshy girls share my likes and dislikes? NO-o-o. None the less, I have turned down their friend requests. Sorry girls. Where’s my compression socks and Preparation-H?