The Fur Files - Dating Grampa, No Time For Flowers, The Other Man
Madame Floretta “Fern” De Villiers, a.k.a. “Amanda Fox” is an author of erotic fiction and commentary. This is her weekly advice column.
Friday, September 24th, 2010.
Dear Fern,
I am a twenty-four year old woman dating a sixty-five year old man. All of my friends think that I'm crazy, but he really is “the bee’s knees.” What’s your opinion?
Sincerely,
Age is a State of Mind
Dear Loser, I mean…
Dear Age,
Hell, I’d probably marry my cat if it were allowed. Come to think of it, I still may do that someday. In the case of dating a man old enough to be your grandfather, I've come up with a few things.
The pros:
1. During sex, saying, “Do me, daddy,” will be a semi-accurate entreaty.
2. Your man's Visa limit should easily accommodate the unnecessary plastic surgery that you will soon want to get (if you haven’t done so already) – Heidi Montag.
The cons:
1. He may not want to have sex as often as you. On second thought, that could be a plus.
2. When YOU are sixty-five, he’ll be dead.
Well, it looks like this one’s a crapshoot. Thus, I say, do whatever floats your boat. Besides, tomorrow you might get hit by a bus, so you may as well have fun while it lasts.
BTW, I think that you and gramps are probably made for each other.
________________________________________
Dear Fern,
My girlfriend and I have been together for a few years. Granted, I am very career oriented, but things between us are usually pretty good. Every once in a while however, she flips out and says that I don’t spend enough time with her. She says that I don’t love her because I never send her flowers or write her love poems.
Fern, I just don’t have time for stuff like that. Saying that I don’t care for her is far, far from the truth. I DO love her, and I am 100% committed to our relationship. It’s just that I’m working my butt off every day trying to succeed in life. What does she want, for me to be a bum on the street or some guy selling candy bars at the Quickie?
Sincerely,
Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t
Dear Damned,
I’d hardly say that you are damned – a little obtuse maybe and just a tad bourgeois, but certainly not damned. As for the flowers, it would only take ONE visit to your local florist to set up a monthly delivery to your betrothed.
Speaking of which, I’d go for something different like a bouquet of irises and freesia, or some purple dendrobium orchids. Flowers of this sort show that you’ve actually put some thought into the gift. The sales clerk could probably even write a poem to go with it for some extra cashola.
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