One of the great bonuses about being a man and getting on a bit is that as the years go by, so does the testosterone. Now you might think that this is a bit of a tragedy and I should be crying in my onion soup, but no. It’s really a godsend as there are so many facets of life that are driven by this insidious chemical that I am now free to do as I please. And economise at the same time.
No longer do I have to waste money on high powered red super cars with thumping V8 motors and scream tyres around every corner. Now free from the urge to drive at twice the speed limit and terrorise highway tortoises. No. I can quite happily and guilt free, walk to the pub for a beer for the rest of my days.
Free from all primeval urges that makes males scream, ‘Whao! Whoa!’ whenever a young lady passes by and free from the necessity to wolf whistle and prance around like a rutting rhino just because a female happens to be within periscope range. Without the testosterone driven need to make a complete ass of myself, it is common for attractive women to politely say hello to me now. Clearly I pose no rutting rhino threat.
Expensive after shave, costly eau de cologne and hair gel are all savings I make now, and well, this really helps. Especially when it comes time to pay my doctor’s bills. Gone are the days of expensive dinners for two in trendy restaurants, expensive cover charges at clubs and discos and thank goodness, no need to dance like a complete idiot in public ever again.
No need to wonder if she’s ‘gonna do it’ because, well, it’s way past my bedtime quite early these days so really I just can’t be bothered hanging around yawning and waiting to find out. And anyway, I really hate having guests for breakfast anyway.
So freedom at last. I bet all you young guns are really envious now!