So there I am, being sent into reverie and gently melted by
the breathtaking beauty and mellow, mellifluous, metzo tones of Elina Garanca, when the
soulless yobs from YouTube throw an ad up on the screen.
It’s for a ‘mature’ dating
agency, and has a picture of this… this… lank-haired woman, wearing glasses
that appear to have been fashioned from the bottoms of two beer bottles, sporting
massive boobs and even more gargantuan thighs, all hanging out of a skimpy black
number that might be a dress or it might be a piece of lingerie, but in either event
– and due in no small measure to the exaggerated proportions of the lady loosely contained
therein – would still be capable of holding a whole 5cwt delivery of best house
coal. This has far more of grime than of glamour about it, believe me. It isn’t
right and it isn’t fair! How do they
know I’m mature anyway?
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