|[Blog] There's No One Quite Like Grandma - Betting Tips Suitable for Ages 18-80|
Written by SE1blue on Wednesday, 16th Nov 2011 19:18
Reading the allegations involving Justin Bieber and one of his ‘fans’ this week reminded me of an incident I once had, with a chart-topping female singer, in the back room of my local pub. However, my brief encounter with a pop star didn’t end with a paternity test, it was almost a case of a slap and no tickle.
It was 1995, and I had been warming a barstool on band night at the Ship & Star, Sudbury for several hours. The music was loud, the smoke was thick and the beer was heavy. Heavy enough to be putting pressure on my bladder, so I hopped of my seat and went to the gents.
A few minutes later I was pushing my way through a forest of denim, beards and beer guts back to my place at the bar. When I got there though there was a leather-clad lady sat on my stool sipping a drink.
“That’s my stool,” I slurred. The alcohol had diluted some of my manners.
“And now I’m sitting on it,” she smiled back.
“That’s my stool,” I repeated. It had also washed away my ability to debate.
“I know honey, and I am very grateful that you are letting me sit on it,” her smile grew wider.
“That’s my stool, that’s my stool, that’s my stool, that’s my stool, THAT’S MY STOOL…”
I was outside on the pavement. Still with no barstool, and nobody for company except Mr How-did-I-get-here? Well, it turns out that Suzi Quatro fans don’t like you shouting at their idol or an honest answer to the question “Don’t you know who I am?”.
A couple of days ago I was telling my girlfriend this story as we are off to Budapest at the weekend - to see Tom Jones (I’ve heard of him)- having wangled a couple of front row seats (not barstools), well within underwear-throwing range.
We also talked about the Bieber allegations that the papers are covering, and I asked her, as a joke, if Sir Tom were to come over to her at the end of his set, give a little wink and huskily ask her backstage, would she go?
“Oh, hell yes!” was a response I hadn’t even considered.
Immediately, my mind was awash with emotions. Firstly, that she would cheat on me. Secondly, she would cheat on me with a really old man. Thirdly, what would I do in a foreign country whilst she was cheating on me with a really old man?
I mean, Tom Jones probably knocked boots with over a thousand groupies back in his heyday, so would undoubtedly perform longer than Justin Bieber allegedly did – sounds like it really was a case of “Baby, baby, oh!”. And this would give me way too much time to think about all the cheating and all the old man stuff, whilst they tore down curtains and knocked over lamps in his dressing room as I flicked through a copy of Hungary for Dummies.
But, I was already worrying plenty enough about both of these issues, especially the second one concerning his age. So, whilst my girlfriend sloped off into a daydream (where I reasoned she was now thinking about her, TJ and the pair of them just leaving their hats on), I googled ‘How old is Tom Jones?’.
“He’s 71 years old babe. That’s older than your dad!”
“Yes it is. But I still would.”
That didn’t work, so I tried a different approach. “Err. That’s nearly as old as Gerard Butler and Brian Cox added together.”
“Mmmmmm!” she mused, and disappeared off into another daydream as I anxiously paced my size twelves through a Hungarian nightmare that featured Tom, Gerard, Brian, a limousine filled with foam, an inflatable zebra, some blackcurrant jelly and a disposable camera.
My doctor says I should eat a little less cheese.
I was starting to breathe like an old man and could feel creases forming on face with the stress of it all. Clearly, the one thing that was bothering me the most, was the one thing that was concerning my girlfriend the least – Sir Tom’s age.
So, as a mature adult myself, I decided the best plan of action in this situation was to play tit-for-tat. I set about finding a celebrity woman to fancy, who was so old, but so cute, it would drive my girlfriend insane… or at least a little more insane than myself.
Forget about the Miss Worlds, I was now all about the Miss Marples. I wasn’t looking for a MILF, I was hunting for a GILF, a Granny I’d Like to…
I began searching the internet for female singers over the age of 60, with whom I would make a backstage pass. Tina Turner? Cher? Barbra Streisland? Bette Midler? Donna Summer? Luckily, all the spoons were in the dishwasher and I didn’t get the chance to gouge out my eyes. Was this what Usher meant when he wrote “A lady on the street but a freak in the bed”?
I realised limiting my search to singers wasn’t working. I cast my granny net a little further and fished for female celebrities over the age of 50.
Anita Dobson? Hilary Clinton? Camilla Parker-Bowles? Edwina Currie? Barbara Windsor? Jessica Lange? Margaret Thatcher? Roseanne Barr?
It wasn’t getting any better. I needed to find an old dear without the “oh dear”, an OAP with some OMG! My girlfriend started humming Delilah. The pressure was mounting.
I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve looked at some really weird stuff on the internet since it began. I think we’ve all suffered at the sweaty hands of Mr Curiosity and hoped that Uncle Norton will filter the filth from the fun. However, I never thought I’d be entering ‘sexy grannies’ into my search engine until I was at least in a nursing home.
Then it struck me. I had to go back to go forward. I realised that the women I had fallen in love when I was a boy would now be pensioners in my middle age. I just had to find out where they were now.
Sadly, the 80s centrefolds, I once hid in a disused chicken shed at the bottom of my parents garden, were long gone - following the unfortunate Porngate scandal that surrounded our local church in 1986. How was I to know that an old nesting box would make a suitable manger for the Christmas nativity?
My research led me to discover that ex-Wonder Woman, Lynda Carter, can barely put herself in a spin any more, let alone turn any heads. And Daisy Duke (Catherine Bach), whose hot pants meant many a cold shower for me as a boy, is now more Pig’s Pen than Boar’s Nest.
However, after several hours (read days) of browsing websites and pictures for a woman with plenty of wrinkles and even more twinkle, I finally came up with my list of top five ‘Canny Grannies’. Here it is:
1. Melinda Culea (56)
I gave my laminated list, complete with accompanying photographs, to my girlfriend and proudly announced I would happily sleep with any of my childhood TV sweethearts, should they single me out in a crowd. Then I sat back smugly and waited for jealousy to begin. She took a good look before she replied.
“You boys are funny, when I was a little girl, I was in love with Lassie."
I thought about this for a moment, before asking, “When you say in love, would you have…”. But then I thought better of it, and went and cut myself a nice piece of Roquefort.
Here are this week's predictions:
Sunderland v Fulham
Watford v Portsmouth
Correct Score Prediction
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