Will and the rest of you,
Wow! Will, you have done it again. Your Creepers and Cougs poop smear on the A-T page provided readers with just enough of a glimpse into your own pathetic little drink pouring, tip snatching, not lonely if you count bar patrons as friends, underworld to know we don’t see things like you do. Your opening paragraph was a thinly veiled attempt to disguise your forthcoming assault on the middle-aged. You only fooled yourself and the lamebrains who use the A-T as their own posterior crevasses wipe each week.
You wasted no time in showing us your imaginary world where people over 40 are toothless, unshaven and pushing shopping carts about. Even more fanciful is that the 20-something women in your bar or any other represent feminine innocence. Are you kidding?
You dipped dangerously close to full-on delusional when you positioned your dorky, fat ass as some sort of savior or rescuer from middle-aged flesh hounds. If these girls want to get away from the dude who is the same age their daddy, all they have to do is a quick about face and with the swish of their ponytail and a couple shakes of their tight little heiney wave goodbye.
You may not have thought about it, but your so-called creeper may have more interesting things to talk about than the little boys their own age who can’t unscrew their hands from a video controller, or their own dick, long enough to do anything worth talking about.
Here is a sample exchange between male and female college students taken from the real world.
Mike: “Hey there Mackenzie, what’s up?”
Mackenzie: “I dunno, not much. How ‘bout you?”
Mike: “Today I totally fucked up these dudes from Saginaw, Michigan in Halo 3 - It was carnage like the world has never seen! Shoulda been there....”
Mackenzie: “Yeah - shoulda. Well, nice seeing you again Mike. Bye bye.”
Mike: “Yeah - and me ‘n’ Hanky were doin’ shots of Jack ‘n’ downed three 40s apiece before 2 o’clock! Fuckin eh! Hanky was pukin...” (sees she’s gone) “Whatever, bitch.”
Maybe her attention is held by the creeper because he can afford to buy her more than a tap beer or wouldn’t need her to drive his unshaven, out-of-shape, under-employed ass around town because he has his own car - one or two that actually run and look good and his dad didn’t buy for him. No.
In your mind they must be hanging around because they are just too nice to walk away. So you dream about putting your hands on this dude’s shoulders... Hmmm? I suspect it’s a dream you actually had but you weren’t shaking him you were giving him a big wet throat exam. You object to the coug at the end of the bar, and imagine she has a mustache to dodge the fact you wouldn’t do her if she looked like Eva Mendez.
I’m no Bruce Willis (who by the way, just married a woman nearly half his age) but I don’t creep out those females in their 20s I talk to at school, the store or wherever I choose. I’m 44 and am quite sure I could out perform your paunchy, jiggly, 2XL 20-something ass in any physical endeavor including satisfying some pretty 20-something’s feminine not-so-innocence. It’s not bragging if you can back it up. Yeah, in the recent past hot, sexy, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24 and 25 year-old-women, that any hetro-male would desire, have pulled out all stops to make themselves available for extensive romps with yours truly. Repeatedly. Yes Will, these hot young honeys you’re trying to protect recognize a real man when they see one and get past the age thing in a heartbeat. I stopped dating these chicks. Not because they don’t look banging hot, but because there is too great of an intellectual disconnect, among other social incompatibilities. They lack the sophistication to keep me interested. My girlfriend is 40 and luscious!
No, we creepers and cougs don’t need your contrived dating arrangements. Nor do we need your smug little fuck-faced pity. (Look at your photo. Dude, you look like you just got ass-rammed with your daddy-o’s woody and liked it. What the hell is going on with that?)
You can go on living the lie that you belong to such an exclusive club cuz you’re all young and sexy and cool and all. It’s OK if you decide to grace an old person with a little of your attention. But we are expected to reserve our coug and creeper attention for those sad and lonely middle-agers like ourselves. I hope some hot, sexy 43-year-old woman reads that offensive brown stain you call a column and finds where you tend bar, walks in and punches you right in your doofus puss.
She could say she had a dream and in the dream she uncovered her gorgeous, well-toned fleshy thighs while you watched, then proceeded to do a complete strip tease; generous womanly hips and behind, soft round stomach, breasts... you get the picture. In the dream you run out of the room horrified.
In your loud, boisterous voice you criticize her for having a couple wrinkles around her eyes.
You’re just a fag.
Affectionately,
Randy Johnson
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