Listen to Granny because Granny always knows best!
I’m as fond as the next woman of a honed, tanned and tattooed young male body (although the effort necessary to achieve it argues a worrying level of narcissism). What pisses on my strawberries big time is the unlovely sight of a fat, sweaty pensioner dressed in nothing but a snot rag and a cheese wire.
These guys are inevitably a weird shade of magenta and liberally endowed with white body hair. Their bellies precede them like sweat stained battering rams, and their pendulous breasts swing with each step of their bandy little legs.
If I could get a shotgun…