Today’s Gross Dude of the Day award goes to British Baronet Benjamin Slade. The Baronet, 70 years old and looking for love or at least a reasonable facsimile of it, recently told the Daily Mail that he’s “interviewing hard” for a “fit” lady at least twenty years his junior.
He’s apparently decided that the best way to find a wife young enough to be his daughter is to say insulting things about women in general and his ex-girlfriends in particular.
“I have had a few proposals,” he assures the Mail,
but sometimes the women are past their sell-by date and have been over the guns a few times.
The “past their sell-by date” bit is a tad ironic coming from a pasty elderly dude who’s basically the human equivalent of curdled milk. At least personality-wise.
By his own account, the Baronet has had some trouble finding the younger and more attractive than him woman of his dreams.
He recently split from a woman he sometimes called his fiancee because, he says, “she is 50, so too old to have children.” Either that or she dumped his ass.
His previous gal pal, he says, “went off with my handyman in 2011, but was already showing signs of madness.”
Another previous girlfriend married a rival Lord, the Earl of Carnavon, and Ben the Baronet is apparently still quite bitter about it.
I rescued her from the back of a car, set her up in business and made her a millionaire in 18 months. … She was very difficult to live with. Good riddance to her.
Before her, he dated a woman who was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when he met her. He picked her out, shook her up and turned her around, turned her into someone new. Now five years later on, she’s got the world at her feet …
Sorry, those are actually the lyrics to Don’t You Want Me by the Human League. I got a little confused.
Anyway, if you want to be the Baronet’s lover, you’ve got to be something of a party girl. “They have to be fit,”he told the Mail. “I am like a feudal prince when it comes to throwing parties.”
The Baronet, who desperately wants to put his ancient sperm in a fertile lady, assures all potential applicants that he is making heroic efforts to care of himself and his sperm — by hanging upside down like a bat and eating horny goat weed. No, really, he’ll be glad to explain it all to you:
I’ve bought a back stretcher and hang upside down on it for five minutes every morning. It works wonders for the chin and neckline. I also have some “sky boots” with a hook in the top so I can hang upside down. …
I am also on the Genghis Khan diet, which is recommended for young lotharios and involves eating sweet potato, sunflower seeds and horny goat weed.
It was recommended by my French nephew, who is 70 and hasn’t a single grey hair. And Genghis had 2,000 children.
I would wish Baronet Ben Slade the best of luck, but honestly I’d prefer he have no luck at all. And to any woman who finds herself being courted by Sir Slade I would recommend giving a quick listen to this song by a band that shares a name with the Baronet.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikMiQZF-mAY
Seriously, run, run away, as far away as you can.
H/T — The Virgin Mary, in the comments here
A: Genghis Khan didn’t eat that (sweet potatos and sunflowers are native to the americas)
B: Genghis Khan was dead at that age.
Well…horrifically misogynistic (with the woeful viewpoint of women being fit for reproduction and fancy, and little else), ironically ageist, and ableist to boot. As well as subscribing to all sorts of woo.
A catch to be thrown back as soon as possible.
I hope he finds exactly who he deserves and that she takes him for every last penny.
I’m gonna imagine that the handyman looks like Sean Bean in ‘Lady Chatterly’s Lover.’ Just because that would be hot.
I can’t see that song mentioned without thinking of this cover:
Adorable guys.
If he’s so desperate to have an heir of his body (did I get that phrase right, Alan?), I suspect he’d be better off finding a surrogate mother to be artificially inseminated with his precious noble seed. Surrogate mother would be paid for her time and effort, and nobody would have to marry him.
Sadly, that just puts him back in the wild, where he can continue to be a pest. I recommend, instead, a carefully managed relocation to an environment that his innate toxicity would be unable to further pollute. Storm sewers, for instance, or perhaps a public landfill.
@Freemage:
I think that a pre-release neutering would also be appropriate in this instance.
Maybe if he hadn’t spent his prime fertile years riding the alpha hen carousel, he wouldn’t find himself all post wall and alone trying desperately to court HB10s and getting shot down because his penis is all wrinkled and used up. Like a dried out sausage. Have fun living alone with your dogs, Baronet!
*Giggles*
Although I do like the idea of him hanging upside-down, like the vampiric old bat that he is.
Storm sewers usually drain directly to a stream, except in cases of combined sewers (common in older city centers, less common in the larger suburbs). Sanitary sewers would be a better choice.
Lol.
In the event this guy does somehow have children, I hope they’re all AFAB. That way the baronetcy will die out (assuming there aren’t junior claimants hanging around) and we’ll have one fewer person to call ‘Sir’ on account of their birth.
@WWTH
Oh, well done!!! *applauds enthusiastically*
“but sometimes the women [. . . ]have been over the guns a few times.”
what the heck does THAT mean? is this misogynist slang, British slang, or both?
Would go along with this if marrying him would make me a Baroness, but Google says no. Sorry guy, try being born a real baron next time.
Perfect, weirwoodtreehugger!
Hmm. Sometimes, as a Chaucerian of suitable age (if probably not pedigree), I could almost wish I had less pride. Almost.
*Wonders if it would be possible to stage a ‘horrific’ shooting ‘accident’ during the reception, I mean, he’s a hunting, shooting, fishing toff, these things happen, right?*
Patrick, stick to ONE NAME!
@WWTH: That was amazing.
It’d be worth marrying him for like five seconds if after he died I’d become a baroness. Think of all the good I could do and the people I could help with that much wealth and resources!
But he’s not a baron, he’s a baronet. More to the point, I’m not sure I could convincingly have him murdered two seconds after “I do” without being a suspect, and I am completely infertile so I’d have to conceal that information somehow.
Anyway, I don’t expect many educated women to be tripping over themselves to deal with this…stain.
@IgnoreSandra
Maybe we could do it like in that one Agatha Christie? Make sure everyone on the bride’s side at the reception was in on it.
Think of the house! Er, I mean, of all the good we could do. I’ll split it with you, if I get the Chaucer rooms.
Yeah, funny how, for all MRAs love to bang on about how materialistic and status obsessed women are, this creep doesn’t exactly seem inundated with offers….
@Leo
Considering he probably won’t have anyone on his side of the wedding, that’d probably be as simple as only inviting co-conspirators.
The house’d be nice, yes, but owning tons of property is really bourgeois in a world where people starve to death. The first priority would be finding a way to get those assets to serve the poor and marginalized.
I am materialistic. I’m not materialistic enough to actually marry this guy in good faith, even if he was an actual Baron.
Aw, shucks. Thanks all! I’m prouder when I make a successful funny than when I do just about anything else.
Idk. I’d be willing to take one for the team in this case. I’m fit enough to be able to give him a heart attack in bed, I wager. Then I could use the money to fund indigeneity projects, and BLM.
Same Kat, new nym
So sweet! This guy has finally realized that he wants to be a dad. And he’s telling the world about it!
Good luck to you, Baronet Whoozis!