WELCOME, HAPPY FUNTIME ELVES, TO THE LOLLAPALOOZA THAT IS IN NO DANGER OF BEING KNOWN AS
THE TEARS OF A CLOWN
This is the final entry for Friday, done LIKE A BOSS by yours truly, Edward Hotspur, on the subject of Group Sex in Retirement Communities. No, Grandma – let me pinch YOUR cheeks! Read this expose on the sordid and largely unknown world of Greatest Generation Geriatric Group Getting-It-On! (Note: If you like the Pina Colada Song, then you are the worst human being ever. I’m sorry, but it’s just godawful. What does it have to do with today’s subject? That song is ALSO really fucking old and slightly nauseating.)
Without further adieu, other than a final one to Le Clown:
When it comes (ha ha!) to the elderly having sex, many of you probably think like I do: I’m still going to be doing it when I’m old. Why you people are thinking about me having sex when I’m old, I have yet to determine, but it takes diff’rent strokes (ha ha!) to rule the world, according to little Arnold. But there are a few of you who may enjoy picturing two hot sweaty elderlies facing off like leathery deflated sumo wrestlers – including the diapers – and getting ready to rub together like two knitting needles, or fingernails on a washboard, or something.
I’m here to change all that.
I, Edward Hotspur, took the plunge into the deep and wet world of group sex in a retirement community. Elderly sex and retiree sex is on the rise (ha ha!) and as more and more people get old, more and more young people get totally fucking creeped the fuck out. I decided to take it upon myself to explore the depths of elderly retirement sex, going as far as I could, until it hurt, or until I broke someone’s hip – all for the sake of gonzo journalism!
At first, I thought I’d just go down to one of the local retirement homes and just straight up start asking questions. But my first attempt to do this didn’t go so well. I was met with less than stellar interest from the womenfolk.
After that disaster, I remembered: the internet! It never really occurred to me before, because the elderly no like hard technology – but maybe the ones who DID like it would be up for some “research.” I figured I would kill two Berthas with one stone, and I searched for Retirement Home Dating Sites. I got a whole slew of them, but the one that stood out was Edna Madison. So I signed up for an account. Why not? I would work on the ‘group’ aspect later on, once they realized what they were getting. I expected to find hot attractive women who just happened to be wayyyyyyyyyy older than me – like this:
Alas, this was not the case. But I did eventually get a hit! I could tell nothing from the first picture, which was simply this:
After a little coaxing, she finally admitted that she thought she might be a little old for me. But I convinced her to give it a shot, and I was off to the races! She sent me a couple of pics – and she was a cute little thing!
So I met her at the Stopped Giving A Fuck Retirement Home for a little tea and crumpets, just so she would feel comfortable. Her sister couldn’t make it – she had to go to the proctologist – but I was STUNNED! She looked even younger than her profile pic! I got a shot of her:
Well, needless to say, I was a little excited – but I am no stranger to love. I played it safe. I didn’t make any moves, and I met all her friends in the SGAF. Friends who weren’t as reserved as she was. Friends who were the gateway to…
Group Sex in a Retirement Community!
Once I was accepted, it opened up a whole new world. At the pool, this is what I saw:
They’re giving me the eye! I was encouraged by this – but I was guarded. Poor Betty got left behind. At some point, she felt comfortable enough to confide in me that she didn’t quite have complete control over her bladder. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had to press on. I had to find that which I had sought for some time – a roll of paper towels. I told her as delicately as I could that she should consider an adult diaper – and she took it with poise. After I helped her clean up her accident, I decided to go deeper into the bowels of the SGAF. There were parts of this retirement home that were not open to the public, and didn’t appear on the website or the brochure. I wanted to see the dark places, and I wanted to see them now.
I came upon the gym fairly quickly, but it was somewhat of a Vienna sausage party. Just a couple of guys riding stationary bikes. Apparently, clothing was optional in this place, and not only that, it was co-ed. These two gentlemen riding bikes were watching a woman stretch out in the window, but I am pretty sure they will change the clothing policy or the co-ed policy in the very near future. It seems that BOTH gentlemen got a little excited watching the woman – a little TOO excited – and this poor copier repairman… Let’s just say his skin probably looks great now. Look:
Poor copy guy! I got out of there quickly. After some time, in a small recreation room down a long dark hallway, I met a kindred spirit, and he and I compared notes. I learned a lot from him, and he from me, and I think it made my experience there all the better. Here is a picture of him and his success!
I didn’t catch his name, or the name of that younger guy standing in front of him – not at first. They kept things like that on the down low, or ‘under the walker’ as they say at the SGAF. His advice was sound, though – at that advanced age, once you “have milk and cookies” with one of them, instead of being turned off they actually FLOCK to you! Incredible advice from Mister Shufflebed Playa! I just decided to go for it. Why not? What did I have to lose? My octovirginity, that’s what! And along came Eudora:
She was ready and willing. At this age, there are no sluts. And after the briefest of small talks, we ended up in her room:
It turns out that I was the VICTIM OF A SEXUAL PRACTICAL JOKE! As we were “packing some to take home with us”, she pointed out the cameras. CAMERAS! I couldn’t believe it! This randy hot wet beauty was the bait in a home-wide trap that I’m not sure I wanted to get out of.
You see, those cameras were REAL, and they were LIVE, and they were ON – broadcasting our sweet sweet May-December lovemaking on the SGAF LAN! People were watching us on their computers! Really! These are the looks I got as I did the Walk of No Shame down the hallway, past the computer labs:
Life was never the same in the Home after that. They practically wouldn’t let me leave! Once they saw my willingness to eat Grandma’s blueberry muffins, it was Game On. I found out why the elderly like hard candy – men and women both use hard candy to improve their mouth muscles for sucking. True story.
A couple eventually approached me. Finally, actual group sex! Well, a threesome, anyway. But it was a bad threesome. You know, two guys and a girl? I’m not sure if I wanted to be involved in that, even though they clearly were totally and completely ready.
It was fun for a while, but a threesome is NOT group sex. That’s why it has it’s own name, which is not group sex, but ‘threesome’. I was starting to worry whether I would discover true group sex, or if I’d be doomed to hit all the grannies in ones and twos.
And then I met Murray and his G-Hos. They, much like Honey Badger, didn’t give a shit. They came right up to me and let me know what was up. Instead of a virtual Mount Rushmore of uninteresting and uninterested bingo-playing prudes, I saw this:
A couple of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other – with far more elderly ladies than gentlemen, they’re always up to “bake some pie” – but I got into the hot tub with the other three, plus Murray, of course. He was cool – he understood the principle of the bro-ho ratio, and he kept it AT MINIMUM to one more woman than men at all times. He was the mack daddy of the retirement home, the pinnacle of the pre-dead, the Sultan of Social Security – and it showed. I was too stunned to capture this on film, though I did manage to get a quick pic of the hot tub:
Murray – what a comedian! He had the women in stitches, yet with not a stitch of clothing on the entire time! At last, the group paired off, and switched off, and traded off, and there was kissing and licking and biting and nibbling and wrinkling and sagging and graying and balding and drooping and sexy hot Dream Come True Group Home Retirement Sex! These bitches didn’t have to work the next morning – or ever again! There were no Walks of Shame – more like Walks of Not Giving A Shit, or Walks of What Are You Gonna Do About It? They pinched and slapped and bit! They tied each other up! They knitted one, and they motherfucking PEARLED TWO! They had done it all, and they wanted to do it all a few more times before they kicked the bucket. And Bucket List? Every single one of them had scratched everything off their sexual bucket lists, and then written some things on there again just so they could do it again! There were no holds barred, and no holes barred! Every which way but loose, which reminds me – one of them claimed to have banged Clint Eastwood IN THAT FUCKING ‘INVISIBLE’ CHAIR! She said that was was made him so long winded and rambling that night – every time he looked at that chair, it brought back memories of their sexual escapades, brought parts of Clint up, and he had to keep talking and go off script until he talked himself down again! Wow – the more you know.
Well, I was spent. I admit it, right here and now – I could NOT keep up with these people. They had at least 40 years of experience on me. I didn’t know you could put those things in those holes! Unbelievable two weeks. Yes, I was there for two weeks. Time flies when you’re close to death and sex at the same time. They fucked and sucked like it was the last day on earth – which for some of them, it might be!
Unsurprisingly, they had filmed the whole fucking thing, but I didn’t care. I’m never running for office! Murray invited me to watch some of it on his huge tablet.
After watching myself and the whole gang doing it Pappy style, it was time to go – and then I remembered that I hadn’t asked the one question I came there to ask:
Group Sex at a Retirement Community – how is it? I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves:
Final Verdict: Retirement is gonna be AWESOME! And Eudora gave me a jar of pearl jam to take home – I can’t wait to try some on toast!
Well, you know who goes the distance to bring you in-depth examination of ancient cultures and ancient people, and fuck them for two weeks? ME, that’s who! And now you never have to wonder about this ever again – I’ve done all the work for you. Well, I say ‘work’ but it was anything but! “Hope I die before I get old”? Are you kidding me? I’d like to walk up to Roger Daltrey and punch him right in the dick. If this is how it’s gonna be, I never want to fucking die!
Edward Hotspur
That’s it! You must CLICK THE LIKES. MUST CLICK THEM! The likes LOVE to be clicked!
By the way, I am compelled to mention that my opponent, whose nickname for his penis is ‘Red Solo Cup’, is Clowny Clown Clown! Persnickety curmudgeon! I linked to him up at the top too. Don’t judge.
(My penis smells like old people. In fact, you know that scent commonly known as ‘old people smell’? Yeah, they just had sex.)
Here is a gift to my Clown friend in honor of his competitive spirit and crap like that. Mister Clown Person, gentleman and worthy opponent, I hope you like this Calogero song.






















What an in depth and…ummm…Yeah, I have no more words. Well played, of course. Much to look forward to? Ugh..never mind.
This is what we all have to look forward to. Group sex with no fear of disease or pregnancy!
If ANYONE defiled my Beloved David Beckham, I will steal their goddamn AARP card, I swear it!
“No holes barred”- ewww.
Is that you on the bicycle?
No, I was getting them more towels.
*Side Note* I cannot WAIT for you to win Blogger Idol!
I will not presume to do anything but hope I win. But, as always, it’s a pleasure to be nominated.
Oh my god – I laughed. And then laughed again….that was freakin’ awesome. Riding to Uranus, a personal favorite… my husband’s band had a song called “Going to Uranus” – it made me sentimental….or maybe just mental…
Glad you liked it, and that you had something you could identify with.
I’m a fan of the documentary “The Lifestyle” – I couldn’t resist the topic with a geriatric twist
Whatever happened to the Geriatric Twist? It’s now the Mash.
Who doesn’t like a little ditty with some mash?
Not to mention, the bangers.
One day at a buffet tex-mex
A senior suggested group sex
Come back to my place, you can sit on my face
If not I shall curse you some hex
A grandmother named Buttercup
Gently putting her teeth in a cup
With me was impressed
And while getting undressed
Said “You’ve fallen but still can ‘get up’!”
Well done, Hotspur, well done! This might be the best Friday in September to date!
It’s in the top 3 Fridays of all time in September 2012!
hee hee…
Edward,
A worthy shot. I see myself like one of these wonderful folks in like what… 3 years? Thank God I have iron gonads of thunder fire.
Le Clown
It is only too bad that you did not feel worthy of facing me yourself. Also, that you had to fudge the link on your blog to divert attention away from this post. I understand – desperate times call for desperate measures.
Edward,
Is it the wrong link? Sorry, I’ll correct this. And I trust my Carnies. How can I not watch and let you take a beaten by a woman. Man, I love their ova of steel. Scratch that… their iron gonads of thunder fire.
Le Clown
As if you didn’t know. This was disappointing – as though I was Zorro anticipating a duel with Don Rafael Montero, but instead facing this opponent:
Edward,
Nah, I didn’t know I screwed. But do I care I fucked up? Not for a minute. Link or no link to your post, it still won’t make a difference. And here, have my sympathy vote. Come on, you can do it… The carrot is almost yours….. Not it’s not.
Le Clown
Looks more like a baby carrot. ZING!
Edward,
Oh. You’re making peens jokes now. Ok…
Le Clown
The joke is in your hand.
Edward, aren’t you used to people being afraid of your awesomeness?
Scaredy Clown.
EMBRACING my awesomeness. Gravitating towards it, as one would go towards the light after copious amounts of geriatric group sex.
They make a pill for that gonad thing, LC.
Guapo,
You’re right… They usually take two Tylenol after the visit of my gonads.
Le Clown
*Two cyanide.
Eddie,
Cyanide and Happiness go hand in hand. BAM!
Le Clown
After a tryst with you? D’accord.
Did you like the song, at least?
Edward,
It’s a sweet song. I’ve seen a few music posts on your blog. I think that’s another thing we have in common: music. It will be nice to exchange on this topic.
Le Clown
I agree. With only Celene Dion to your credit, you must be music starved. Lol
Or a pillow.
You go great with my first cup of java and my chocolate doughnut thanks for to much info
My grandmother was in a nursing home for a while. Really glad she did before I could ask how she spent her time there…
Lemonparty’s got nothing on this escapade!
You probably thought “what a waste”
Soooo looking forward to retirement home!
I know, right?
I shouldn’t like my competitor’s post, I know, but…hot damn those were some fucked up pictures. I loved it.
Call me sometime. I know you like old lady fun bags, and mine are nearly talking at my waistline.
My wife is so hot, though. I’ll be lighting a fire and drinking some wine with her, so romantic…..
Any way I can get in on that?
I believe it is illegal to light people on fire, but I will check local legislation and get back to you.
Wow. 13 likes, including myself, my two teammates and two pity likes from the opposition. If anyone thought I had a big ego, allow me to present Exhibit A for: No, I don’t.
I am surprised you didn’t use a picture of this old gal in your post but I can see I had some pretty stiff (haha) competition to beat (haha) out. Come on (haha) it’s supposed to be funny!
What old gal?
me lol
No, seriously.
Where do I even begin?
You are an old soul, so you must already be having old sex…
She is only too old when you can’t tell which wrinkle leads where…
When you ask her what she is into and she says ‘depends’, that is not an offer at romance, she is talking about her extra absorbant undergarment…
That lady winking at you just had cataract surgery…
No still means no even if they forget they said no immediately after they said it…
She didn’t go straight for your junk, she thought it was the handle of her cain…
No, once again that is not an offer to ‘get frisky’, she just forgot to put her dentures in…
Yes, if you hide their walkers, they will indeed follow you anywhere…
Good job, Ed. You are the man.
I’m A man. Not necessarily THE man.
Have it your way…
Now please edit that comment… I meant ‘cane’… not ‘cain’… I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me… or you…
I will do it when I’m abel.
cain… abel… you kill me…
I have to admit I am sort of proud of my comments for just coming up with all those on the spot.
Hotspew Dachshund,
It’s 3:30P’ Eastern time. You are nowhere close to Jen’s magnificent post. She owned your ass. I am making her Queen of Fucking Everything. If by pure magic you end up beating her today, i will buy you a unicorn.
Le Clown
I am selling my blog and retiring to Florida.
Eddie,
Yay!! Bath salts!
Le Clown
I’m sorry I got here so late. Silly kids wanting to get home from school and all.
It’s sad how many pics up there look better than me.
It’s sad that I got more likes on the post where I announced I was a Blogger Idol contestant than on this post. I should have just posted a link to Lemon Party.
I would have voted for you sooner, but I was out scalloping today.
MMMM. Scallops are delicious. Did you get any?
We should be ever so thankful for Viargra. Eww. Also, thank you for explaining the thing with Eastwood and the chair.
You’re welcome. Clint has a different story, but you know how these things are.
Ew!!!!!!! This was hilarious. I can’t figure out if I just wasted those few minutes of my life reading this, or if it was totally worth it. I’m leaning towards totally worth it.
No, you can’t get them back. But look on the bright side – if you slip into a state where you have to stay in a home, you get to have a lot of fun.
I’m looking forward to my future children refusing to take care of me!
Me too!
Oh my goodness Nicole. We keep some strange, strange, did I say strange, company. Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you won’t.
Don’t we?! Oh, I won’t tell.
Who is this strange company you keep?
I’m speechless. No wonder I felt compelled to confess that Leonard Cohen touches me. Geez. Corruptor.
(not exactly what I had in mind for lesbians. but okay.)
Did you tell Mr. Cohen to stop?
What are you crazy? No way, Jose! (Did you listen to “I’m Your Man?” He knows how to treat a lady right.)
Hilarious. I loved all your pics. What research! Extremely well done.
Thank you. If only anyone else shared your opinion. Good taste can be a curse sometimes. Lol