The reasons why I, a 40-year-old single man, cannot date a woman aged over 27

I AM in the prime of life. It behooves women to understand, therefore, that I cannot date them if they are fewer than 13 years my junior. Let me explain: 

I’m young at heart

Unlike my peers, obsessed with their stock portfolios and their flourishing careers, I have a youthful, fresh outlook on life. Like a much younger man I go out, coked up, drinking heavily and leering: what all my friends ‘got out of their systems in 2006.’ How can I be with some old maid of 32, watching her embroidering while she descales her feet?

I’m not ready to settle down

Women over 27 want ‘relationships’ or ‘children’ or to be ‘more than just a booty call’. I prefer women who’ve never considered kids and dump them at the first tick of the biological clock. No babe’s trapping me in a loving, nurturing marriage and family. But also I won’t have a vasectomy.

My type is younger, hotter women

As we’ve got older, my mates have continued to fancy women their own age. Makes no sense. Biologically men are built to want to sleep with fertile-looking women, which means size eight glamour models in their early-to-mid twenties. Don’t deny me living as my authentic sexual self.

Half-your-age-plus seven

It was once English law that you were allowed to date only girls half your age, plus seven. We were a great country then. A women aged 41 came on to me the other week. Honestly it was grotesque.

They get me

These girls really are just on my level. Going on dates with a 30-year-old, it’s all arthouse film this, nice bottle of wine that. I’ve been dating long enough to know how it’s done. Nandos, Marvel movie and then back to mine to watch me play guitar until she agrees to f**k me if I’ll stop.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

How you're getting f**ked over in imperial weights and measures

THE government is to continue f**king you over, but in an arcane system of weights and measures it hope you will not understand. How it will work: 


Fruit will be weighed out in pounds and ounces, baffling Britons completely unfamiliar with weights illegal to even mention under the last 20 years EU rule. Unable to convert from the decimal system and overwhelmed with patriotism, buyers won’t notice the rocketing cost.


Why use clumsy millimetres when you’re governmentally-mandated to use the superior barleycorn, measuring 1/3 of an inch? Your shelves and walls will be crooked like old milliners’ cottages, and you will accept the corresponding candlelight and poverty calmly.


Petrol will be priced not in gallons, which the public are vexingly aware of, but in the more sensible pecks, bushels and quarters. It will take a quarter of fuel to fill your SUV, and cost two of your ragamuffin children indentured service of three years each.


A new taxation system based on the area of your home in perches and roods will entirely obscure the resulting massive tax rise. Anyone working from home will see their home reclassified as a workhouse, and handed additional unpaid labour accordingly.


All wages will be paid in £sd, using the simple four farthings to a penny, 12 pennies to a shilling, 20 shillings to a pound system, developed in 780AD and never bettered. You will have no idea how much your pay is or how much tax the bastards are robbing you of.


Inflation will continue to rise by the furlong, tonne, cubit, cable and nautical mile.