The Older Man’s Miranda Kerr

By Pearl Bullivant on May 9, 2014 in Other

It’s not often that I’m lost for pearls of wisdom, but OMG it’s been a busy month – zooming around on my purple yoga mat, jet setting between raw-organic-vegan food workshops in Eumundi and spiritual detox cleansing (and Senate electioneering) in Margaret River – I am totally in need of a shot of herbal serotonin.

Gabbled for words this month, I asked myself: do I follow Mike Carlton’s lead and write a hilarious piss-take on the bizarre antics of the weirdo who calls himself Prime Minister, or do I go all tabloid gossip columnist and spill the beans on the socialite who favoured spending Mother’s Day on a secret island with a rich media mogul over being served breakfast in bed by her designer kiddies?

As I meditated for inspiration and chanted over colourful auras, one name came channeling into my mind – Miranda! No, not my favourite comedian Miranda Hart, but Miranda Kerr, the esteemed guru of Zen moments, chakras, organic face cream and anything else that being a model qualifies one for (apart from boob jobs, botox, straw cowboy hats and inane tweeting); the woman whom I have more in common with than just a Camilla kaftan and an amicable divorce.

Miranda Kerr, the icon and prototype of all Eastern Suburbs Yummy Mummies, is already a successful published ‘author’, having written not one, but two ‘self improvement’ books designed for “young women all over the world” with “important lessons on self confidence, inner beauty and self acceptance”. But it’s not Miranda’s spiritual journey that has alleviated Pearl’s writer’s block, despite our shared interest in all things herbal. Rather, having recently gone nude for a Guinness Book of World Records attempt at skinny dipping, I’m far more open to being influenced by her ‘tell all’, Kama Sutra-style interview in GQ magazine, in which she appears scantily clad whilst bragging about her sexual prowess and preferences. Not normally one to brag, Miranda’s interview got me thinking: what red-blooded man in his sixties or seventies wouldn’t want to hear about Pearl as a sexual provocateur?

Like Miranda, I’m an accomplished artist who likes sketching women and, having spent many hours in life drawing classes in Eumundi with a bunch of hippy pensioners, I can also declare myself open to ‘exploring’ bisexuality. I, too, get chatted up a lot, but mainly while waiting for the 339 bus on pension day or getting “crazy ridiculous proposals” whilst bending over at Clovelly Bowling Club.

I haven’t achieved this taut, tight and terrific 69 year-old body by jogging and eating healthily. No, it’s sex that’s done it for me. Following Miranda’s lead, I can also say that “the more sex I have, the more defined my arms and stomach get”, so when I’m not attempting to lure Queensland mogul Clive Palmer, I’m rolling 70 year-old self-funded retirees on the footpaths of Vaucluse in an attempt to get a toned butt via some hanky panky in the nearby bushes.

Furthermore, all this flying to and from spiritual destinations across Australia has given me ample time to join the ‘mile high club’ when I’m bored and lonely in cattle class. As Miranda says, “I’ve had an orgasm in the air before. Alone. And together,” but being older, wiser and married three times I must declare that I have never had to resort to items in my carry-on luggage for a bit of fun!

Lastly old timers, my favourite fetish – hands! Yep, Pearl also loves “nice strong hands”, but arthritis free, of course. So if Rupert comes a knocking after he has finished with Miranda, I may have to confess that his old flame Wendy is far more to my liking!

Pearl xx