Charles Wilson looked at his despised wife of thirty years and sneered. Marry in haste repent in hell, he thought. At age fifty, she had lost her looks, libido, and charm. He respected his marriage vows however and was resigned to his lot.

"Darcy, when I'm eighty, I intend to get a twenty year old mistress and have the time of my remaining life."

"Balls!" retorted Darcy. "When I'm eighty, I shall get a twenty year young chap who goes like the clappers. And, twenty goes into eighty a lot more times than eighty goes into twenty. Chew on that!"