Posted 1/22/2009 05:34:00 PM by Douglas

Here's an example of why the obituaries in the Telegraph are freakin' gold. Meet Sir Dai Llewellyn:

Good-looking in his youth, with dark Welsh curls, his success with women was famous. He claimed, in his heyday, to be in the habit of going through Queen Charlotte’s Balls “like a dose of salts”. He insisted, though, that he “never got up in the morning and thought, 'I’m going to screw three girls today’.” But: “If it happened, it happened.”

His seduction methods were direct and somewhat lacking in refinement: “I am not one of these oily Italian method-pullers,” he said. “Thirty years, and I still can’t undo a bra. The only trick is that I do not waver. I know what I want and so do they.”

Sounds like a blast, doesn't it? But how did this chap entertain himself during the daylight?

Quite what Llewellyn did by way of a career was never entirely clear.

Boy, that sounds a whole lot better than working your whole life like a stooge. But what does a playboy like this have to say about his first time?

He made up for lost time when he went to study Philosophy at the University of Aix-en-Provence. There he lost his virginity to an older, American woman “who smelt so disgusting that it put me off doing it again for several months”.

Ewww! Americans are stinky!

This sums it up pretty good:

He never grew up. On a visit to South Africa aged 60, he claimed to have fallen through a bedroom floor into a cellar while “attempting to roger a girl called Nettie”, the girlfriend of a friend. “I wish I could tell you this was an isolated incident,” he told a journalist.

This about this when your alarm goes off in the morning.

Labels: Telegraph Obits