Celebrities Explain Why They Date Younger Partners

“The thrill of going to jail always makes love more exciting.”

“Emmanuel doesn’t have much going on upstairs, but he’s got an ass you can bounce a quarter off.”

“Blood. I need their blood.”

“My dick looks fucked up. Like, really fucked up. I need to be with girls young enough to have never seen a penis in person before, or they’ll scream when they see it. I mean, they do anyway.”

“My being several decades older than them will surely be the least of their problems.”

“I dated centenarians for so long that I guess I just wanted to try something new.”

“As I am the oldest person to ever live, doing otherwise would be impossible.”

“Look, I don’t spend all this time grooming teenagers to just not date them.”

“I like to have seen what they look like in diapers in case we have kids of our own together down the line. That way I can make sure the kids will be good-looking enough to date someday as well.”

“I actually only date people who are older than me. I’m 15.”

“Everyone my age is dead.”

“You’re just jealous I’m pulling hot blond 19-year-old corpses down here.”

“It helps me forget that in a few decades I will be nothing.”

“You’re right to be shaming people about this. Having sex with a much younger person is only interesting for the first three or four thousand times.”

“You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

“I understand the optics are bad, but it’s my only option.”

“All publicity is good publicity.”

“Like many of my brethren, I am a sexual predator, driven by my insatiable lust for young bodies.”

“What is age, really? A number? A piece of air? A slice of the mulberry pie of the world? When we limit ourselves to age we forget about the other nuanced features of the cosmos, from height to girth to the amount of eyes. When we reduce a person to their age, we forget about the inner bread of a person, the yeast inside their soul that grows and grows and grows, that mushrooms someday into a supple loaf of subconscious. Is 51 a much higher number than 24? Only if you look at it in terms of numbers, and not in terms of summer days, in soaring skyscrapers, in witnesses at a murder trial, in grains of the whitest sand. I ask you to open your mind, to ignore simple numerical separatives and to instead gulp frothingly in the wonderful cascade of the human spirit, to eschew the aberrations and defamations of incomplete and imperfect human beings who are just pursuing, as best they can, the same single truth: perkier tits. What? You asked.”

“It’s crazy to think that when Rita was just a baby, I was a slightly older baby. I know it’s sick, but I guess I’m just a sick, sick man.”

“Why do we do anything? Why do we wake up every day? Why do we dream? Why do we do the dishes, when we know they’re just going to pile up again the next day? The answer to all these questions: It makes my dick hard.”