The Guardian profiles Tony Curtis, who would like you to know he’s still very much alive, and he’s still had more sex than you could even dream about. Now 82, Curtis enjoys his golden years from a gated community outside Las Vegas. “His house, situated on the corner of a quiet street, seems surprisingly small,” writes John Patterson. “Once you're inside, though, it opens up hugely, and the living-room window is a majestic Cinemascope production, looking on to a small pool that in turn overlooks a golf course that stretches away into the desert distance. It rises to a low ridge that niftily obscures all the crappier suburbs of Vegas, leaving visible only the thicket of garishly coloured casino-hotels downtown. At night, this must truly be a million-dollar view.”
Curtis doesn’t get around as well as he used to, so his days of carousing the strip Rat Pack-style are probably behind him.
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