Ok, so I took some MORE time off, did not watch any regular
or cable TV, no going out or any fun stuff to report but, I
think I have definitely entered the Twilight Zone.
I mean come on. For Crying OUT LOUD! Cry baby conservatives
are at it again. I can't even watch tv. They are every where
like cockroaches.
Before I go on ranting and raving about how sad the state we
are in as a country, as a whole, collectively, in a state of
denial. Am I led to believe that it is now NEWSWEEKS FUCKING
FAULT!!! Let me get this straight. Newsweek reported that as
a form of torture, the Koran was desecrated by various nefarious
means and is NEWSWEEEKS FUCKING fault. OK you people are fucked
if you believe that one. Some dipshit took the time and wrote
the Chicago Tribune "voice of the people" section
the "new" borrowed ditto head mantra of "newsweek
lied, people died" Hmmmm, where did I hear that one before,
albeit a little more backbone to it, ohhh yeah. Now I remember..
I mean this dipshit took the time from his busy "life"
to parrot bullshit. I bet his mother was proud that he was able
to type it out.... I hear some other ditto heads say the same
thing, fucking lame.. Wait a minute I wasn't supposed to rant.
never mind.
My wife and I are trying to have another baby. Doing it the
natural way, is not going to work for us, so we have to do it
the hard way. Yes, in vitro fertilization, a test tube baby.
Remember Mork From Ork, with Robin Williams, it was
a Happy Days spin-off. He was a test tube baby, but
my boy is cuter... so there. But that is not why I am boring
you to death so far.
In order for all this to work the doctors want a full testing
of all our vitals, blood test, ultra sounds, physicals and ummm
sperm analysis. Which means I have to
toss off into a little sterile jar. So I have to sign in. OK,
easy enough. Fill out a form... name, wife's name, insurance
policy, etc. and what I am in for, so I check with a big bold
blotch, "sperm analysis". Easy enough. SO I hand the sheet
to the administrator behind the desk, she looks it over and
then asks me in a not so discreet way, "your here for a
SPERM ANALYSIS" she announces to the world. Did you bring
it with you, she asks me.... NO, thinking to my self, do I really
want to be walking around with cum in my possession... what
the fuck would I put it in for crying out loud. I shake my head
in the "no" direction. SO you are doing it here, she
asks... "Yes", I humbly reply.... "Follow me".
So we head back to the back room to the shack shack
closet. I noticed this room when I first came to this office.
It is right off of the secondary waiting room for patients getting
ultrasounds, blood work, etc... You can't miss it, its like
those shacks on the street corners that have porn proudly displayed
on racks for all those that "who don't get laid" to
see, but nice and clean.... Only a few notice me enter, a quick
glance up from whatever periodical they are reading, so far
so good....
She shows me where the rags are, Penthouse, Playboy and Hustler
(Go Larry FLint, alllllright!) and those soft core "mens"
magazine, the ones with all the adds for shit you don't need.
So I want to get this over with, but there are now like 5-8
people on the other side of the door, talking and sounding like
they are in the room with me. Ohhh jeez. Not in the mood, mikey....
I usually get hard when the wind blows but this is going to
take some time.... SO I pick up playboy, my bud works there,
gotta patronize the home team, maybe there will be one with
someone famous, or ones with college co-ed's, yum, yum. Love
nubiles....Shit these are all two years old already, what are
these, hand me downs or something? Or did they find them at
variious bus stops around Chicago?...
Shag away....
So, I find climax and release, into this cup that barely fits
around the head of my dick. "Don't touch the sides".
Yeah right, can't imagine those mule dick fuckers not "hitting
the sides", if my little white dick can't stop from hitting
it. POP, release, ahhhh, carefully squirt into lab bottle, don't
hit the sides, screw cap on, done.... not bad. a little over
20 minutes. OK, relax. I could walk out with the freshly fucked
look on my face or sit down and let the FFL disperse from my
face. Lalala....George W, Monica Lewinski, Ann Coulter... let
the swelling go down. Ok... Good, I could walk now without looking
gimpy. Put the bottle in my pocket. Walk out proud. Door opens.
There are now over 8 people, mostly women in the waiting area,
smirking all of them. "Was I that loud?" I was thinking to myself.
Just look forward, place the vile on the counter and all is
good. The female sperm doctor, some granola looking hippy in
berkinstocks is sitting behind the analysis "drop off" room.
"Sperm analysis", she asks. "Yes". I reply.
Ok, now this is ridiculous, I made a fucking appointment for
crying out loud. You have my papers with "sperm analysis"
checked, how many times are you guys going to ask me this. Plus,
I just placed a vile of jizz on the counter, what else would
I be doing here, this is a fertility clinic dammit, get with
the program....
So, she makes me fill out some more papers, lalala. Good. can
I go? So I head out, did my fatherly duty, get outside, nice
and sunny. Fuck. I left my sunglasses in the "room". This is
ridiculous....
I love my family.....
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