We’ve been trying to have another baby for about a year with no luck.
So, even though I did one over two years ago (some of you will remember the Sperm Count of Doom,) it’s time for me once again to pick up the ole cup and rub one out for the team.
That however doesn’t happen until Friday.
Until then I’m supposed to retain my precious bodily fluids.
The problem is, that all through my marriage my wife has been like my right hand. And, when she’s not around, my right hand has been my wife.
I’m pretty much a six orgasm a week sort of guy, and have been since I was sixteen.
If I deny myself, I get kinda ornery, if you know what I mean.
I’m sitting here at the desk in my office wearing my light summerweight pants, and now I can’t get up!
I guess there’s something to be said about Maria Bartiroma opening the market. Damn those CNBC chicks are hot!
I’m sitting here with a diamond cutter.
The last sperm count I was “low normal,” but I have an excuse, as I had an emmission the night before.
Nevertheless, I can’t allow such an insult to my manhood be repeated, so I’m following directions and saving it all up.
I wonder if that sample glass will be big enough.
I feel myself becoming mean, aggressive, and confrontational. I know it all, and nobody can tell me anything, and anybody that gets in my way better watch out!
All the mellowing out that’s happened with me in the last 15 years is being swept back like a sand castle before the tide, and I’m reverting to a primitive testosterone based life-form.
I feel 18 again!
At this rate I’ll be 12 by the time Friday’s Lunch time comes around (so to speak.)
Stay away from me. I’m going sperm mad!