I have neglected this for a few days due to my complete imersion in Oblivion. Subsequently nothing noteworthy has occured. T- minus 11 days remaining of my 27th year on this planet. As is my custom during this time, I have begun thinking far too much, drunk on retrospection and vodka (though mostly the latter), and I have decided that with my biological clock ticking, I need a son/daughter more than ever. God, I want children, hundreds of them. Little versions of me and some slut too stupid to take a pill once a day (or to lazy to put one of those rings in her vagina, that seem all the rage with the kids thesedays). Why have I waiting so long to start a family? Will I ever get around to it now that I'm approaching 30? I t seems everyone my age has at least one kid, and one divorce under their belt, and they seem so happy. Soccer games, dance recitals, boogers, tiny sticky germ-ridden hands, touching everything. Will years of drugs and alcohol abuse make my seed unviable?
God I hope so. Sarcasm-o-meter reading- 9.7.
I am also one year closer to my first prostate exam. One step closer to a strange, highly educated man's index finger 2 knuckles deep up my asshole. Hope I don't get an erection. Or is it rude to stay limp during something like that?
End Transmission.
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