seagull 1979
Praying for points
Alright I think, 4 kids including 4 month old twins... Plus I've spent 20 years cooking them slowly in a professional kitchen.
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sydney
tinky ****in winky
the irony of it ....52.6% of women in the uk are on the pill ...ha ha ...haha ,,,open season you may think but nop no no because 80% of that synthetic hormone gets flushed down the bog , don't blame the french and the spanish cos there aint no fish in the sea ...it's your fault , for growing out of your cum sock...!!
Shropshire Seagull
Well-known member
My sperm count is a big fat ZERO - being due to a vasectomy 21 years ago on the completion of my family.
kjgood
Well-known member
Going swimingly thanks
Shropshire Seagull
Well-known member
I thought I'd be a spent force if I cycled up there, fresh from self-pleasure. And arriving to hand over my sample caked in sweat might lead them to believe I'd been in the disabled toilet for the last sorry and desperate 45 minutes.
I can imagine the container cracking, and wringing out a trouser pocket into a new container held by a foxy lab technician, the sample containing trouser fluff and Halls menthol fragments.
I say foxy lab technician as that is who emerged from a Stars in Their Eyes style smoke as the lab doors opened and out she came, open-handed, and with a knowing smirk.
If it were BUPA, the said foxy lab technician would give you a helping hand, shirley?
Bold Seagull
strong and stable with me, or...
According to Stanford University, snipped men have sex on average 5.9 times per month compared to 4.9 times for men who have their vas deferens intact.
The problem is that it will die in transport. Better if you can deliver in person.
Nigella's Cream Pie
Fingerlickin good
Literally?!
Well yes.
Amen!
Three inc 7 month old twins. I feel your pain.
pastafarian
Well-known member
Shouldnt you be on some sort of register with that level of deviance?
sydney
tinky ****in winky
how do you have a 0.9 er ...........oh...ok...!
I thought I'd be a spent force if I cycled up there, fresh from self-pleasure. And arriving to hand over my sample caked in sweat might lead them to believe I'd been in the disabled toilet for the last sorry and desperate 45 minutes.
I can imagine the container cracking, and wringing out a trouser pocket into a new container held by a foxy lab technician, the sample containing trouser fluff and Halls menthol fragments.
I say foxy lab technician as that is who emerged from a Stars in Their Eyes style smoke as the lab doors opened and out she came, open-handed, and with a knowing smirk.
I had no choice but to cycle there - public transport would have taken too long and I'm not sure a cab would have been much quicker. Well, I could have disappeared into the gents at the hospital I suppose but standing in a bog at some run-down south London hospital, bashing the bishop, didn't strike me as one of life's highlights. And I had no foxy lab technician, I handed the sample over to a middle-aged hatchet-faced crone.
But then, I could supply the sample from the comfort of my home with the, er, valuable assistance of Mrs Gwylan
sydney
tinky ****in winky
sydney
tinky ****in winky
no i've got hundreds....i want a pic of yer bint...
HastingsSeagull
Well-known member
Oh yes the famous BUPA Shirley, always worth a donation
Gabbafella
Well-known member
- Aug 22, 2012
- 4,907
Last test I had was after my vasectomy and it came back as I'd hoped, 0% swimmers!
Never wanted kids and thankfully don't have any either so everything is 100% normal here.
Never wanted kids and thankfully don't have any either so everything is 100% normal here.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
Ok, you've prompted the non-concussion sperm test anecdote.
As mentioned, I was in Spain. On this occasion they asked to take both a blood test and sperm test, back to back, if that term doesn't sit too uncomfortably in this topic. I rightly, I think, blame the hole in the left temporal for not absorbing language efficiently, and for my brief efforts to grasp Spanish not paying off, but it is at times like that appointment that I am sort of glad I don't know what is being said. Now, the error I believe they made, initially, is to try and take the blood first. This, of course, was not from gentleman Meade, but I have rather deep lying veins in the arms, so the first nurse I had couldn't find one to stick the needle into. She said, don't worry, I shall try to take blood from here, pointing the syringe at my knuckle area. I thought, aye aye, that's a tad unusual, but unaware of general health service processes in Spain, perhaps this is the done thing. I realised it wasn't when, after feeling the needle scrape across a knuckle or two, it snapped in my hand. Hmmmm. Wait here, she said, plucking the half-needle from the back of surprisingly untwitching hand, I will go and get another nurse...And please hold this cotton wool over the mini-gash (she didn't say that precisely in those word, but, you know).
Another nurse came along, who didn't speak any English, and did some feeling and pointing in my other arm, to let me where I was about to be pricked. She found blood, correctly, but then asked me to go immediately to the clinic's clammy fiddle chamber number 1, with an unusually large pot. The issue I had at first with this was that I had one hand covering the wound on my left knuckle area, and the other hand holding down the meager puncture on the arm blood was successfully taken from. What, precisely, was I supposed to use in this muggy cupboard to bring about the pleasure necessary to even slightly leave a deposit!? I'm not a flexible chap, or gone through Prince-esque surgery, or hung like a caballo. I had not words, or courage to resist, so into the windowless boudoir I went, and sat on a sticky seat for about 15 minutes before getting into action.
Anywho, in that murky lair were the following:
a pile of perhaps 4 or 5 Spanish jazz mags
a television that was off
a sink, with small towel
and a huge mirror that dominated a wall
These are not my main masturbatory ingredients. The filth pamphlets were of one variety: teen. The television had a remote control for it, but I am not going to press through the numbers on such a device that may still be uncomfortably warm from the last worn out user, and I don't want to click on, for instance, channel 17 at such a place and be caught stuck on a dolphin blowhole rape movie. The sink was fine, really, but it was the mirror that seemed most incorrect (apart from channel 17). I am in small enclosure, feeling grubby and without any self-respect, and there I am, having to watch my hand move feverishly for 7 minutes (yeah, right) to produce the sample required. It wasn't pleasant view out of the corner of my eye no matter which way I turned.
In the end, with the gluey sample in pot, I left the room and they led me to a small slot to place the container on, and that was that. I walked back out, saw the girlfriend and begged for us to be out of there as quickly as possible.
Probably doesn't seem very interesting to anyone but me, really.