Keep Calm and Carry On

I need to start taking care of my bollocks.

Now, I know many of you are thinking that most men need to take care of their bollocks. And you'd be right. But I really need to take care of them. As in, not wearing tight pants and suchlike.

See, it's possible (nay, even probable) that I may soon be using them in the purpose for which they are designed.

Breeding.

I pause for collective apoplexy.

My friend wants a baby. She was going to go to the sperm bank and pay for some frozen stuff - but I offered my services instead. The more we talked it out, the more feasible the idea became. She wants a baby. I want descendants. And I only have to be as involved as I want to be...

Sounds like a plan with no flaw, doesn't it? We're just waiting for her to become fertile again (cos she's just come off the contraceptive injection) before we start trying to get her pregnant.

Of course, I'm not actually going to have sex with her... We're going to use the turkey baster method. I make love to a cup, she makes love to a huge syringe.

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it.

We've even picked out names.

Now - I need you people to tell me I'm making a huge mistake. Because from where I'm sitting, I just don't know.