Yesterday I was able to order my trigger shot and my sperm in less than an hour. That was an improvement over last month!
Every time I order sperm I feel like Kenny Rogers on the album cover of “The Gambler,” cards in hand, fancy lady glancing over my shoulder. Do I order one vial or two? Should I rush the delivery, or bet that I’ll ovulate when I always do? Who’s on the other side of my table? A big healthy egg with some stranger’s sperm glancing over her shoulder in a tuxedo? Or is it a clock in an evening gown? Who is the guy who “gave” me the sperm anyway?
I went with Lefty — hey! he’d fit right into my version of the Kenny Rogers album cover with that name– for this and next month, despite my lovely commenters’ advice. I had yet to receive the long profile when I made the order. I got the long profile later in the day. I don’t know if we’ll go with him at all. For me it is mostly because he’s only 18. I feel vaguely like a child m0lester, even though I’ll never even see the guy, most likely. I’m two years younger than his own mother! A wasn’t impressed with his profile either. Let’s hope Lefty steps up this or next month and I won’t have to gamble again. I don’t actually know when to walk away or know when to run. I also tend to count my money while I’m sitting at the table. Perhaps I should ride the rails more often?