Salutations, Swimmers!
Was perusing my university-related emails the other day to see if the groundskeepers had caught the two Dugites—large, dangerously venomous snakes—that had made their way into the Science block (when you study Toxicology in Australia, you *really* study Toxicology) and whether the cute lab tech I have my eye on will be in my class again this week (the way he handles a moist Sea Cucumber makes the dullest zoology lecture into a Sean Cody porno—I never thought I'd be jealous of an echinoderm) when I came across the following request in my inbox (emphasis added by me):
"Male Students needed for a study investigating factors that influence semen quality:
* You will be asked to collect a semen sample at home and drop it off in Animal Biology
* You will be asked to complete a brief questionnaire about your health and lifestyle
* All responses and data are confidential
* The study will take approximately 1 hour of your time
*Note: participants must be heterosexual, caucasian and aged between 18 & 35"
-Spermatowhooa?!!!
Believe me, I know my semen. I practically have a PhD in the stuff—not all of us Forensic scientists are interested in *blood* splatter. I'm not graduating "Cum Laude", I'm graduating "Cum Chugge". And now some labcoat is having a Pale Ale Party and I'm not on the guest list? This is like UNICEF holding a panel discussion on Childhood Bedwetting and not inviting the Boogeyman.
Also note that as well as being breeder-biased, the study only allows Whitey to bust a nut for scientific endeavour. Again, this strikes me as odd, given that people in Africa, China and India are not exactly in danger of being mistaken for the front row of a concert by The Cure (my Goth readers are chuckling heartily over that gag, I assure you) and based on the latest population statistics, they don't appear to have had any problems in the ol' swimmer surplus department either.
Clearly then, this so-called scientific study of semen that isn't interested in sperm that isn't from Manly Men or The Man is a front.
I reckon it's some kind of Neo-Nazi plot to produce an army of Aryan superbabies so aggressively heterosexual from birth that they'll refuse to stop breastfeeding, so that Aussie dads won't get a look in or a leg over for years, and our nation's birthrate will plummet. Suddenly Hollywood snatching up all our virile young actors and making them put on American accents in their stupid movies (STAR TREK reboot excepted) makes a sinister kind of sense. Somebody tell Dan Brown—THE SPERMICELLI CODE will be in cinemas by the end of the year.
I also wonder why sperm donors are encouraged to drop off what they've shot off at the Animal Biology Department rather than the rather more obviously appropriate *Human* Biology Department. Again, maybe it's the 24-hour X-FILES marathon and sleeping with Oliver Stone (he insisted on taking me from behind, "back and to the left"), but I sense a conspiracy. What if Doctor Moreau never died at the end of the movie at all, but moved to Australia to continue his twisted animal/human hybridization experiments? This could lead to the chilling future sight of hideous dingo/hominid mutants roaming openly across campus, instead of just sticking to the Law Building like they usually do.
Incidentally, I had a sex dream about Casey Freeman the other night. That's neither here nor there in regards to this Seminal Secrecy Situation, although it certainly did wonders for my own personal sperm production, if not my laundry bill. I'm sure that Casey would be thoroughly appalled at the naked, sweat-soaked things we did together in dreamland, although he'd probably be delighted to see that Mekaneck was in no way a barrier to him achieving all manner of fun, anatomically-dubious positions, like a limber little sex pretzel.
Queer sperms are potential people too!
