It was my cursed need for knowledge that led me to where I am now. I have lain in bed these past three days hence, hiding from the horrors that have befallen my eyes. Images so gratuitous, that they will remain forever embedded within my psyche and which no amount of therapy or bleach, will ever remove.
For my investigation into the matter of coition, I had fully intended to make use of the national information infrastructure, or as I believe many of you commoners like to term it, ‘The Internet,’ in order that I may research the proposition of two opposite genders coming together, to copulate and sire the progeny of their loins. Unfortunately the wizened old crone who otherwise goes by the mantle of ‘mother’, muttered something about having to delete her browsing history first, which I gathered might take some time.
No matter, I would have to discover the subject at hand via the old time traditional method of ‘reading a book’. And so perusing through the shelves of what passes as reading material in my home and finding some dubious themes, (I didn’t even know there were 50 shades of grey) I happened upon a tome entitled ‘101 Questions Children Ask About Sex That Parents Are Too Chicken Shit To Answer.’ Despite the coarseness of the title, I had finally found what I had been searching for.
With the book of carnal knowledge tucked firmly within my grasp, I headed to my bedchamber, bypassing my mother’s boudoir from which I could clearly hear her caterwauling some insipid tune…something about wanting to be hit once again by a small child. I believe the singer’s name is Britney Lance, or was it javelin? Anyway, it was something to do with some sort of throwing instrument but that is not essential to this tale.
Upon finally reaching the confines of my chamber, I settled down onto the downy softness of my bedding, ready to browse through the leafy layers of my newly acquired literature. Confounded! What nonsense was this? All I could govern were questions of such puerile nature, that surely any simpleton such as those reading this very blog, could have discerned the answers. For instance, ‘How are babies made?’ Was one such fatuous question. The answer to that is simple enough, copious amounts of alcohol, loose morals, even looser underwear and a distinct lack of self respect, answers that particular line of inquiry.
There was also, ‘How does the baby come out?’ Well that’s obvious. Via the mouth. The mother belches and the baby flies out through the opening. Fools! Other questions posed by this so-called educational thesis, ‘What happens when the baby is born?’ He suffers a life-time of bitterness and regret. ‘What’s a penis?’ Shouldn’t that be, what is a pen? Incompetent morons. And ‘what is a period?’ For goodness sake! Everyone knows that a period is a time unit subdivision of geologic time defined as a span of years, into which the lager era time units are divided into smaller time-frames. Why is that question even in a book which is purportedly to be about the practice and subsequent consequences of coitus?
And that’s when I stumbled upon images of such unimaginable horror, that I at once sought to gouge out my retinas with the aid of a wooden spoon. Here is my responses to the following pages. “Surely that can’t be what an actual vageena looks like. Egads! It looks like a kitten that has been garotted and then had it’s throat sliced open! Oh my, what a cumbersome beast. No wonder women are always in such a foul mood having to carry that thing around in their undergarments!!” (Turns pages) “Oh an inside view.” And here I’ll have to admit, is when I started to feel a little light headed. When I got to what looked liked an instrument of death but was in fact a pennis, (Good god! It looks like a maggot wearing an overcoat) my vision began to blur. And when I finally viewed an actual illustrated scene of copulation, I was quite amazed that I hadn’t fainted…I had blacked out long before then. And so here I am, deep beneath the covers and hiding from the monstrosity that is the adult body and the terror of just what coitus entails. Good day to you all and may your genitals blacken up and drop off for practising such lewd behaviour.