2003-09-14 - 4:49 a.m.
Whack On, Whack Off
I've been up for hours scouring the 'net looking for work. I applied to a couple places, and I just filled out a form to sell my semen. Well, hey, I'm trying to find jobs in my field. This is a job I have all the qualifications for. I'm not a smackhead or a circus freak, I'm young and tall and educated, and I've never slept with a man (that's one of their requirements). I can do this job, I spent many years in training. Just pass me the cup. And, fuck, donating sperm pays better than my last job.
I'm actually kind of sorry I filled out that form, though, now that I think of it a bit more. I mean, what if they don't accept my spunk? What a blow to the ego it must be if your sperm is turned down. "We're sorry, we find you to be of inferior stock and don't believe any amount of marketing will convince a prospective mother to fertilize her eggs with your sub-par genetic material. Why not try the Arby's down the street? I hear they're looking for a guy to clean the lettuce."