Self-deprecation, and why I suck at it.

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Please, don’t expect this to be funny. I’m not a funny person. Nope. I mean, my mother thinks I’m funny. At least, she says that to me. Well, I’m carrying her genes and all, so I’d expect her to encourage me. What kind of mother would say, “Look, son, remember those days when you flipped gourmet burgers at Pickadilly? You had quite a knack for it. Maybe you should consider placing the word-smithing on the warming shelf while you concentrate on perfecting that Hawaiian burger.”

I should walk away from this. In fact, I should jog away because I’m a fat fuck. Yep. My back hurts too. What did I expect? I sit here staring at this monitor eight hours a day. I say “staring,” but it’s more like straining my head muscles in an attempt to focus my failing eyes. Can’t see shit. These reading glasses don’t help much, mostly because they’re old and dirty. I’m too damn lazy to clean them. There’s a greasy smudge on one lens right now because I tried to wipe a scooger from my eye, and poked the lens with my greasy finger. I’m a human oil slick.

This coffee sucks. It’s bad for me, but I’m fucking addicted, so I’m about to go downstairs to my overpriced espresso machine and make another. “Have a tea,” my healthy yoga-mat-toting friends say. Tea sucks. I’m not drinking fucking tea.

I say “fuck” too much. I’m fucking sorry. Jesus. It’s because I’m an uncreative pile of bile. Maybe it’s my way of coping with my miserable existence. Or, I use swearing to scare those closest to me away from me, so they don’t ask me for a fucking loan. Sorry, again.

I don’t have any fucking money, anyway. I have no self-restraint. Seriously. How do people delay gratification? It makes no sense to me. Shit. I could die! What if I die before I get a chance to do that thing I always wanted to do? That would suck. It would serve me right, I guess since I’m an asshole. I never learn. Just bought a fucking Jaguar. Just what I fucking needed–a 4-digit car payment. Stupid. Won’t get me laid either. Oh, sure, some female friends (who won’t sleep with me) insist that it’s a panty dropper. Sure, maybe for some handsome young men. I’d need to do laps around a nursing home, and still wind up home alone spanking my meat to awful porn.

Maybe that’s why I can’t see: I jerk off too much.

(Be right back.)

Disgusting. I wonder if women beat off as much. Probably not. Guess this could be a diet plan. How much does the average ejaculate weigh? (Hold on … off to Wikipedia.)

  • Average volume of semen per ejaculation: 2 to 6 ml (0.41 to 1.22 teaspoons)
  • Average number of calories in a tablespoon of semen: 2-7
  • Average duration of orgasm: 8 seconds
  • Average number of sperm cells in the ejaculate of a healthy man: 40 million to 600 million (avg. 250 million)
  • Distance sperm travels to fertilize an egg: 7.5-10 centimeters or 3-4 inches
  • Sperm lifespan: 2.5 months from development to ejaculation
  • Sperm lifespan after ejaculation: 30 seconds to 6 days depending on conditions

Damn! Some interesting goo right there. Then again, I’m very easily amused. You’re probably grossed-out. Sorry. Still, this doesn’t say how heavy my average load is. If I were the resourceful type (I’m not), I’d weigh myself, beat off, weigh myself again, and use grade school math skills to subtract the two, and come up with the answer. But, I’m too lazy, and it will probably take me another 2.5 months to generate a measurable load.

I need a nap. I sleep too much. Rich people don’t sleep so much. They work. This is why I’m fucking broke.

*zzz*

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About the author

Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.