My job, though at times tedious, offers me an excellent opportunity to get in some reading.
In the last several days I've completed some interesting books including the Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen by Jacques Pepin, Cephalopod Behaviour by Hanlon & Messenger, Strings, Hands, Shadows: a Modern Puppet History by John Bell, the Book of Tiki by Sven Kirsten, Film Poster of the Russian Avant-Garde by Susan Pack, Quitting the Nairobi Trio by Jim Knipfel &
Analog Days: the Invention and Impact of the Moog Synthesizer by Pinch & Trocco.
Each of these books ties into one of my current project in one way... cooking fascination, screenplay, different screenplay, home decorating, visual film deisgn, current thoughts on precious sanity, and my soon to be career as keyboard cowboy.
All of these books were well written, informative, a joy, and fascinating. But today I learned something even better.
Ladies: sperm have wars in your vaginas.
It's true.
If you have unprotected sex with two men their sperm will actually don Roman battle armor, with their choice of gladius or trident and start going at it Coliseum gladiator fashion trying to kamikaze each other the fuck up. Then these hundreds of millions of hardened spermy Storm Troopers will participate in a dirty Charlton Heston Ben Hur style through the mucuosy obstacle course of champions located in that delightful protrubence known as the cervix.
So you can actually turn a naughty threesome into a Clash of the Titans style epic located in the underworld of your own nether regions. I'm jealous. And birth control is like the hacker rigged black box that enables you to not have to be charged by the cable company for pay per view.
One Ova to rule them all, One Ova to find them, One Ova to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
Ahhh... the wonders of biology.
In the last several days I've completed some interesting books including the Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen by Jacques Pepin, Cephalopod Behaviour by Hanlon & Messenger, Strings, Hands, Shadows: a Modern Puppet History by John Bell, the Book of Tiki by Sven Kirsten, Film Poster of the Russian Avant-Garde by Susan Pack, Quitting the Nairobi Trio by Jim Knipfel &
Analog Days: the Invention and Impact of the Moog Synthesizer by Pinch & Trocco.
Each of these books ties into one of my current project in one way... cooking fascination, screenplay, different screenplay, home decorating, visual film deisgn, current thoughts on precious sanity, and my soon to be career as keyboard cowboy.
All of these books were well written, informative, a joy, and fascinating. But today I learned something even better.
Ladies: sperm have wars in your vaginas.
It's true.
If you have unprotected sex with two men their sperm will actually don Roman battle armor, with their choice of gladius or trident and start going at it Coliseum gladiator fashion trying to kamikaze each other the fuck up. Then these hundreds of millions of hardened spermy Storm Troopers will participate in a dirty Charlton Heston Ben Hur style through the mucuosy obstacle course of champions located in that delightful protrubence known as the cervix.
So you can actually turn a naughty threesome into a Clash of the Titans style epic located in the underworld of your own nether regions. I'm jealous. And birth control is like the hacker rigged black box that enables you to not have to be charged by the cable company for pay per view.
One Ova to rule them all, One Ova to find them, One Ova to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
Ahhh... the wonders of biology.
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
This means unprotected sex with multiple partners can qualify as a form of birth control? This sounds like just the excuse a chick needs to totally slut it up.
Cool.
I want peace in my insides. No wars waged here.