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  1. #31
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    Quote Originally Posted by seagull 1979 View Post
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    Alright I think, 4 kids including 4 month old twins... Plus I've spent 20 years cooking them slowly in a professional kitchen.
    Three inc 7 month old twins. I feel your pain.

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    • #32
      Members pastafarian's Avatar
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      Quote Originally Posted by ofco8 View Post
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      Mine can't be too bad. Knocked out 2 kids in fairly quick succession!!!
      Shouldnt you be on some sort of register with that level of deviance?
      Jazz Festival n. The purchase of two or more Noddy books at one time.
    • #33
      tinky ****in winky sydney's Avatar
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      Quote Originally Posted by Bold Seagull View Post
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      According to Stanford University, snipped men have sex on average 5.9 times per month compared to 4.9 times for men who have their vas deferens intact.
      how do you have a 0.9 er ...........oh...ok...!
      FLOUNDERING...!!!
    • #34
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      Quote Originally Posted by Meade's Ball View Post
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      I thought I'd be a spent force if I cycled up there, fresh from self-pleasure. And arriving to hand over my sample caked in sweat might lead them to believe I'd been in the disabled toilet for the last sorry and desperate 45 minutes.

      I can imagine the container cracking, and wringing out a trouser pocket into a new container held by a foxy lab technician, the sample containing trouser fluff and Halls menthol fragments.

      I say foxy lab technician as that is who emerged from a Stars in Their Eyes style smoke as the lab doors opened and out she came, open-handed, and with a knowing smirk.
      I had no choice but to cycle there - public transport would have taken too long and I'm not sure a cab would have been much quicker. Well, I could have disappeared into the gents at the hospital I suppose but standing in a bog at some run-down south London hospital, bashing the bishop, didn't strike me as one of life's highlights. And I had no foxy lab technician, I handed the sample over to a middle-aged hatchet-faced crone.

      But then, I could supply the sample from the comfort of my home with the, er, valuable assistance of Mrs Gwylan
      Brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio
    • #35
      tinky ****in winky sydney's Avatar
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      Quote Originally Posted by Gwylan View Post
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      I had no choice but to cycle there - public transport would have taken too long and I'm not sure a cab would have been much quicker. Well, I could have disappeared into the gents at the hospital I suppose but standing in a bog at some run-down south London hospital, bashing the bishop, didn't strike me as one of life's highlights. And I had no foxy lab technician, I handed the sample over to a middle-aged hatchet-faced crone.

      But then, I could supply the sample from the comfort of my home with the, er, valuable assistance of Mrs Gwylan
      pics...
      FLOUNDERING...!!!
    • #36
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      Quote Originally Posted by sydney View Post
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      pics...
      You want a pic of a phial of semen?

      Brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio
    • #37
      tinky ****in winky sydney's Avatar
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      no i've got hundreds....i want a pic of yer bint...
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    • #38
      Members HastingsSeagull's Avatar
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      Quote Originally Posted by Shropshire Seagull View Post
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      If it were BUPA, the said foxy lab technician would give you a helping hand, shirley?
      Oh yes the famous BUPA Shirley, always worth a donation
    • #39

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      Last test I had was after my vasectomy and it came back as I'd hoped, 0% swimmers!
      Never wanted kids and thankfully don't have any either so everything is 100% normal here.
      ''At times, Brighton looked so comfortable they could have been settling into an armchair with a nice mug of hot tea and a plate of biscuits.''
    • #40
      Members Meade's Ball's Avatar
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      Quote Originally Posted by Gwylan View Post
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      I had no choice but to cycle there - public transport would have taken too long and I'm not sure a cab would have been much quicker. Well, I could have disappeared into the gents at the hospital I suppose but standing in a bog at some run-down south London hospital, bashing the bishop, didn't strike me as one of life's highlights. And I had no foxy lab technician, I handed the sample over to a middle-aged hatchet-faced crone.

      But then, I could supply the sample from the comfort of my home with the, er, valuable assistance of Mrs Gwylan

      Ok, you've prompted the non-concussion sperm test anecdote.
      As mentioned, I was in Spain. On this occasion they asked to take both a blood test and sperm test, back to back, if that term doesn't sit too uncomfortably in this topic. I rightly, I think, blame the hole in the left temporal for not absorbing language efficiently, and for my brief efforts to grasp Spanish not paying off, but it is at times like that appointment that I am sort of glad I don't know what is being said. Now, the error I believe they made, initially, is to try and take the blood first. This, of course, was not from gentleman Meade, but I have rather deep lying veins in the arms, so the first nurse I had couldn't find one to stick the needle into. She said, don't worry, I shall try to take blood from here, pointing the syringe at my knuckle area. I thought, aye aye, that's a tad unusual, but unaware of general health service processes in Spain, perhaps this is the done thing. I realised it wasn't when, after feeling the needle scrape across a knuckle or two, it snapped in my hand. Hmmmm. Wait here, she said, plucking the half-needle from the back of surprisingly untwitching hand, I will go and get another nurse...And please hold this cotton wool over the mini-gash (she didn't say that precisely in those word, but, you know).
      Another nurse came along, who didn't speak any English, and did some feeling and pointing in my other arm, to let me where I was about to be pricked. She found blood, correctly, but then asked me to go immediately to the clinic's clammy fiddle chamber number 1, with an unusually large pot. The issue I had at first with this was that I had one hand covering the wound on my left knuckle area, and the other hand holding down the meager puncture on the arm blood was successfully taken from. What, precisely, was I supposed to use in this muggy cupboard to bring about the pleasure necessary to even slightly leave a deposit!? I'm not a flexible chap, or gone through Prince-esque surgery, or hung like a caballo. I had not words, or courage to resist, so into the windowless boudoir I went, and sat on a sticky seat for about 15 minutes before getting into action.

      Anywho, in that murky lair were the following:
      a pile of perhaps 4 or 5 Spanish jazz mags
      a television that was off
      a sink, with small towel
      and a huge mirror that dominated a wall

      These are not my main masturbatory ingredients. The filth pamphlets were of one variety: teen. The television had a remote control for it, but I am not going to press through the numbers on such a device that may still be uncomfortably warm from the last worn out user, and I don't want to click on, for instance, channel 17 at such a place and be caught stuck on a dolphin blowhole rape movie. The sink was fine, really, but it was the mirror that seemed most incorrect (apart from channel 17). I am in small enclosure, feeling grubby and without any self-respect, and there I am, having to watch my hand move feverishly for 7 minutes (yeah, right) to produce the sample required. It wasn't pleasant view out of the corner of my eye no matter which way I turned.
      In the end, with the gluey sample in pot, I left the room and they led me to a small slot to place the container on, and that was that. I walked back out, saw the girlfriend and begged for us to be out of there as quickly as possible.

      Probably doesn't seem very interesting to anyone but me, really.
      Milk, milk, lemonade
      Round the corner chocolate's made

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