ANXIETY HELL

When in a pinch and seeking to get something done through the age-old art of bribery, I often find myself offering up my first-born hermaphrodite. I’ve yet to procreate and truthfully have no desire to, but I’m aware that if I don’t get busy soon, I could be facing a class action lawsuit filed by sterile, equal opportunity, wanna-be parents.  

Usually, my offers are met with scornful looks and head shaking, to which I want to reply, ‘Careful there, Hitler, one in one thousand babies has a confuse-a-clit, and with those kind of odds, you could be insulting at least two people within a fourteen square mile radius (A+ in geometry, thank you very much) – given that they have a cochlear device like the Miracle Ear.’ What kind of bastards eschews not only the transgendered, but the deaf(ish) trangendered? What kind, indeed.  

I am almost always offended by this blatant shunning of nature’s puppy surprise. (You remember the jingle: How many sex organs are there in side? There could be three or four or five.) It just really gets my goat. I mean, it’s not like I’m putting a free car wash on the table.  I’m not saying, ‘Oh, if you’ll just agree to hire me, I’ll give you a free prostate exam in the back of my windowless van.’ I am bribing you with that singular precious gift that we should all be so lucky to name Pat or Leslie or Clay. Nothing says “thank you” like a baby with extra gonads. Nothing! I expect a little gratitude for my generosity. Or so I thought… 

This part has been temporarily removed for its blatant offensiveness. Check back later.