Monday, 28 January 2013

Chapter 25: It's a girl

This is the conclusive chapter of this "blog-book". It would be a shame to start from the end. Like watching Doctor Who from the last series backwards. Please go to chapter one, and start as you should start any book and have some self respect. Thank you for visiting.

Chapter @% (25): It's a girl

Mr BooHoo sat on the toilet and took a long wizz, looking between his thighs at the rising steam caused by the difference of temperature. We keep calling him a "he", not because we are following some silly stereotype about the superiority of our dick-owning fellow humans but because at the beginning of our little narrative it made much more sense to have a character named "Mr" than "Mrs", or "Miss", or "mademoiselle" and also so as to avoid some stupid stereotypes associating moodiness with vaginas. Truth is he is most probably a penis-loving little lady. Not that he does not instinctively follow with his gaze the first round bum or a nice pair of jiggling titties when they pass in front of him but he became aroused more easily with the feel of a firm "disco stick" ( says it is a valid synonym for penis). So "he" was going through a semi-violent attack of pms that made him want to organize everything in nice, square shapes and separate things by color and function. He also felt he was a very confused girl. Career-wise things were "undefined", monetary things averted him, no good jobs as somebody's employe were available and sometimes he thought he might want a baby. Perhaps this thought might have been planted by his gynecologist. Perhaps there really is a stupid-clock-thing about maternity.
 He knew, with certainty, he wanted to eat a banana and chocolate spread sandwich. He thought this was a sign of clouded judgement.
 Mr BooHoo sometimes dreamt he had a baby. In every dream something absurd went wrong. When he thought well about it he considered all the things he wanted to do before he became a mother. You already know his mother issues from a previous chapter. But he took rather good care of his dog, his little house and his partner. And things were going slow anyway. Yet, he did not really have any free time to himself and if  he made a baby he would have to sacrifice some of his important occupations. This, he found scary. And still he thought about it more than he would like to. The thought was there and as if this was not enough he was in the middle of a baby boom. Some of the people who were having children were actually nice. They had potential of bringing nice people to this world. The world of motherhood had a strange charm for him. Raising a child should have some very nice moments too. But what about adolescence? How the fuck do you get by with a child during puberty? He or she should disagree with you so that you know it is starting to think for itself but what would you be prepared to argue about and still tolerate, love and admire the other person? And what about him? Sometimes mothers stop being themselves and become somebody's mothers. Why did he want it so much?
 So there you go. I'll leave you there, dick in hand, because this story has huge resemblances with reality, even though all characters and incidents are fictional. You have it : a story of unsuccessful living.     

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