Day 8. 0 pages, 0 words.

I’m running out of tasteless ways to talk about my genitals, and that’s really saying something. Anyway, I got a letter from the lab the other day saying that the sample I’d given them hadn’t had any sperm in it. The diagnosis was “azoospermia”, although they didn’t exactly go into a lot of detail about how I was now good to go.

Come to think of it, the doctor’s diagnosis GOOD TO GO would have been all I needed.

Anyway, Mrs. Hatboy and I agreed that since the purpose of the vasectomy was to stop sperms from finding their way out of my nutsack, the lab result finding no sperms in my semen sample was a sufficient sign of “mission accomplished”.

So we’re just proceeding as normal, and if Mrs. Hatboy gets pregnant again I guess a whole series of hilarious hijinks will ensue. Including, but not limited to, paternity tests and doorstep baby abandonment.

In other news, the combination of Disney movies and Pokémon cartoons finally culminated in a toy-battle yesterday that went something like this:

Wump: George[1], use fire punch!

Me: Shepherd’s Pie[2], use ice shield! … Use laser horns!

Wump: George, use protection! … Use laser stomp!

[at this point, Wump flings herself onto me and stomps on my legs]

Me: Argh! Shepherd’s Pie, use distract so I can tickle Wump!

Wump: Wump uses smoulder!

[Wump hits me with a hilarious combination duckface and Blue Steel™, and I completely lose it]

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[1] Wump’s toy gorilla, given to her by Yorg, aka. George, from the afr-j Monkeyhouse several years ago when we met him in London.

[2] Wump’s toy sheep. We arrived at this name after a long weeding-out process, I deny all blame.