Tuesday, December 15, 2009

She Tires of Birth Metaphors

Why is it that whenever you have the terrible literary blue balls, like you are totally about to do it but then the teenager (inside you) buttons up its pants at the last minute and nobody gets to finish, that the day after that is always the most insanely productive day? All the thinking sperms come out then I guess, each with its own speech balloon.

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