February 27, 2009
A former Nigerian newspaper cartoonist, Sanya Ojikutu, recently invented the ShareBuds Ms 2-in-1 stereo Earphones that will allow two people to listen to the same song on an iPod or an MP3. I do not know why two people from this selfish and individualistic generation will want to do something that stupid. But Apple is selling the machine for $39.95 a piece. Ojikutu is well on his way to buying his own piece of land in Abuja without dealing and wheeling with a corrupt minister and compromising himself in the process. The whole thing got me thinking about my own invention as a means of acquiring my own piece of land in Abuja. After all, in my former life, I was an engineer.
So here is my plan: You know the way you walk into a pharmacy, go to the blood pressure machine, fold your sleeve, slide your hand into the machine, press the red button, watch as the cuff tightens around your arm as you wait for the machine to read your blood pressure. That is the kind of machine I am thinking of inventing for checking sperm counts.
Yes, it has come to that.
For those who live outside the Western world, this may be a problem that has not reached the bedroom near you. But all across the Western world, the sperm count of men are falling faster than the stock markets. It has gone from 60 million a pop to 20 million a pop. In the days of our fathers, when men were men, sperms used to come out over 120 million a pop. The drop in sperm count is so bad now that fertility clinics are swamped-men donating sperms are crushing those testing to see what their spe rm counts are.
Even though a man needs just one sperm to fertilize an egg, a man needs to produce millions of sperms to have a chance that one will get the girl, sorry, the egg. When Lou Dobbs, Minute Men, Rush Limbaugh and their anti-immigration collation finish building the wall along the U.S. border with Mexico, Mexicans will have the same chance of making it into America as those millions of sperms fighting to fertilize the egg. The sperm dilemma is actually the basis of the Christians code about the journey to heaven, ‘many are called but few are chosen.’
Did I see you squirm? Were you not a sperm? Were you not the one that made it to the egg first out of several millions released in one pop? Apparently, you have forgotten how you swam faster than the rest. Relax, buddy. Whatever is happening in your life today, you are already a winner. You defeated over 60 million other folks in the most important race in life – to be alive to watch a sick Yar’Adua govern sick Nigeria while healthy men cut hair by the road side; watch a barefooted Biafran ragtag solider kick a Sandhurst decorated General off Washington Monument; and to watch former Miss Nigeria become the tenth concubine of Olusegun Obasanjo. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever let the burdens of this life put you down. Chances are that over a billion sperms perished in the course of your making. So cheer up.
There are varying reasons why sperm counts are falling. Some say it is in the water. Some say it is in the air. Some say it is in the food. Some say it is in the kind of underwear men put on. Long ago, Scottish man, Adam Smith, said men must go back to wearing kilts. Briefs are bad, said Clinton. Boxers are bad, said Bush. Satin slips are highly recommended, said Obama. Slips, by the way, are often called ‘shimmy’. But nobody seems to know where to buy slips these days. The Salvation Army stores do not carry it anymore. I checked all stores along I-95.
Some say the U.S needs a president with more than two kids to confront the problem. It has been a long time the United States had a president who could produce. Some glass ceiling shattering lots say why not a president who has no balls. Scrotums are so yesterday, they screamed. It is all the fault of men. They do not listen. They do not ask for direction. They do not ask questions. When women were in trouble, they initiated a campaign to tackle their problem. They recruited the vagina, televising its monologue around the world. No man listened to the scrotum monologue, even now when its voice is screeching like the wheel of Chris Brown’s car after the bite.
Everyone, however, agrees that the problem with sperm count is part of the side effects of the bigger environmental degradation that came about as a result of industrialization. It is part of the waste industrialization left behind. Wastes like magi cubes, Dunkin Donut, candy bars, crack, deodorants, tight jeans and soda. Whatever the cause is, men are carrying about sacks of scrotums that can no longer produce sperms. This phenomenon is becoming a worldwide embarr assment.
Alarmists like Maureen Dowd are predicting that sooner than later, men may not be necessary. Some sperm banks are busy buying up sperms and storing them in super cold rooms for use centuries from now. Mind you, they separate sperms in three categories – those from Ivy League graduates, those from regular college graduates and others. I wonder in which category George W. Bush’s sperm would go should he donate. Right now, Bush is hoping to be hired as a greeter by the Wal-Mart near his house in Texas. When he is finally turned down, as we are sure he would, you bet he would have no other option but to go and donate.
When the last man produces the last drop of sperm, every other birth will then come from women inseminated with sperms bought from the sperm banks. You thought crude oil was expensive last summer, wait until you know how much a drop of sperm would cost then. If I were you, I would begin a massive investment in sperm banks. Take your money away from collapsing brick and mortar banks=2 0and put them in the cool sperm banks. That is the world to come. Smart people like me are beginning to prepare for those days.
In the meantime, many men need to know what their sperm count is. Many who are working hard to conceive need to know when the count is large enough to embark on the enormous task of shooting the millions of slimy sperms across the Red tunnel into the Hanging tube and down the bla bla bla channel.
And that is where I, Dr. D. J. Damages, come in. This bright idea of mine will not only create lives, it will also save marriages. Yes. In case you have not noticed, one of the reasons why divorce is high is that women are tired of men who walk around with sacks of scrotums that produce no sperms. They rather live with Richard Simmons, their spokesman said.
I want to design a machine that can help men out in this crisis - a kind of a bailout machine. I want men to be able to walk into a pharmacy, go to a Dr. Damages sperm count machine, pull their pants down, slide their thing into the machine, press the red button, watch the cuff tighten around their thing and wait for the machine to read their sperm count.
Unlike the blood pressure machine, my machine will give customers receipts. This is important because if a man’s count is high and he needs to rush to his wife’s job and pull her out for an immediate dash to the nearest bed, he needs something to show the wife’s boss at work.
“I am at my peak,” the man would say to his wife’s boss, dropping the receipt on her boss’s desk, “I need to borrow her for three to five minutes.”
You never know, some good bosses may offer their desks=2 0in exchange for being allowed to stay around to see how it is done.
Wanna check your sperm count?
So here is my plan: You know the way you walk into a pharmacy, go to the blood pressure machine, fold your sleeve, slide your hand into the machine, press the red button, watch as the cuff tightens around your arm as you wait for the machine to read your blood pressure. That is the kind of machine I am thinking of inventing for checking sperm counts.
Yes, it has come to that.
For those who live outside the Western world, this may be a problem that has not reached the bedroom near you. But all across the Western world, the sperm count of men are falling faster than the stock markets. It has gone from 60 million a pop to 20 million a pop. In the days of our fathers, when men were men, sperms used to come out over 120 million a pop. The drop in sperm count is so bad now that fertility clinics are swamped-men donating sperms are crushing those testing to see what their spe rm counts are.
Even though a man needs just one sperm to fertilize an egg, a man needs to produce millions of sperms to have a chance that one will get the girl, sorry, the egg. When Lou Dobbs, Minute Men, Rush Limbaugh and their anti-immigration collation finish building the wall along the U.S. border with Mexico, Mexicans will have the same chance of making it into America as those millions of sperms fighting to fertilize the egg. The sperm dilemma is actually the basis of the Christians code about the journey to heaven, ‘many are called but few are chosen.’
Did I see you squirm? Were you not a sperm? Were you not the one that made it to the egg first out of several millions released in one pop? Apparently, you have forgotten how you swam faster than the rest. Relax, buddy. Whatever is happening in your life today, you are already a winner. You defeated over 60 million other folks in the most important race in life – to be alive to watch a sick Yar’Adua govern sick Nigeria while healthy men cut hair by the road side; watch a barefooted Biafran ragtag solider kick a Sandhurst decorated General off Washington Monument; and to watch former Miss Nigeria become the tenth concubine of Olusegun Obasanjo. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever let the burdens of this life put you down. Chances are that over a billion sperms perished in the course of your making. So cheer up.
There are varying reasons why sperm counts are falling. Some say it is in the water. Some say it is in the air. Some say it is in the food. Some say it is in the kind of underwear men put on. Long ago, Scottish man, Adam Smith, said men must go back to wearing kilts. Briefs are bad, said Clinton. Boxers are bad, said Bush. Satin slips are highly recommended, said Obama. Slips, by the way, are often called ‘shimmy’. But nobody seems to know where to buy slips these days. The Salvation Army stores do not carry it anymore. I checked all stores along I-95.
Some say the U.S needs a president with more than two kids to confront the problem. It has been a long time the United States had a president who could produce. Some glass ceiling shattering lots say why not a president who has no balls. Scrotums are so yesterday, they screamed. It is all the fault of men. They do not listen. They do not ask for direction. They do not ask questions. When women were in trouble, they initiated a campaign to tackle their problem. They recruited the vagina, televising its monologue around the world. No man listened to the scrotum monologue, even now when its voice is screeching like the wheel of Chris Brown’s car after the bite.
Everyone, however, agrees that the problem with sperm count is part of the side effects of the bigger environmental degradation that came about as a result of industrialization. It is part of the waste industrialization left behind. Wastes like magi cubes, Dunkin Donut, candy bars, crack, deodorants, tight jeans and soda. Whatever the cause is, men are carrying about sacks of scrotums that can no longer produce sperms. This phenomenon is becoming a worldwide embarr assment.
Alarmists like Maureen Dowd are predicting that sooner than later, men may not be necessary. Some sperm banks are busy buying up sperms and storing them in super cold rooms for use centuries from now. Mind you, they separate sperms in three categories – those from Ivy League graduates, those from regular college graduates and others. I wonder in which category George W. Bush’s sperm would go should he donate. Right now, Bush is hoping to be hired as a greeter by the Wal-Mart near his house in Texas. When he is finally turned down, as we are sure he would, you bet he would have no other option but to go and donate.
When the last man produces the last drop of sperm, every other birth will then come from women inseminated with sperms bought from the sperm banks. You thought crude oil was expensive last summer, wait until you know how much a drop of sperm would cost then. If I were you, I would begin a massive investment in sperm banks. Take your money away from collapsing brick and mortar banks=2 0and put them in the cool sperm banks. That is the world to come. Smart people like me are beginning to prepare for those days.
In the meantime, many men need to know what their sperm count is. Many who are working hard to conceive need to know when the count is large enough to embark on the enormous task of shooting the millions of slimy sperms across the Red tunnel into the Hanging tube and down the bla bla bla channel.
And that is where I, Dr. D. J. Damages, come in. This bright idea of mine will not only create lives, it will also save marriages. Yes. In case you have not noticed, one of the reasons why divorce is high is that women are tired of men who walk around with sacks of scrotums that produce no sperms. They rather live with Richard Simmons, their spokesman said.
I want to design a machine that can help men out in this crisis - a kind of a bailout machine. I want men to be able to walk into a pharmacy, go to a Dr. Damages sperm count machine, pull their pants down, slide their thing into the machine, press the red button, watch the cuff tighten around their thing and wait for the machine to read their sperm count.
Unlike the blood pressure machine, my machine will give customers receipts. This is important because if a man’s count is high and he needs to rush to his wife’s job and pull her out for an immediate dash to the nearest bed, he needs something to show the wife’s boss at work.
“I am at my peak,” the man would say to his wife’s boss, dropping the receipt on her boss’s desk, “I need to borrow her for three to five minutes.”
You never know, some good bosses may offer their desks=2 0in exchange for being allowed to stay around to see how it is done.
Wanna check your sperm count?
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