About Me

I assume you want to know about me, stoogepie. Why else would you have clicked on the about me link?

Okay, maybe you didn’t know what the icon was. It is a DNA strand. Get it? About me? DNA? I came up with that icon after writing this about me section. I wrote this introductory section last. It all seemed to make sense at the time.

Anyway, back to me. Let’s talk about me.

I assume you want to know about me, stoogepie.

Well, let’s start at the beginning. I was made, as some people are, during a good, rigorous fucking, after which a sperm found an egg. Egg, meet sperm. Sperm, egg. It was all a matter of chance, really. Well, it’s not really fair to say it was all chance. The chance of a sperm meeting an egg does not increase no matter how rough and intense the fucking, even if there is a lot of sweat and skin-on-skin slapping sounds and that fart-like sound that vaginas sometimes make on the upstroke. That doesn’t change a thing, but saying that it was all a matter of chance nonetheless diminishes the effort of the people present during the event. Also, there was booze involved.

Although this was an important event in my childhood, I don’t actually remember the meeting of the sperm and the egg. I did mention that there was booze involved, right? So, all of this is second-hand. But here is a picture.

That’s me on the left. And the right.

So, after sperm met egg, I multiplied and multiplied. The irony here is that, some years later, I have made a habit of not multiplying. It’s something of an obsession, really. But, in those youthful days, I was far more reckless.

I had so much power in those early days! Not only was I able to multiply with endless abandon but, get this, I was so powerful that I could stop a woman’s period at will. Now, that’s power! Menstrual power! If I could do that today, I would be very popular. Well, in fact, there are ways that today I could contribute to stopping a woman’s period, but, like I said, I’m not about that.

And in those days I could, at will, make a woman ill. That became something of a habit in those early days. Every morning, sick as a dog. I have since experienced, on some occasions, that feeling once more of having a woman next to me wake up and grow nauseous at the very sight of me, but it seems different.

All of this raw, awesome power evaporated some months later the very moment I was born. Not only couldn’t I control any woman’s bodily functions, but I could not even control my own! I was tiny and weak and hideously misshapen, with a bulbous and enormous head and only the tiniest sliver of a dick. I would shit and piss on myself all the time. And, as though this degradation were not disgraceful enough, my mother — who could have fed me anything because I couldn’t say a fucking word and I was powerless to feed myself — made me live off whatever nasty discharge oozed from her engorged boobs! Oh, the humiliation! And she wonders why I never come over? I’m afraid that I will appear for dinner one night and she’ll try to feed me from one of her drooping tits, that’s why!

You know, this is taking a very long time. I mean, I have written a lot already, all of it very personal, and all I have covered is conception and birth. There must be a way to shorten this. I find myself asking, “What would Jesus do?” I know! I’ll skip everything after conception and birth and jump right into some years into full adulthood!

I will describe my present life in order of priority. Today, one of the things I do a lot is breathe. I catch myself doing this all the time. On some occasions when I have realized that I am breathing, I have tried to count the number of times I breathe each day. But I always get distracted by something, so I have never gotten a complete count. I have gotten up to about twenty. I breathe at least twenty times each day. That means that breathing is my most frequent daily activity, narrowly beating out daily attempts at masturbation.

Listen, there is just too much to tell here. Maybe I can fill in the gaps in the actual blog. Why the fuck do you want to know anything about me anyway, again?

Okay, I have it. I can let you know everything about me in one fell swoop. Below is a DNA sample. It contains pretty much everything there is to know about me. You could use it to figure out how smart I am, what sort of interests and aptitudes I have, how tall I am, what color my eyes are, how big my dick is, everything. So, there you go.

Enjoy. It’s no imposition at all to provide you with a DNA sample. In fact, I give them out all the time, especially when I have a cold or after a few drinks.

Anyway, now you have the means to know everything there is to know about me. I don’t know what the fuck I can write about now. You should probably just go to some other blog. Really. Move along.