life imitates blog
At the risk of becoming a single-issue blog, I'll relate something weird a couple of friends said over the weekend.
Again, it has to do with the issue of fertility. Heh. Issue.
Anyway, these friends (A & G), after playing around with their 1-year-old, having a nice dinner, and watching Sex & the City (a show which is beginning to grate on me, since the characters are all, well, grating), after some conversation about fertility issues, extended the following strange offer:
As we are now farther away from the PA Medical Foundation now in San Carlos, our friends have offered their house for me to masturbate in, to be that much driving distance closer.
What are friends for?
What freaks me out about this, more than the personal space issues this conjures up (not to mention blurring lines of what is appropriate behavior in someone else's house, for God's sake) is that Mer doesn't think this is in any way strange. Almost as if it's completely normal for me to drop by someone's house early in the morning, have a few moments to myself in a broom closet, and bid a fond adieu, one collection cup richer.
I'm the Bizarro milkman.
My own frickin' doctor was wondering aloud whether the bathrooms at the PA MF were conducive to autoerotic activities, as if they had set aside a particular stall for that particular purpose. Ah, yes, it's the Medical Foundation Memorial Glory Hole.
At least I can still mentally masturbate in peace.