Masculinity test

So after two years of giving it the best of British the time has come when her maj has decided that I need to get my swimmers counted. For most of us chaps this brings a gasp and our testicles hit our tonsils at the thought of being a non-man, I mean we're men how can we fail to produce off-spring? The sad reality is that in 2013 a lot of us can't due to the food we eat, the stress of modern day life, and the fact that many decide that a perfectly good way to spend our weekends is sat on a rock hard saddle and peddle our little hearts out for several hours thereby crushing, bending and slapping our bits. Yes chaps one in four of us might not be as manly as we like to believe.

So the fateful day came. Off her maj went to work and left the specimen jar and a list of not exactly romantic instructions. "See this? point your bit at it, shoot your load into it, and make sure you get it at body temperature to the lab within an hour." Simple right?

Well first things first you have to fill out the form and the jar with your details and sign a declaration that you haven't so much as looked at the missus in five days. With that you're ready to go. Now where to do the deed, don't want to mess the clean sheets up so its off to the lav you go and sit on the throne. Your body at this point thinks you are there for another form of relief and lets a few liters of methane escape. Great start, not. So now to get excited. Suitable reading material? not so much as a dog eared Readers Digest to find something remotely erotic in. This could take a while.

Finally after almost reinventing fire and having the onset of friction burns your bit springs into life and realises its time to play ball. Now you're going full steam ahead and grab the specimen tub only to find that a woman has obviously created this test as a practical joke as the tub is the width of a pin head and you have to shoot a load at it. They obviously forgot to include the instruction that army snipers need apply for this test. And kaboom you fire Apollo 11 into the tub but get half of it over your work pants and shoes and hand, fuuuuuuuck!

Now the clock is ticking on your hour so as quick as you can you wash up, change shoes, change pants, kick the dogs out, put the pot in your top pocket and throw on a skiing jacket to keep it at body temperature and you're off. Into the car, heaters on full bore, and cue the Italian job driving exhibition. Into the car park at the hospital, a quick sprint into the labs packed waiting room sweating bullets and are greeted by a nurse "can I help you Sir?" hardly able to muster a grunt it is apparent what you are there for and she acknowledges this "oh you have a semen sample sir, give it here please, yes that looks like a good sample" and promptly puts it under her arm while "taking down your details". With that you pay your money and leave totally stripped of any pride and go on your merry way.

Five days later you get the news, plenty of swimmers, just the wrong ones, you just don't have enough of the fertilising ones, oh shit time for fertility treatment.......