“So was this a surprise, a dad at 63?”
If you watch the video through to the next segment, the issue is explored in more depth. “What are the ethical issues around parents having kids so late in life?”
Married elderly males have been fathering children for millennia, married gay males for about 15 minutes. Yet, the ethics of the latter are apparently settled, while the former are still a matter for debate. Odd, that.
And divers other manifestations of reasons for…
The accelerating decline of Mother Corpse, radio version
…
Host Sook-Yin Lee achieved a truly great moment in postmodern irony. She asked some nice old black guy she was interviewing whether he considered her a lady. He replied that he certainly did unless evidence otherwise came to his attention, for instance that a woman was, say, truly sexually loose. Ms Lee ragged him about this for some time (what a hoot) knowing full well that the fellow did not know this: “Sook-Yin Lee Funny Porn Movie Shortbus”…
Florida closes the door on Jim Morrison’s penis.
“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to watch Glee” *
Columnist apologizes to governor hopeful.
They still allow trampolines in Britain?
(Indeed – it does sound a lot like a Pride parade float.)
And you thought you had a rough week.
They only bite in self defence. Make of that what you will.
The MTV camera crews were in the process of filming what was described as “grown men wearing fur” who were dancing around the sculpture as it shot the “white fluid” into the air.
An issue Carolyn Bennett can really chip her teeth into.
Related: As winter approaches, new hope for a nervous Sweden.
(Next on the research horizon: wings for flies)
Triggered memories in the comments:
I’m having a PTSD moment.
When I was in high school, my sister had a pet bunny called Hershey. He would ambush me every morning as I stumbled, half-asleep, blurry-visioned and vulnerable, down the hall to the bathroom to have a pee, and, despite my increasingly frantic and determined evasive maneuvers, he far too often succeeded in locking his little paws around my ankle and lightning-humping one or the other of my bare and defenseless feet, leaving me to start the day feeling violated, defiled, and mildly disturbed, with warm bunny sploo between my toes.
Why didn’t you just wear slippers, you might ask. Well, I tried wearing slippers, but found that the shameful effluent was easier to fully rinse from a naked foot than to remove from a fabric or sheepskin slipper. Further, the bunny gunk had a distinctive and lingering odour which I found strident and unpleasant – might merely have been associative, but the aversive quality of the smell was, for me, very real – and I always felt that a phantom whiff of it hovered around even the most scrupulously cleaned slipper, and so many otherwise perfectly good slippers were discarded for a perceived rabbit-jack miasma during that trying time.
To this day, whenever I smell rabbit semen, I am transported back to that dimly-lit hallway and the confusing and stressful period during which I was treated as a masturbation aid by that predatory, conscienceless, nasty little lagomorph.
HealthyPenis.org.
Don’t complain you weren’t warned.
The world needs no more Canadian attitude:
…
Hey look: Holbrooke’s getting a new temp
On Xplicit XXX
But we don’t give them two battalions of French troops and a road map to Russia.
