The Proof Is In The Pudding

VASWRECKTOMY PART 4

The proof is in the pudding is an old proverb that was popularised three hundred years ago by Cervantes in Don Quixote. Of course Cervantes had no way of knowing that pud would be slang for semen in the 21st Century.

Welcome to the wacky world of analyzing post-vaswrecktomized men known as Sementology.

This proverb implies that you won’t know whether food has been properly cooked unless you try it. For recently vaswrecktomized men, it means that you won't know if you're shootin' blanks until they examine your pudding.

Like most of you, I had no idea how this sticky subject would be handled.

This form letter attempts to explain ..

Now the first obstacle for the man is to determine how one goes about manufacturing a sample without breaking your marriage vows. Hmm?

If your good-lady-wife happens to be unavailable and miles away, this means that an ethical dilemma presents itself.

Rather than fantasize about another woman and perpetuate an act of mental adultry, a husband would need to recall a romantic encounter in vivid detail in order to procure the act of self abuse and produce a sample for the friendly staff at Wank & Hoff Laboratories.

Unfortunately the romantic antics of most married couples tragically succumb to the pressures of modern living and after a few years the incidence of chandelier swingin' monkey-love becomes more sporadic.

As Milton Berle said, ''You know, my wife and I have sex almost every day of the week...Yes, almost Monday, almost Tuesday, almost Wednesday.."

If such lustful thoughts of the act of procreational marital bliss are not readily available, then a stimulating visual aid of video/photographic library of your spouse...some husbands receive tastefully staged yet awkwardly executed "boudoir" gifts at Valentine's Day. Naturally these momentos cannot be displayed, EVER, and most end up in a box in the basement or after an acrimonious divorce, on the Interweb labelled with a disparaging remark.

Therefore the average monogamist, isolated from the helping hand of his one true love and bereft of the aforementioned titilating erotica, must man-up and make the dreaded call.

He must phone his wife at work and explain to her that he is being forced to entertain improper lustful thoughts about another woman for a few seconds in order to complete an important medical procedure.

He must calmly explain that the solitary frightful act of beastiliness is for the greater good of the relationship. Some short term pain for long term gain sort of nonsense. He will promise her that it will only happen the one time, that it won't mean anything, and that he won't enjoy himself.

She'll prolly say "Oh for gawdsake" and hang up..which in his mind is her roundabout way of conveying her acceptance. Yes! You are now cleared for takeoff...lift off in 10..9..8..

15.8 seconds later

Many of you may be unaware that extra precautions are now taken in order to guard against theft of the collection sample. The main threat are semen-addicts such as the the single mother of 6 children who recently underwent in-vitro fertilization and had a litter of octuplets!

She and others plagued with her condition would obviously do anything to get their hands on some more nice, warm, sperm. Wank & Hoff Laboratories have now made it company policy that all samples must be flown in by helicopter.

The helicopter ride to the Clinic seems to take forever but believe me, you will need to use this time to think about how you will maintain your composure when you deliver your swimmers to the dour disapproving harridan at the reception desk.

Hopefully the media won't show up at the drop-off like they did at the procedure

..the horror...the horror.

What will the receptionist think of you...she knows exactly what you've been doing within the last 30 minutes and will no doubt heap burning coals of shame upon your soul!

"You filthy, disgusting, selfish, little, pig!"

"Place your container of wasted baby making fluids in the box..say hello to Satan when you roast in hell you animal!"

She then hands you this poster.



After returning to the deafening silence of your empty home you will probably experience remorse, guilt, and shame. To alleviate these feelings, carefully scrub your swimsuit area with bleach, iodine, and steel wool.

Now it's time to contemplate how you will make it up to your longsuffering spousal unit. Especially since this entire procedure must be repeated next week!

Try to remember that you made this sacrifice so that you would enjoy the freedom, whether tepid or torrid, to engage in limitless encounters of spontaneous, guilt-free, acts of state sanctioned carnal pleasure.

You did it for Love...and the proof, is in the pudding.