But if you look at my office, or my bedroom, it’s a study in entropy. Whatever I’m concentrating on is usually nice and ordered, but everything on the periphery reliably degrades to merde. I also once put my shoes in the fridge while contemplating something else. And both of my most recent long-term ex-girlfriends tell me I have some symptoms of asperbergers.
Admittedly, all things considered, I must sit somewhere on the scale between eccentricity and outright madness. Outside of the obligatory depression and anxiety, I’ve never really considered myself mentally ill, but I suppose it makes sense to have a professionally-produced document to give the judge some sort of clue as to what he’s dealing with.
If I disappear suddenly, though, it may mean they’ve put me away. But don’t worry, I won’t be so stupid as to wear a pink shirt at any point in the near future.
Now, in answer to a query from a friend of mine:
Do sperms die if they’re not used? Or do they build up, increasing their numbers without limit? And, if so, where is this expanding reservoir of reproductive material stored? Do the testicles grow larger and larger as they are forced to harbour increasingly large amounts of flagellating microbes?
Well, the answer is elusive. People generally seem more concerned at how long sperm live outside the male body than within: including on hands, in washing machines and on toilet seats. Thankfully, sperm do have a limited lifespan within the male body. One source says 74 days. Another source says they take 65-74 days to develop. Another says that once they are ready they only last a few weeks, so lets say about 80 days from start to finish. But there are cells, stem cells I would guess, which are constantly shedding off new infant sperm - these cells, I gather, live as long as their host and if they die he becomes sterile.
So, here's a picture of something eldritch which was generated by the mind of a young boy whose mother, Susan, is a friend of mine.
Till next time.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
My lovely, though sometimes worryingly anaemic psychologist is arranging for me to have a 'neuro-assessment'. It’s a legal thing, but it might be interesting. I do like to count things. For instance, and for your edification, I eat 12 strawberries, 5 dates and 5 prunes daily, together with many other things in precise amounts. When I exercise - which I must do to avoid shrivelling - I presently do 18 laps of freestyle, 4 of breaststroke and smaller numbers of kickboard etc. Whenever I address a task, I try to control it with numbers.