It doesn't matter what you smell like, feel

It doesn't matter what you smell like, feel like, look like, taste like, sound like, or act like. While I'm in one of those moods, if you make eye contact, it's

nine months to Babytown, population: You, Me Jr., and my child support checks. I spend much of my time on bodybuilding forums, where I say "spread my seed" with impunity. My mood

is improved no end when one of my harem announces that she's pregnant again. I can't help it because the sperm is strong within me. My name is Dave & I'm the Daddyman. I spend most

of my time bragging about my strong sperm in an effort to hide the fact that I'm a buxom female named Dave. At least now I know the breeding science experiment succeeded.

But my sperm is really strong, really strong. Each of my sperms can bench over 300 pounds. They drink muscle milk and have gym memberships. Their seminal goal to to become so

strong that they're a contender for the heavyweight title of roughest toughest sperm in the universe. One sperm I'm training, Smegity Sam is as big as a tadpole, able to leap tall

fibroids with one swish of his flagellum tail. Smegity Sam was the smallest sperm of the group, but his tenacity was impressive. As his coach, I taught him how to invade Ova's

, no-one noticed their plight. "We are here, We are here, WE ARE FRAMED!" the patsies yelled from their eensy prison. After a while they discovered that they could easily escape

the misery by drowning themselves in cell made liquor. The Whos all died of liver failure, and Horton was lauded as the best detective in Manatee county.