Kateplayground Stream

I can not be silent. The world needs to know I have gone along with the determined cross-General of being able to get pregnant.
As I commented in the past, dear reader, my beloved spouse and your dear and faithful servant, have revived the random cross-fertility. It is noteworthy that in this whole journey of hormones and hair, is a part that has been out of focus once you get the terrible news.
As far has not been the case, I must tell you dear reader, the arduous process of artificial insemination. So how would my grandfather Pancho Pistolas: Va tale! It all starts

General to begin to monitor to see how they have developed their follicles. Let me instruct you dear reader, that this word does not necessarily correspond to what we have in the scalp (or that's what I thought), is also where follicles develop women's eggs or something.
The fact is that the Doctor of the General whom we call The Gladiola, thoroughly studies the development of these follicles. Check your size shape and other things that really do not understand and I think you'll do neither. At one point she bet (and on the racecourse) on one of the developing follicles and my hubby prescribes different types of hormones to grow this or clean that.
This last time and no water goes, I ordered Gladiola next day should take my sample of semen (not her, I alone should be clarified), to insert in The General "ipso facto." It turns out that the multinombrados follicles have the same erratic temperament and his owner decided to break earlier than expected.
The feeling I had at that time, was what I imagine was Ernesto Zedillo when they killed Luis Donaldo Colosio poor and so no water goes, he said, "What do you think Doc? Going to be president.

Although I did what was in my power to dissuade the floral gallery, I could not and as you know I'm not daunted by the surprises, I acted like males merititos ... and there I was.

What we've seen on television programs or movies about this time that men have to do something, to take lie ... well we like, but not in a very controlled environment, not is that it's worse.
The den that touched me, is very similar to the quarters where the CIA torture to the most feared spy. There had to go to collect the sample ... my sample, to take my "kids" to a sperm capacitation.
They do not need such training, and are sperm! In a few years may be espermatosaurios, but now is the equivalent of someone taking a course on human being. Take it!

What my brave warriors need is a ovulística training. Train them in the noble art of seducing the hostile egg. Ownership rules, the Manual de Carreño, saying good morning, good afternoon, good evening. May I go and fertilize?, Take serenade, teach some of those songs that melt at the women as "Gem" and "The Gift", so then if ... to form the zygote precious communion to engender life. Would not it be better to change the curriculum of sperm Miss?
No sir. Sperm capacitation is to select the best of its kind. So is something like an "American Next Top Model" but with sperm? Well
something. Look, for example you gave us 28 million cells. They are many. Yes, but of those only 20% are normal. For five million are still many. Yes, but we selected the most rapid and vigorous. So it is rather like the Beijing Olympics. Well, yes. These sperm Olympic, topped, hair, we put them three Red Bull and are the insert to his wife. What technology!
I must say I am very proud of the number. Before I had surgery (told them about that later), the count was only three hundred. I imagine these Spartans fighting the battle of Thermopylae in value more than enough, but much less in number and without a lion to lead them.

Since my warriors are well trained, I give my specimen with which I have to run and down three floors, walk to another building, one floor down, to walk into the Gladiola and hand the baton relay as , to allow it insemination in the General, who is already on a stretcher with regulatory measures to this end and hope that these millions of sperm freshly scented, run as fast as I, to immortality. May God

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