- 1st Day of my blog -

Publié le par Brad-Pitt Deuchfalh

Today, June 1st, 2005, I’m 15.
Try to understand what this information means. It means that my parents must have conceived me between Thursday 24th and Wednesday 30th of August, 1989. French Revolution Bicentenary. A sign ? Maybe not. It seems to me though that it could only have happened on a Sunday. On Sundays Daddy watches the erotic movie on M6. Then it’s probably on Sunday 27th of August, 1989 that I’ve been conceived. I can imagine the scenario : Daddy watched the movie, lying on the sofa, all lights down, stripped to the waist. He would wear those blue sweatpants I've always known him to wear. It was dark in the house. Mum was already sleeping. When the credits started, he grabbed the zapping pad, switched off the TV, rose from the sofa, went through the unlit kitchen, passed by the toilets and stopped at the end of the corridor. He opened the bathroom door, put the light on, took off his sweatpants and urinated in the sink. He didn’t open the tap, neither before nor after, didn’t wash his hands and went to meet my Mum in their room and then, doubtlessly, he woke her up to make love to her.

Today, June 1st, I’m 15 and during those 15 years I never saw my father sit anywhere but in the sofa, at this very place, always the same, since 15 years. And in 15 years I never saw anyone else, in his presence, sit at this very place.
My mother doesn’t have a special place to sit in the sofa. Sometimes she sits here, sometimes there, sometimes even she sits in a chair. Sometimes she knits instead of watching the screen, but she doesn’t turn the lights on because it would prevent my father from sleeping. My father always sleeps in front of the TV. Except on Sunday nights.

Today, June 1st, I’m 15 and in 15 years I never saw my mother going to bed after my father. Nor at the same time. She goes to bed and will always do, before my father, with this wish, always repeated, to fall asleep before him, so as to be inextricably in the deepest of sleep when her husband, my father, will come to roar the motor truck his snoring sounds like.
Today, June 1st, I’m 15 and I use words such as “inextricably”.

Today, June 1st, I’m 15 and I suddenly have the terrible feeling that my theory falls apart (and maybe, dear readers, you noticed it before I did), if:

1. I’ve been conceived on a Sunday night (the Sunday 27th of August, 1989),
2. The sexual act took place after the M6 erotic movie,
3. My father peed in the sink before going to bed,

And if we consider that :

A. The distance starting from the sofa, passing by the kitchen, skimming the Toilets door, ending in front of the only bathroom’s sink ; this distance, is actually 18 meters long
B. A normally constituted man, weighing between 70 and 85kg, measuring less than 1m65 and practising no sports at all, in France, this man will spend at the toilets (or anywhere else), on average, 104 seconds urinating.
C. The distance going from the sink to the parents bed is 22m.
D. A man, as described before, and according to tests done in blowing engine by Prof. Hector Mechenstein, this man, in a familiar and non-rectilinear environment, without any sort of light, with his dick into the open air, walks 4.3km per hour.

And considering the following information, prejudiced and known by everyone, and that won’t be discussed here for evident reasons and that we can sum up – the information - in this terms: the M6 porno movie, on Sundays, ends at 11.55pm ; we can conclude that:
My father’s journey lasted 18+22meters multiplied by 4.3km per hour, that is to say approximately, 33.5 seconds to which we add 104 urine seconds, we obtain 2 minutes and 17 seconds, that is to say an arrival to the conjugal bed at exactly 11hours 57 minutes and 17 seconds pm.
Since my mother always puts all of energy, already in those days, and all of her hopes - kept secretly and naively - on one and only goal : falling asleep before my father ; we can imagine that it must have taken my father at least – let’s be kind – 4 minutes 12 seconds to wake her up and propose to her to put on the wellie (with an “e” as in “willy”) which brings us, you must have understood it, to 00 hours 01 minutes and 24 seconds, that is to say Monday 28th of August 1989 and not Sunday 27th !!!

So, of course, maybe the impact of such a revelation isn’t so obvious to you. “Today, we’re June 1st and he is 15, why does he care so much about that kind of crap?”, you may ask yourselves. Being conceived during the last minutes of an entire week or during the first minutes of another one, why does it matter after all ? Yeah. What importance ?

Daddy is a minister of a Yavish Community, located at the end of the village ; Daddy is a great believer of course. Daddy always told me that my destiny would be a road of light because I was conceived on the Day of the Lord. That’s what my Dad always says. “You’ve been conceived on the Day of the Lord.” According to my calculations, we can arrive at the only one conclusion and you’re getting there with me : if I was in fact conceived on a Sunday, it’s because Daddy didn’t wake Mummy up.




1er jour de mon blog, translated by Camille. Every correction, improvement, proofreading or subtleties are more than welcome. That's what the comments are for…If you're bilingual, a translator, an English teacher or simply very gifted in English, and if you wish to participate more actively to the translation of my texts, you can contact me by email (in French please!)

Publié dans English Version

Commenter cet article

locy 01/06/2007 22:01

Heu...Ok...I prefer in french, mais chacun son truc...

Harry Hobson 01/06/2007 18:32

Good text, very nice