You've read the title correctly.That is not a typographical error.
Every morning when I awake from my slumber,with in 15 minutes,I go into labor.Now my labor isn't quite that of a pregnant women in the traditional sense.I don't break water.I do, however,having cramping in the abdominal region followed by excretions of vile,toxic gases that would in deed make Saddam Hussein proud.With in a few moments after I break my "Wind" I know it's time to head to the "Throne of Birth" and position myself.Once in place,feeling comfortable,having my breathing rhythms in tact,I commence to pushing.After a few short,and sometimes painful,moments of pushing and sweating I'll let out a sigh of relief.The ritual of birth is complete.Following that,a look of pleasure and fulfillment adorns my face.I now stand up,taking on that proud,radiant look that all fathers get at this joyous moment in ones life.I gaze down upon the "Throne of birth".The smile widens on my face as I take the first look at my newly born 6 pound tar baby.But I can't help wonder "What will become of him?".There will be no nurturing of this baby.No need to feed him.Clothe him,send him off to college.As I look down upon him,draping him with tissue for his long,and hopefully pleasant,journey into the vile underworld of civilization.I can't help to be saddened.However,I know all to well he can not stay.Like every other creature on this planet that bares a newborn,we must part ways with our offspring.So with the touch of a lever,a whirl pool of water spirals my newly born tar baby along on its journey to the abys...
Fear not my tar baby.You will be meeting others along your journey.You will not be alone..........
~Pinnacle~