poor poor sperm

             I feel sorry for sperm, and I believe we all should. Take a moment to slip into your tiny white tadpole suit. Now try to imagine this---.
             You and a hundred million of your brothers start out your lives in the back of a seven hundred foot tube that is all bundled up and just kind of hanging there. At times, the temperature rises, and when it does, some of your brothers get deformed ;two tails, three tails, crooked heads or even two or three heads. You take look around and see that nearly 20% of you brothers are so messed up that they will not stand a chance in battle. .
             Finally, the time has come for everyone to charge into battle. On the first great attack, 25% of your brothers die just putting tail in the battle field. As you start to swim, you see thousands of your brothers unable to swim against the current of the woman's defensive body. looking off to your right, you see thousands more your brothers mistaking red blood cells as their primary goal. Off to the left and in front of you, white blood cells are attacking many more of your brothers. You continue to swim. Up ahead, you see more of your brothers getting stuck in cracks, and others going the wrong way. .
             Finally, you have made it to the tubes. Fifty-fifty shot at choosing the correct one. "Lets take the left," You suggest to the others. Of the few brothers remaining, half will go with you to the left, and the others will go to the right.
             Now the current gets even stronger. Along the walls are arms pulling you and the fifty or so of what's left of the brotherhood in the opposite direction. "LOOK there it is! Come on boys, lets get it." You yell "Hey, it won't let me in. Come on, let me in." You desperately cry out. You keep pushing, and pushing, kicking and kicking but nothing is happening. "Let! Me! In!" You demand, then you hear one of the brothers to the side of you say, "Look, I"m going in. I made it. I get to start a new life.