So you think I’m good at this, you know talking about XXY, Klinefelter’s syndrome, and sex in general?

Do I NEED your support, sorry no. I have learned to live life alone, I don’t NEED anybody!

It’s probably a bad thing being self reliant, resourceful, talented, intelligent, need I go on?

If someone gets an honour from the Queen of England does it come before that persons professional title or after? Like Dame Margret Sparrow, is she Dame Dr, or Dr Dame?

More than just I am confused about that. If you’re a Sir, your wife if she’s female automatically becomes a Dame. But if you’re a Dame, like my aunt Dame Dorothy Fraser, her husband didn’t automatically become a Sir, is that weird or what?

Anyway I met Dame Dr Margret Sparrow at the old Wainuiomata College in the mid 1970’s. She was giving a talk on SEX, Sex Education precisely. Of course I thought I knew it all, I had an O Level in Human Biology, of course I knew it all, and I was young enough to say so! 🙂 The only thing I can remember of the talk was going into the School Hall, parents were separated form their offspring so that when the ‘group discussions’ started family members were not together.

A talk about sex and that’s all I can remember! That must have been 1975. It’s amazing how thoughts get concentrated by certain events at a certain time of life. 1975 was a nothing. Life began for real in 1976:

My Karyotype

I’m not the only XXY man who’s met Dr Dame Margret Sparrow. Both these two have met her too:

Michael Noble  & David Strachan XXY

And if you click on the this link you’ll be taken to the article they’re both mentioned in, or co-authored, or something? It’s all very interesting how all the same names pop up as the old groups fade away, and the new groups form. New people coming forward to espouse their curious understanding of genetics and endocrine disease are very rare.

Here is David Strachan again associated with AIC & Mani Mitchell, a few years later, just recently actually, promoting the Intersexions documentary, full of absolute drivel from the XXY men featured in it:
David Strachan & Mani Mitchell

What else besides being XXY do these two have in common, they both think they’re intersex, and they’re both homosexual. Gavan Coleman says he’s intersex too, does that get you wondering? Of course I say sexuality has nothing to do with chromosomes, or genes, or genetic influence, it’s all about choice. People who NEED to justify their CHOICES, NEED a genetic argument. They’ll have to look elsewhere, maybe it’s on an autosome, the homosexual gene?

Maybe it’s one of the genes predicted to be functioning on the inactivated X? I do say it’s outrageous to assume all XXY men have the exact same active genes functioning on the inactivated X, so why can’t this gene that causes homosexuality be on the inactivated X, or the activated X, or the Y? 😛 So is the homosexual gene for XY males on their mothers X, as we know they got their Y from their father! Do XXY men who claim they’re intersex, and are homosexual, KNOW for certain which parent provided their other X? I can’t say ‘inactivated X’ in this instance as it may be a gene on the active X, who knows?

I think I know, considering the number of boys in puberty who approached me for sex at Fernlea School, and Parkway Intermediate, and it was very enjoyable too, and later at Hendon Senior High School in London. Having sex with boys is definitely something all boys do, it’s just a part of life. Absolutely normal sexual behaviour.

You can always search the parents websites all over the internet, where ‘worried’ parents ask questions about masturbation, and seek justification for punishing their boys they caught masturbating with other boys! I wonder why they just don’t think back to their own puberty to know why boys do such things? It’s really enjoyable! Later, when girls become available, masturbating with them is really enjoyable too! As Quentin Crisp once said “Intercourse is a poor substitute for masturbation.”

From the DVD “Bad Education

Gee, I wonder if these boys were XXY too? 😛 Of course this is a fictional story, but I’m sure there must be some reason the original author included it in his film?

XXY men are Untrustworthy!

QR Code Web Address

XXY men, specifically, tell lies. They make up stories, it’s well documented. They can’t, as a group, explain their own personal situation accurately. They invent scenarios to fit their particular circumstances, or circumstances they believe others will emapthise with. I have personal experience of this, not that I do it myself.

Recently one XXY man told me he had such a small penis that he’d never had sexual intercourse with his wife. My first query was ‘why would such a man get married?’ although I never actually said it to him. Then he followed that up with a claim he’d been tested for infertility and not told he was XXY after the process. So my question was “Why did you have fertility testing if you’d never had sex, surely you know why your wife wasn’t getting pregnant?” To which I received the comment ‘you’re putting words in my mouth’ and other such stupidity. If I’d made an error, if he didn’t have a tiny penis, if he did have sex with his wife, why did he say he didn’t?

Later he found me again on Facebook, and requested friendship. Then he had to have surgery and he loaned his Facebook account to another person, who took the opportunity to attack me ruthlessly, as if I’d done something wrong. The gentleman in question had made up a great long scenario of events that never happened at all, and then forgot all his story when he had to seek medical therapy, and loaned his account out to the person he’d lied to.

Prior to that time we were having a reasonably sensible conversation, but when his lies became evident to me he had to cut me off, I might complain! But no, I understand many of these guys often live in a world all of their own, not related to reality. Given enough time he might even apologise, or conveniently forget his detailed story? Such has happened many times in my life when dealing with XXY guys, who are prone to inventiveness.

Years ago it became almost a pastime to bad mouth me. I am the tall poppy, I am proud of my knowledge. That attracts a certain degree of jealousy. One XXY guy from near Wellington claimed I’d forced my way into his appointment with his Endocrinologist, who also happened to be my Endocrinologist too, and he invited me to attend one of his appointments. John Delahunt wouldn’t tolerate anybody forcing their way into any confidential meeting without consent, or being invited, and there’d be no force or coercion. That single most important fact was lost to the XXY man concerned.

The most recent ‘tall story’ involves an XXY man who claims to have never had puberty! He made his claim on video, which is published on Vimeo and YouTube, and we can all see him sitting in front of a camera with a goatie beard, that can’t have grown unless he did indeed have puberty. He also said “what were the biology books saying I was doing?” in relationship to puberty. That was another gaff. XXY boys start puberty normally. In one study the XXY boys started puberty at 11.9 years and by the end of puberty their penis was normally sized in 77% of them.

Penis 77%

Curiously this particular XXY liar made plenty of videos on YouTube, one where his mother interviews him, and we learn that she suspected he was XXY at 4.5 years owing to his behaviour, and got no assistance from the medical profession. We also learn she’s a Biology teacher. We learn from his current video that he had gynaecomastia, and nobody put 2+2 together. Not even him! He was doing what biology books would say if high school biology books dealt with diseases, but they don’t, they deal with what usually happens. He thought his gynaecomastia was terribly disfiguring and he has it removed, but fails to understand it is a common feature of puberty (that he says he never had) that can affect ALL boys!


The report I’m giving excerpts from starts off with:

Unduly Pessimistic

Yet what do we find, the persons with the most pessimistic and outrageous stories are the XXY men themselves. There’s a particular anonymous XXY blogger on another site who misread this title and claimed the article was about length or life, not quality of life!


Even though I find the title disagreeable, it is accurate. One needs to read the entire report though before any solid conclusions can be drawn, and of course I have read it all. Even the authors themselves say their report has limitations. What they identify as the most important limitation I don’t even consider. I say the most important limitation is that these men with KS are being compared to a much larger population of men who are not treated for a chronic condition. If they were being compared to a group of men with Kallmann syndrome who take testosterone therapy, that would reveal some interesting results I’m sure.

The limitations the authors give are these:


So, in common language, the group studied were not part of an XXY group who had no testosterone therapy. The group was small. There was no guarantee they were actually taking their testosterone as it was prescribed during the study, or at all. The group was probably of patients who reported more frequently other problems anyway.

My opinion, ‘XXY guys make excellent hypochondriacs!’ 🙂

These are the sorts of issues Milton Diamond PhD never considers, it seems, when he writes his reports on XXY men treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome. XXY guys are not the most trustworthy individuals you’re ever likely to meet! Whatever they say must be corroborated by independent, unbiased, sources. And have I said, I’m XXY, I know what I’m talking about.


Reply to Trans Guy

Can I have a post that doesn’t have a title as I can’t think of one?

How about ‘Reply to Trans Guy?’

Shall I re-upload my video I made primarily for Transmen here at WordPress, nah better not, why bother I can just link to it, or embed it, and get more views/plays. I can do that, that sounds awfully mercenary like, type of behaviour.

Is it part of being male to objectify females?

If I do I’m not aware of it. Maybe it was just that one guy in his apartment block who objectifies females, or thinks he has to, to be a real man?

I’ve been through this ‘real man’ shit before.

My doctor is far too professional to use such a stupid phrase.

Then again when I first moved to this town I’m in now, not knowing where anything was, I ended up walking the entire width of the town from where I was staying to attend at a doctors surgery. I tend to do that you know 1, walk and 2, go to doctors surgeries. It’s just something about me, probably that XXY something?

I need testosterone for a sex life. For energy. For masculinity. For happiness. I like being male. I’m quite happy to walk across a town’s width to get testosterone. In the phone book the two places I wanted to get to were side by side! I do that too, make ridiculous assumptions. Never mind, done now.

So there I was at this brand new doctors surgery, in this brand new town I’d recently arrived at, and I needed a script for testosterone. I need other drugs as well but I really need testosterone, and I really needed it right then. Sweating profusely, I tend to do that when I walk cross town. Cross Country with buildings. What’s going to happen, yeah I know what’s going to happen, what always happens, touchy squeezy da bally things, that’s what’s going to happen. Trouble is they’re not real anymore, and I know if I protest I won’t get the testosterone I so urgently need.

In any other place that is called BLACKMAIL!

That causes anxiety of course. Add another couple of degrees of heat. A few more litres of sweat. Full body tremors, they come back with a vengeance. I can’t stop myself from shaking long enough to light my smoke, whoops forgot, smoking inside is not allowed! I wonder will he want me to have an erection too? That’s a worry, more anxiety, more sweat, why did I even bother to get out of bed? Oh that’s right I remember, I NEED testosterone!

I’m an XXY guy, I really suffer from anxiety. I don’t smoke tobacco for no reason, it’s much more than just a mere addiction. I can literally make myself physically sick with worry, and it’s all imagined! Imagined on the basis of some fairly compelling real life situations, mind you!

It’s finally my turn, I get to see the doctor. Can I report that all my anxiety was for no reason? It has worked out that way many times before, like when I found my Grandfather’s jacket in my wardrobe. It would be nice to have imagined it all, but it wasn’t, I was 100% accurate. When you’re XXY you’re like a ‘pot of gold’ to a brand new doctor, well almost any doctor really.

I have to put in a mild protest of course. “They’re not real, you don’t have to do this, it’s in my notes, you can read all about it, I’ve not had real balls for years, there’s nothing to squeeze, if you want to know what prostheses feel like you can always buy your own pair, I did!” To no useful avail, why I even bother talking I don’t know! It’s like watching a circumcision ‘operation’ the baby’s screaming his lungs out, and the doctor appears completely oblivious to his suffering, and just continues anyway!

Oh and I have added a physical protest in the past, when I had real balls too, and they crushed them as that what it felt like, crushing, and I’d push their hand off me. I was so much weaker and smaller than them though, they could easily overpower me, and did. One even pinned my arms to the couch with his right leg and left hand, and crushed my balls with his right hand. I call that torture!

This is called an ‘examination’ by the way, just in case you’re confused, this isn’t assault. I willingly put myself though this every time I see a brand new doctor. I don’t have any fucking choice! I’m really angry about it too, I just thought I’d chuck that in for measure.

“Leave me alone, why don’t you leave me alone, just leave me alone, leave me alone…..” someone should write a song using those words! I can think of a tune for them too, this one!

Do men really objectify women as a function of our being? I think it must be practiced, or learned behaviour. I think many men are used to objectifying all sorts of people, especially men doctors.

Oh and because I didn’t have an instant erection, and because in my notes it says what level of testosterone I was prescribed at that time, the brand new doctor said “I think you’ve got enough testosterone, you’re taking too much, you don’t need any more.” “Ohh?” I inquisitively questioned, leaning my head to one side – this is called looking at someone sideways. “You’re shaking, sweating, anxious, and impotent, all the signs of too much testosterone” he added.

I have excellent reason to be anxious.

Is this what happens to Transmen who go to their doctors for more testosterone, as I know they need it? Do you have to flop your ‘package’ out so the doctor can examine it in fine detail? Do you have your foreskin pulled back to induce an erection? Oh no that’s right, Tran’s men’s prostheses don’t have a foreskin, and their penis is not erectable.

To get the full male experience you need to have male genitals, and it helps if you’re an XXY male, not that I’ve been any other kind of male, but my presumably XY male friends don’t report anything even remotely similar. They never have their real balls squeezed at all.

what graeme's balls really really do look like_wmv_1

I did get the testosterone in the end, when I said I didn’t have a car and had to walk everywhere. When I gave him my Endocrinologists phone number to call. As I said, “It’s all in my notes, you don’t have to do this!”

War on the Syndrome

Syndrome isn’t a proper name, it should never have a capital letter to start it unless it’s an acronym, or a title, or as I’ve used it here at the start of a sentence. So all the reports that say “Klinefelter’s Syndrome” (symptoms of disease) in the body of the text are wrong, they should read “Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease.)”

Who the hell wants to look like a fat ugly woman with male genitals? If that’s YOU and you take testosterone, you’re going about it all wrong. Don’t take testosterone and you’ll get nice and fat. Of course I have never met an obese person who has a good opinion of themselves. When they read or hear of how Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease) develops they get all defensive. I don’t know why, they want to be fat, so why should they care how they get, or got fat?

I met a guy in Torrance, he was a lawyer, an XXY lawyer, can’t remember his name. He was one of the first XXY guys to successfully use ICSI. He decided to take me to task over my support of testosterone therapy for XXY teenagers. His father had died of prostate cancer, and he believed testosterone caused prostate cancer. Of course it’s not true, but people believe whatever they like, even lawyers. He had what I describe as ‘fat ugly’ body shape. If I had to have it I’d kill myself. I have no desire to look like that, like those ‘fat ugly’ women shapes with male genitals, I saw at Lower Hutt Public Library in 1975.

It’s a good idea not to have testosterone therapy whilst you’re building up to use ICSI, sperms need as much natural testosterone as they can get to, well, be there. Once they’ve been extracted through, there’s no logical reason to stay off testosterone, unless you want to get really fat. I can’t remember how the conversation went. I wasn’t expecting it anyway, it was an ambush. I expect I would have been conciliatory since I was in his country. I would have stood my ground I think. Making teenage boys look like an adult who wants to be ‘fat ugly’ is not fair. My experience is teenage XXY boys like masculinity, and ‘fat ugly,’ is not masculine.

Teenage XXY boys also like a sex life, being diagnosed as a teenage boy I can guarantee that. Low testosterone is no fucken good for a good sex life. Being a teenager and impotent is an esteem sapping killer. If prostate cancer was an absolute guarantee when taking exogenous testosterone, I’d still prefer a sex life with testosterone, to an asexual existence. Maybe a fat lawyer who’s got a family by ICSI can do away with his sex life, but I wouldn’t impose it on anybody. Sex is fun. Fat is ugly. A fat XXY guy with a sex life, unheard of! You MIGHT find a few, or plenty, of XXY guys who are obese and say they have a sex life, but they’re liars. Obesity kills sex life when it’s caused by low testosterone, the obesity that is.

Obesity’s part of the syndrome, no sex life isn’t, I enjoy a very active sex life. That’s a complication of obesity. Like diabetes, complication of obesity. Varicose veins, complication of obesity. Leg ulcers, complication of obesity. Amputations, complication of obesity. Of course just being male makes us susceptible to heart disease. Also being world famous worriers increases our risk of heart disease. If you happen to live in the fattest nation on the earth, that will also increase your risk of heart disease, as you’ll be living the culture of eating too much and exercising too little, if at all.

So I suppose it’ll make you feel better if you keep referring to your self as the ‘symptoms of disease’ then you can pretend there’s nothing you can do about it. You can believe you’re genetically predisposed to obesity. You can ignore all the other fat people around you who do not have Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease), they’re obese because they eat too much, but you have a syndrome, you have a built in excuse!

Do you like my new page set up? I’ve changed the name of the blog too. I’ve decided to ignore completely any suggestion that there’s something different about our sex. You fellas who want to describe yourselves as the symptoms of disease, you won’t have a sex life anyway, so you can refer to your diseased bodies any way you like. I’ll refer to it as ‘fat ugly’ if I had it. I’m not interested in representing a tiny minority. The tiny minority can represent themselves, with lies. They have to tell lies or they can’t get away with it, being in the wrong population.

Medical researchers discovered in 1999 that men treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease) are notorious liars. They don’t propose an answer as to why, just that self reporting questionnaire is the wrong way to go about studying these guys. Self reporting questionnaire can still be used, so long as it’s in conjunction with a psychiatric evaluation and/or psychological profile too. I have been lied to so many times by men treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease). Some of the lies aren’t told directly to me, but they’re in print and available on the net. Plenty of people read them every day I expect.

The most notorious lie I can recall was repeated by Hida Viloria on video, that if a man treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease) stopped taking his testosterone therapy he could die! I will be bold enough to propose a reason for this particular lie. The man doesn’t believe he’s severely affected enough by his symptoms of disease, so to garner sympathy he exaggerates it. I believe he’s the same fellow who maintained that in 2002 doctors were experimenting on XXY teenage boys with testosterone. That support groups for XXY teenagers were recommending physical activity to alleviate gynaecomastia. Oh and that he was Gay but sought fertility evaluation because of his height. Yeah right!

So I don’t believe him. He’s making up stories. I’ve been treated with testosterone since 1977, and my rate was only altered if I complained about whatever. The first change was after 1 month when I said I noticed nothing from having a 100mgs injection. It was increased to 250mgs over 4 weeks, and stayed that way for years, because I never complained further. So I really can’t see doctors ‘experimenting’ with testosterone in 2002, when they only changed rates when patients complained, in accordance with the Endocrine Society guidelines.

An Endocrinologist treating outside the guidelines would only do so with good reason, like the patient was complaining. Experimenting is a professional ‘no no.’ Magical Thinking is also associated with XXY, I can’t imagine how it can possibly be associated with low testosterone, since men who develop low testosterone later in life don’t suddenly start making up stories.

The next time I complained it was to try to prevent physical examinations, as I got so sick and tired of them. Does anybody else find that when they’re known, they have their balls crushed on a regular basis? Oh I mustn’t be too exaggerating, having their balls palpated on a regular basis? Of course every single time I had my balls palpated, before the palpation, I instantly went stiff, as I had plenty of testosterone and just taking my pants off caused an erection. I don’t know why the doctors didn’t figure out they were hurting me, as soon as they started the ‘examination’ I lost my erection, as sure sign I’m in agony!

So yeah, I got tired of all that and I talked to John about switching to the capsules so I didn’t need to go to the doctors surgery so often. I just said it was inconvenient to have to go so often, once a month for my injection, that the doctors insisted on giving me themselves. I just think they liked playing with my balls, personally. Known about XXY guys rarely arrived in their surgery. Of course if they checked every guy for tiny testicles, they’d find plenty of guys with tiny testicles. Like AD/HD, when doctors look for it, they find it.

Reminds me of a joke that, “Kid dressed in a cowboy suit goes into a shop and asks for an ice cream with nuts, and the server lady says ‘do you want your nuts crushed?’ and the kids says ‘do you want your tits blown off?’ pointing his toy gun at her.

Anyway, my whole plan blew to bits. The doctor I was seeing would only give me 1 month supply of capsules at a time, and insisted on seeing me for an appointment, and examination, every time I went for a new script. So nothing changed. Every time I changed doctor, or had to see a different doctor as the regular one wasn’t there, I had my balls squeezed. Doctors just loved my testicles. They loved them so much more than I did, I hated them.

When I was teenager, young adult, even up to middle aged, and looked much younger than I actually was, treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome (symptoms of disease) this is the sort of shit I had to put up with. I have considered that part of this is John’s fault, he should never have written in my medical record, “good scrotal and penile development.” I was a novelty, I still am a novelty. XXY guys are supposed to have a short penis, and I do not have a short penis. It’s dead easy to prove too, just in case you don’t believe me? I don’t see XXY guys naked very much these days, but when I did I didn’t see any with a penis so short it was noticeably short.

Late consideration 04/06/2013 : Many of the XXY men complaining about a short penis are also circumcised. It may well be that when that barbaric butchery is done away with, XXY men from America will cease reporting a short penis? It’s not their fault they’ve had their pride and joy shortened by a complete lunatic.

New tactic, I’m at war with the symptoms of disease.

Klinefelter’s syndrome & 47XXY

Talking about statistics, this is not as boring as you might think.

Wow I am amazed, nobody from New Zealand reads my blog, not one single person. Germany is always about 4th on my list of ‘reader nations’ and the USA is usually on top. But yesterday Canada outstripped the USA by a huge amount, more than double!

According to my statistics of this blog, Klinefelter’s syndrome and XXY are the most read, most searched for, most popular, topics I write about. That’s amazing too, I didn’t know they were that popular with anyone. I’m a bit slow I’ve only just figured out how to read my statistics, well YOUR statistics readers. I have a lot of repeat readers, the same people come back on a regular basis.

Recently I purchased Video hosting on WordPress, and it’s quite expensive for the space I get, so I’ll have to be pretty selective on what videos I house here. I’ve discovered that Facebook has almost no impact on my statistics and neither does Twitter, so I’ve disabled my links to those sites, but another one I just started on, that I’m not sure about how to use a I’ve linked to. I can’t remember it’s name right now, no matter.

When I was 10 I had no development at all. This is pre puberty. In theory. My mum had just washed my hair in the bath and I headed off to the lounge to dry off in front of the open fire. Nothing unusual so far. I was standing like you would be in a star jump, with the towel stretched out behind my back and between the fullest extent of my arms, held with my thumb and index finger, in each hand. This is pretty typical in our house as a means to dry off after a bath, for the children. I needed to stretch my shoulder blades and as I did my head naturally lowered and I was looking straight down.

“OH MY GOD” I said audibly, in slow motion, “WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?” (silly question really, I’d had it all my life) just as audibly. I am not joking, I am not boasting, it was at least half a ruler long, and rock solid. There’s a reason why guys call it a “woody!” Half a ruler is SIX INCHES! It wasn’t as fat as it became at 12, but it was at least 6 inches long, and I didn’t even know what it was called. “It” seems to be the appropriate word.

I immediately dropped my hands to my front, with the towel tightly drawn across my backside, no higher than my hips. I needed all the towel in front as I could get. I pushed “it” down with both hands, and if “it” had a muscle I’d just pulled it. Damn that hurt! “It” did not want to go down, “It” did not want to be pointed down, “It” was adamant, “It” was staying UP. In that situation, if you were me, I’m sure you’d let out a bit of a squeal, I did. My mum said sounding inquisitively concerned, “Graeme are you alright?” “Yes mum I’m fine” I said as I headed off quickly for MY bedroom (being possessive, at these times this is MY bedroom.)

The next time my mum washed my hair, even though I had absolutely no development at all, that was visible, normally, I said, “Mum, I can wash my hair myself.” This thing was out of control, “it” didn’t have any manners. There was no warning, no touching, no thinking, this thing can go off at any moment. It was a time bomb, that set it’s own clock! My mum said “Oh oh, ok, just this last time I’ll wash it, just to make sure it’s clean.” Well as a 10 year old that kind of made sense. Now it doesn’t make any sense, the same issues still existed, whether my hair was clean or not. Never mind as a 10 year old I was a bit naive, of course. I said “well don’t look” 😀 And my mum said “Oh no, I won’t look.” Liar, I bet she did, and she would have seen no development, nothing!

This isn’t supposed to happen with XXY guys I’m told. I read other XXY guys writings and they don’t seem to have any recollection of a normal puberty. Most of the guys I read claim they had delayed or late puberty, or they don’t mention puberty at all. I can’t understand that. Some people claim the development I have now is the result of the testosterone I’ve taken since being diagnosed, and it’s just plain nonsense. I’ve looked like I do now since I was 12 in my penis anyway. There is nothing ‘inter’ about my sex, and there never has been.

The Mission

On with the mission. – (This is from 1971 – Granddad had been dead for a few months) – The only thing that had ever come out of my penis before then was pee. In Science I was learning that if the conditions of a liquid changed then the liquid can become a gas, or a solid. Well what about something between solid and liquid? What about Sticky? So as heat was involved in my first discovery, and as heat was involved in my second discovery, heat must be the catalyst. That seemed logical to me. If I heat my pee up it will turn into this sticky stuff. That was the Theory.

Proving it is going to be difficult. Just being in the house on my own was a mission all of itself. For some reason nobody trusted me. Well maybe that’s stretching the truth just a little? There were some excellent reasons why nobody trusted me.

  • Like; arriving at school with a coloured piece of paper, that happened to be a large value bank note!
  • Like; losing my underpants at school and not knowing where I put them. I still don’t know where they went, must have fallen off! I had my shorts though, what was the big concern? Maybe I forgot to put them on before I left for school?
  • Like; being found with a leg of lamb under my arm, in bed. I guess I got up for a midnight snack? I just nodded off before I took it back to the fridge.
  • Like; growing several apples trees outside my bedroom window, from the apples I’d half eaten. I was good at gardening even back then, before I knew anything about Horticulture.
  • Like; climbing in through my parents bedroom window, directly under live power lines. I was at least 2 feet away, what harm could I come to?
  • 149 wainuiomata rd

    There was to be a school trip to Picton, and for once my mother wasn’t going, she had something else on, so I took advantage of it. Before then, watch this:

    Exactly the same thing happened to me, except I didn’t have any “Sex Ed.” I had to work it out for myself, and not very well. I saw a Maori woman on TV, no idea about what the programme was about, and I dreamed about her, and it was weird. I dreamed about other people too, and they weren’t in that TV programme. I woke up – and the dream really should have gone on, where the dreamed ended wasn’t the exciting bit. I thought I’d wet myself again. This was getting a bit much, this isn’t on, this is not fair, at all, I’m being cheated out of my dreams, and something’s making me wet myself, but not with pee!

    You can see how my attention is being grabbed. I had to find out what this was, and it could have all been settled if my dad had VOLUNTEERED the answer. He KNEW what was happening, he must have, and he said NOTHING.


    First on the left is Murray, in 1971, this is the school trip to Picton, I’m not in this photograph, we weren’t even in the same class anymore. That’s how long I had to wait to execute my plan, about a year, and for all that time I’d not gained any new information, even after what was supposed to be “Sex Education.

    So I got back from the trip to Picton and nobody was home, as I expected. Again I climbed through that open window under the power lines. It worked the first time, no reason it won’t work a second. I got out one of my mothers cooking pots, peed in it, and set it on the stove to heat it up. I hadn’t considered the smell, so I opened a few windows. I had that pee boiling for at least 5 minutes and it didn’t change one little bit! What had I forgotten? This was a complete disaster. A total failure.

    I turned the stove off and tipped the pee down the sink. I got a Tea Towel and wiped the inside of the pot, I didn’t think it needed washing as it didn’t look dirty. Hung the Tea Towel up, put the pot away, closed the windows, and left, through the window. I had to get back to Parkway Intermediate to be picked up to be taken back to where I was, I was supposed to wait at Parkway after we got back from Picton – but I detoured.


    I met a psychiatrist once who said he couldn’t understand why I was so bothered about being sterile. I suppose, as I never asked, his idea was it’d be great, screwing around everywhere, anywhere, never having to worry about pregnancy. My experience was that teenage boys don’t give a shit about pregnancy anyway. Teenage girls didn’t either. As always the hard part was finding someone to have sex with, not whether condoms could be acquired. An erect penis and a willing partner, that’s it, all the necessities are satisfied.


    What do you do, you’re 17, you’re told you’re sterile, you read you’re sterile. Do you all just accept what you’re told, all the time? I was more inquisitive than that. I didn’t request a sperm count, I decided to give myself a sperm count. I can prove it too! The microscopes I was intending to use I knew were not powerful enough to see individual sperms, they were powerful enough to see movement. Like when they’re using the Hubble space telescope to study a blob, to see if a far off object is a star, or if it has a planet orbiting it. They don’t try to zoom in on the planet, they just check to see how much of a wobble it has. If it wobbles there something with greater mass exerting gravitation force on it. That’s the same principle, if my ejaculate wobbles there’s something living in there, and if it doesn’t, there isn’t!

    high sperm countHigh sperm count

    I suppose there could have been 1 sperm, but since my balls were less that 1.0mL in volume there wasn’t really much chance of that 1 being there at all. It was just an academic study to keep my mind occupied, since I was unemployed anyway. I had to work out how to get to the microscope I planned to use, ejaculate and use it, without anybody working out what I was doing. That might be kind of difficult to explain?

    So I decided to ejaculate before I set out. Masturbating in a science lab at a high school might not be received so well, if I were caught. And people say guys with AD/HD don’t plan! I never had a problem producing ejaculate, getting an erection was a worry, but then I learned an erection is not required to ejaculate. Believe me it’s true, you’ll just have to work it out for yourself, I’m not explaining it. 🙂

    low_sperm_countLow sperm count

    I found one of my mothers lip-sticks, removed its contents and it was perfect. Easily concealable. Ejaculate becomes like water soon after it is, well, ejaculated, so the container has to be water tight. I was a regular visitor at Wainuiomata College as Blossom was associated with that school, and Jack her husband, and she was the person who convinced me to waste 6 months there doing New Zealand secondary school examinations, so they knew me. Getting in was easy, I just volunteered to help clean up the lab after the class before lunch. That gave me 1 hour of free undisturbed scientific investigation.

    Have I mentioned I have an O Level in Human Biology? I think I may have. I’m proud of that qualification. “O” means Ordinary by the way. I have an Ordinary Level qualification. I also have a New Zealand “School Certificate” qualification in Human Biology. I like Human Biology. I know how to use a microscope. How to prepare slides, how to place them, how to clean up afterwards. So; there was no movement. Slide after slide there was no movement. And the last slide was ruined as my tears dripped on to it as I was about to place the top slide on.

    stressBeing inquisitive has a down side.

    azoospermiaWhat I found, Azoospermia – no sperm

    I can’t understand why anybody can’t understand why a teenage boy is upset because he’s sterile. It is a big deal.