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Octopus Mating…Premium Sleep

Did you know a male octopus rips off his penis and throws it at the female so she can inseminate herself? One of the many things on Pinterest.

True or not, I’ve no idea. What I do know is, it’s last night’s thought that kept me awake. Tossing about worrying over all manner of things is a nightly ritual. So much so that I avoid going to bed in anticipation of what thoughts may come.duchess-diaries-mating

As for the octopus, the circuitous route my brain took began with whether it’s true. I made a mental note to look it up and had no recollection this morning. Does he whip it at her or does he remove it and place it gently in her hand as a token of his esteem. If he does just toss it at her and swim away, he certainly is not as attached to his manhood as the human variety, non?

Does it hurt when he snaps it off? I suppose if it is meant to be plucked from the body, by glorious nature, one would assume it causes him no pain. As with most male species if pain were involved the octopus would have found itself extinct years ago. And the female, does she catch it with a specific one of her eight arms/legs? As with most things thrown under water, it should make an easy catch, unless of course a shark should swim in between and gobble it up on his dispatch through octopus land.

Is it a self enclosed semen container? Do octopus use semen as a means of seed spreading? What, exactly, does the female do with the penis in hand to inseminate herself? One can only guess. And shudder. And when she births little octopi with little peni, does she teach the boys of their detachable toy?

And on it goes. Every night. One thought turns to another and another and another. Counting sheep leads to how many does it take to make a sweater? Is that an adult or child size sweater? I really like my black v-neck sweater but sometimes it’s really hot so I can’t wear a blouse underneath. It looks better a little loose anyway. Kind of boyfriend sweater-ish. Like those jeans from Zara. They’re supposed to be a boyfriend cut. I don’t think I have the body for that baggy boyfriend cut that looks so good in the mags. They don’t hang the same way. Why not? Am I too curvy? I bet it’s my thighs. They’ve always been bigger than the rest of me. Proportional, they’re not.

Desperate for sleep, I resolve to put aside time during the day dedicated to spinning crazy thoughts about in my head. Nothing comes to mind. I look up the octopus info. Turns out, it’s sort of true. He gives one of his arms, which serves as a penis, to her and then swims off to die.

But wait, how does he die? Blood loss? Weakness? It can’t be lack of penis. Women have lived without them since the dawn of time. Perhaps thats where our strength comes. A penis in hand is worth two in the…well, you know.


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