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  I recently had a man write to me on my blog and ask me to send him my dirty panties. I'm not sure what he wanted them for. Maybe he's a bit of a clean freak and likes to wash and launder them and send them right back. Or maybe he doesn't.
But what quite annoyed me was that he wasn't prepared to pay for the privilege of sniffing my smalls. He claimed that he had not ejaculated for a month and wanted some lady bloggers who he was keen on to send him their panties so that he could have an explosive wank, maybe against a backdrop of fireworks on the forth of July?
All very laudable, but I was slightly miffed. At the very least he could have offered the postage for me to send him my precious knickers. Another suspicious thing: in the profile pic of him on his blog he's wearing a ladies garter belt and panties. I think in fact that the mega-wank story is just a fabrication and he just wants to kit out his wardrobe. The nerve!
I got a better offer recently from my friend Daisy.
 "We want your eggs and your womb. You know my eggs are duds, but Darren's sperm isn't too shabby. We can use that."
Yes, they wanted me to be a surrogate. And they knew how to get to me:
"We want to give you $10,000 to write the best blog in the world," Daisy said, leaning forward and patting my shoulder. "We've got a red hot topic for a blog. We want you to have our baby and write about it."
What a clever bitch! Appealing to my vanity like that. It was an exciting concept to contemplate, but wait, she knows I'm easy to wind up. This was a wind up. Right? RIGHT? I let out a nervous laugh. But since Daisy (40) and her husband, Darren (43) were not laughing, I decided to stop.
"Let me get this straight," I said, "You want my genetic material?"
Despite having a seven year old, Lola, they've been trying to get pregnant for several years, doing IVF etc, with no success and maybe desperate situations call for desperate measures.
God, it was flattering, that they wanted my genes, warts and all. I didn't want to ask if they'd put this proposition to all their friends and after having been rejected countless times they'd reached me, a person that will do anything (within reason) for money. Sure, I figured, I could go to jail for being a surrogate for the cool sum of ten thousand dollars, but let's face it, it was money for nothing. What were a few more stretch marks in the grand scale of things? And think of the blog I could write: Confessions of a Surrogate. It would be the most popular blog ever! And pretty soon there'd be a book deal, a Hollywood movie and Julia Roberts would be clamoring to play me.
But in the end I realized that seeing my kid running around would probably end in an unfortunate snatching incident. So I turned them down.
But maybe I shouldn't have turned down the knicker sniffer quite so easily. There are obviously many more like him out there. And now I'm wondering, what's the going rate for soiled panties? |
Emma K
