Ihave 3.35 eyeballs but 0 children, excluding those I may have left behind me in my wild and rowdy days. Back in those days I was only interested in the pleasures of the flesh, the table, and the tankard. I lived a life of sin and decadence, drinking and wenching until the very early hours and then staggering home where my sainted mother was praying for my conversion to the paths of righteousness and religion. Oh, yes, she abjured me to give up my pursuit of pleasure! She prayed for and over me day after day! She offered up novenas to Sts. Monica and Mary Magdalene! She even went to far as to hide my clothes, thinking that this would stop my wayward ways, but it did not. And now, when I think back upon those times I feel shame and repentance. For they lasted too long, far, far too long. When I should have been a responsible citizen and shouldering the duties of a Man, I was making love to a bottle! And I slipped further and further down the Primrose Path To Perdition. Finally though the efforts of my Mother reached fruition and I was gathered into The Fold, finally toilet trained and weaned, even walking unassisted. And yet I look back upon those days with nostalgia (and I don't mean Nostalgia Smythe, the girl next door, for you have a filthy mind and she entered the nunhood at the age of eight anyway) when hordes of women cooed over me and fed me and catered to my every need.

Sigh....