In the ongoing saga of Rick Gets Incredibly Old, my right knee is staging an open rebellion against me. It hates me. This is not good for weight loss, which by the way isn’t happening.
This coming Saturday, I will transition from being a man to being whatever you are after a vasectomy. That’s right; I’m getting the snip. Mrs. M.A.J. has been carrying the freight on birth control since we met, so it’s time I did my part. Or parts.
I was referred to what is by all accounts the best
castration vasectomy clinic around Continue reading “Let’s Fix This Junk: The Vasectomy”