The chances of my parents, Nelson Banks and Mary Brooks meeting and finding each other attractive enough to start messing around until they had a child (me) is 1 in 2,000. I can only assume that Nelson was at his prime health wise and rocketed a large amount of sperm, approximately 250 million squiggles. So, the chances of you or any of us being conceived to become who we are from that one particular egg meeting that single sperm is astronomical. Think about it, that one sperm that surfed your mother’s reproductive tract, to fertilizing her egg, overcoming a great number of obstacles and barriers that will make it difficult through the tubular of the Fallopian without wiping out and hit its target, momma’s egg. That is 1 in 4 quadrillion. Let me repeat that, the odds of your lineage remaining unbroken long enough to create you is 1 in 4 quadrillion. That means that every single one of your ancestors also had to be conceived to become exactly who they were. You have no choice in the matter by the way. When you calculate all of these Las Vegas odds and possibilities the chances of you existing right now as you drink you coffee with the tv on is basically zero. You’re a fucking miracle so start acting like it for G-d sakes. Have a nice day!
Witty Metaphorical Monologue Intensifies.
“Jesus you are taking this very seriously bro… It was a joke, stop blithering about an argument we weren’t having over music. Nobody is putting you down, quit being so fragile man. Lets just remain calm and put the thesaurus brain down on the ground nice and easy like.”
“Wow.. Thank you .. you know I played your lists in the car… cheeky stuff… friends always ask .. “what’s that you’re listening to?” glad to oblige .. thanks again for your critique.. I’m a Gimini by the way .. been in bands & played all my life .. for me this is real musician’s music.” ..
“Sounds like some kind of a noir fetish man, where did you find that track at a tobacco shop ?… it’s so slow, listening to this, I couldn’t steady myself with too much scotch in the tank…. way too much smoke in my eyes bro. All I could think about was a pair of soft tits, hard balls and the alabaster stems of the wing feathers.. What is the connection man?..Is it the connections that could keeps you alive or see me dead ? You are more cagier than a Soviet info broker and sharper than a Yakuza blade.”
“Wowww man, I’m shocked with your close minded taste of my music and an attitude of a femme fatal bitch…what did you have for breakfast…a can of dog food? I wouldn’t even be tempted to playing violin at your mothers funeral… for a dollars man.”
“Dont worry man…you will die, just enjoy your music now. By the way – your heart doesnt want to die, it will fight for you and your body to the last microsecond when it will stop. Be grateful for the light that comes through your pupils, one day they will turn grey and you – you will would be gone forever and your stupid music will be forgotten.”
“Hey ! You ready for lunch ?”
“Yeah, I’m hungry, your car or mine ?”
“Where do you want to go….Tally Rand or Los Amigos?”