The idea of fatherhood, for me, is a prospect that I see/hope may never happen to me. Fingers crossed. I am not saying that I wouldn’t like to pass on my talents, which are… I’ll get back to you on that. But the idea of having and making a baby is an idea that bothers me. Okay, it doesn’t keep me up at night, but is one of those niggling things. Every now and again I see pictures of old classmates and their children, parading them round on the internet. Posting pictures of them wearing a tutu, which you are supposed to ‘Like’, as if it is some work by Matisse or a piece composed by Holzst. Yes you have a child. Now stop rubbing it in my face. I am not interested in them. I don’t care if it took it’s first step, or stroked the dog.

Maybe this is the reason why I don’t particularly want to procreate. This is one of the most frightening things that I fear that may happen to me in years to come. I am both frightened and angered by it, a bit like every episode of My Super Sweet 16. I fear that I may pass on what is basically my cesspool of genes to my unfortunate offspring. That isn’t fair, surely..? I am glad because I know, in my heart of hearts, I won’t meet the T&C’s of starting a family. Plus, I don’t want to turn into one of those people, who constantly share updates with others about their child. Yes you had a child. Well done you. Now please let me get on with my life.

Firstly, to be traditional, one has to find ‘the one’. that one person you have a great affinity for. The one you feel is going to be your life partner and the person you will love forever and ever. That is a dream world; the catholic’s idea of marriage and procreation. Nowadays, everyone is in danger of creating a screaming blob of flesh with a human. We are all in danger of this. An overly sexual society is to blame . I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me, in this era, if an 8 year old knew what ‘fisting’ was. The mass media, and sensations like ‘50 Shades of Grey’ are to ‘blame’. I don’t know. Are they culpable for the overly sexual liberated society? Well, I don’t bloody know. Go and ask a sociologist or an anthropologist. Go on. Go phone one up right now…

Frankly, any one of us is around 6 WKDs/ Bacardi Breezers (other types of shitty Alcopop are available) away from becoming a father/mother. The awkward drunken fumble when after you’ve invited someone back to yours. The sharing of 60 disgusting penetrating thrusts with a guy, who frankly, looks as though he should be on a Crimewatch reconstruction, or being the e-fit. The inevitable ‘happy face’, which makes him look like a cross between a turtle pooing and a yawning horse. If this does not prove that the one does not exist, I don‘t know what will. It never has existed, but never more so than in this era. Everyone is just humping anyone else. It’s like the last days of Rome, only colder, less eloquent and probably not entirely spoken in Latin; but in some urban patois.

In my case, finding this elusive and fictitious ’one’ is about as likely as Jim Davidson being invited to compere for Stonewall at a charity gig. It is never going to happen. Partly because I don’t see the point in relationships, and partly because I think no-one is going to find me in any way tolerable for an indefinite period of time. Spending time with me must feel like the most laborious and underwhelming task ever, like painting the Forth Bridge.

Also, to make a family requires the former thing. The toleration of another human, I feel. Others naively call it love. The simpletons. Yes, creating a family is supposed to happen in a loving environment. I cannot see this happening. I am not fishing for compliments; I’m being genuinely self-deprecating. I genuinely don’t feel I will ever find a mate. However, I am not worried. I mean, who wants to raise a family with someone they love? It is just an inconvenience. You spend what, 18 years, at least, bringing up a child, teaching them morality and such shit, spending a ton of money on them, when you know full well they will end up miserable and alone; just like everyone else. (CHRIST! That is quite morbid of me)  Plus, they spend many years hating the guts off you. What is the point!? Having a child has to be the worst sexually transmitted disease in existence. At least Chlamydia can be treated and goes away for good… eventually. So I’m told. A child is for life. Bloody biology. You bastard.

The idea of sexy times with someone you merely tolerate is something worrying. To extrapolate an example. In Four Weddings and A Funeral, there is a theory that a couple decides to get married when they run out of things to talk about. I believe having a child is the next stage along. You grow tiresome of the same company every night, so decide to have a child. You may decide this once the lust has gone out of your relationship. All that ‘Love’ can be boiled down to is lust and toleration. Lust fizzles out after about a year of marriage say. You are left with toleration. I imagine sex in a tolerable relationship is not an intrinsically nice/appealing affair. It’s like being rocked by a ferry possibly. You derive no pleasure from it… probably. It is purely to try to bring another set of genitalia into the world. Kudos. Applause to you.

I do think the prospect, the slim prospect, I hasten to add, of being a father terrifies me because I will become a role model. That is such a horrifying moment of realisation. The one point of reference that this blob has for the primary years of their life, is me (and whatever poor woman is lumbered with me, like they have some disease). I have to teach them everything. How to read, tie shoe laces, the birds and the bees etc. but what do I know?! I know nothing. If you want to know random titbits of information, that is so trivial: I’m your man. I can teach a child how to play tiddlywinks, or about the work of Rick Astley, or show them Woody Allen films which give me the look of someone relatively cultured: that I am a fan of Woody Allen. I am in no way the person that should be looked up to as a glowing example of how a human being should be.