14 elderly dead, one birth. The Departed 14 - The New Arrivals 1. Don't sound like good mathematics to me with regards to continuing da glorious euro welfare state thingy, whaddoyousay?
I don't know what the FUCK is WRONG with the people of my generation, the generation before me, and the one after me. In Belgium, autochton fertility rate is something like 1.37 and it's pretty much the same story elsewhere in Europe. No wait, the Fierce Spanish do better. They're at 1.1. The men seem unaware that the orchestra dangling between their legs can serve another purpose than peeing. And I don't buy it that they all prefer to be studs instead of fathers. I see an awful lot of 'em using daycream and yearning to cook tonight, that's right, the New Man is a cooking prodigy these days. The number of men able to fix a lawnmower is somewhat less impressive though than the number able to prepare a chateaubriand. No sir, I don't believe these sophisticated XY's, even if it's not for procreating, are all such heroes between the sheets. And the women? The women aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllll want to, no wait, it's not that they all want to put their career first. In a great many cases, what do I say, it's the overwhelming majority, there's no career involved to speak of, since most professional women I know work part time. So if it's not for the career nor for the kids, what's the extra time for? Ha, "self-fulfillment". Enjoying the good life. Reading books, you know. Though not the Dostoievsky variant, more like vampire stories and stuff. A shopping spree here, a course of Italian there. All very sophisticted, but they don't reach to my mom's ankles if you ask me.
Enjoy the good life while you can, sterile idiots. I wanna see all of you in thirty years time, when you're sitting all alone in a decrepit home for the elderly, all your penis can do will indeed be peeing, and the moroccan wards start thinking of speeding things up a little, and your nonexistent grandchildren are nowhere to be seen to give some comfort, let alone your nonexistent children.
Fucking wussies, and poor Stip. Jesus Christ.
Am I being grumpy? You bet I am. Do I care? Not a jolt.