The “Don’t Tell My Girlfriend Poll”….Poll.

Due to other provoking circumstances that converged to undermine much of my writing over the weekend, I thought I’d inject some concentrated levity into this article with an introductory supplication that I’ve generously submitted to you-my most trusted advisor’s, so that you may contribute to the speculative identification of a subject that currently alludes me; the gender of my unborn child. This is decision that could potentially determine one the most critical moments of my adult life, and also evaluate your prescient virtuosity for assessing future events. I call this examination….*Clears throat*

Guess what’s growing inside my girlfriends womb!

It’s a puzzle draped in clandestine anonymity. So devious in its complexity that even a joint consultation between Batman and Sherlock Holmes would yield no definitive distinctions to the gender. Has some foreign extrinsic organism penetrated her womb, breeding a host parasitical squid monkey with tendrils and an opposable tail? Will I require extermination skills that only a Witcher possess to eradicate an embryonic abomination, cursed to wander the earth in purgative isolation?! Is it really an appropriate forum to discuss the particulars of my girlfriends gestational foetus with a rather demeaning poll? Well, if you don’t tell her about it, there wont be an issue. So hush your mouth!….please.

So what is it? I certainly have my suspicions.

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