Because dating is hard, yo.
Once you’ve passed through university’s digestive tract, it becomes much harder to play the dating game. Work colleagues are (unless you have a penchant for blistering awkwardness) well out of bounds, and free time suddenly vanishes in a fog of tea and tracksuits and terrible television, rather than a coy dalliance with a handsome stranger in a bar. Getting into a relationship becomes almost as difficult as getting out of it.
Mother Nature showed mercy on some of our love-crazed planet’s inhabitants, though. Here’s hoping that science learns a trick or two from these lucky buggers before menopause hits.
I wish I were an amoeba
osmoregulating
asexual in nature
no need to worry ’bout dating.
I wish I were a plankton
floating in the sea
just gotta divide in two
with no-one to think of but me.
I wish I were an aphid
parthenogenetic
don’t need no man to multiply
cos fertilization’s synthetic.
I wish I were a seahorse
good times are a-go-go
bloke deals with gestation
female involvement’s a no-go.
I wish I were more yeast-like
(jolly good for baking)
to reproduce by “budding”
and totes forget the love-making.
