It’s such a genius idea, it’s a wonder that nobody has thought of it sooner. In this age of celebrity, what could be more appropriate than ladies forking out fifteen thousand pounds to impregnate themselves with the sperm of a famous man.
Yes, it’s FameDaddy, and it’s not a hoax because it has been reviewed by national newspapers (but there again, so was the invasion of Iraq).
The concept is as simple as it is unworkable. Successful men will give up their time and bodily fluids to contribute to a sperm bank. Strangely perverse women will then spend large amounts of money for the frozen sperm. Result: Profit. And children.
The site gives examples of the types of men who might contribute to such a scheme. First up is an “ex-footballer”:
“Ex” because any current footballer is far too busy lying on the ground pretending to be hurt, or lying on top of the wife of another footballer and wasting all that wonderful celebrity sperm.
Another choice is a Formula 1 driver:
You can imagine the conversation when a representative from Fame Daddy calls Jenson Button:
Good morning Jenson. I know you do a lot of good work for charity, so I thought you would interested in giving some of yourself in a good cause.
What part of myself?
Your sperm.
What?!!
Your sperm, your cum, your jizz, your love juice, your man milk, your..
OK, I got it. What are you on about?
We want you to donate your sperm so that some lucky ladies can pay fifteen thousand pounds to have little Jensons.
And what do I get?
Nothing; except maybe a knock on the door in eighteen years time, which you answer to find a spotty-faced youth who looks surprisingly like you and who says “hello Daddy, give me some cash”.
Is that all?
No. First you will have to come and be interviewed and be subjected to a battery of tests which include the provision of samples of sperm, blood, bone marrow and brain tissue; all mixed together in a big jar. Haha; just joking. Oh, and then you will need a complete physical.
Is that all?
No. Tell me, what do you normally do on Tuesdays?
Well, Jessica and I lounge by the pool, then it is drinks overlooking the harbour in Monaco, a candlelit dinner at one of the best restaurants in town and then back to my place where Jessica slips on some lingerie, I slip on a Barry Manilow album; and then we make sweet love.
Sounds average. Have I got an alternative for you. Rather than wasting your baby gravy in, on and around young Jessica; you jump on an EasyJet flight to the UK and make your way by bus to our rather faded premises (we reimburse reasonable transport costs). We will place you in a poorly lit room with a magazine containing suspiciously crispy pages, featuring Photoshopped photos of a haggard slut from Barnsley called Debbie with unlikely breasts and crooked teeth. Suitably enthused, you will exude your love honey into a small container. Cup of tea and biscuits afterwards. How’s that for a value proposition?
Click
Jenson? Hello, Jenson?
For the potential sperm recipients, there is a multi-question quiz, with genetically significant questions such as:
I worked my way through, choosing the most obnoxious traits and rather expected the resulting father to be David Cameron. Instead it was someone I had never heard of:
Of course I am only sneering because I have not yet been invited to donate. You would have thought that “Slightly faded finance director” would be high on their list of required celebrities; although I would require that their “twice a week” donation schedule be modified to “twice a month, and only if I am in a perky mood, which doesn’t happen very often, just ask she who must be obeyed.”
I checked with acquaintances and Spacefruit confirmed that he was already a donor. At least that is what he told his girlfriend when she came home to find him being serviced by a couple of charming young ladies because “I am so well-endowed, I cannot handle the act of giving on my own”. Nik said he was still waiting the call, but they were “welcome to come and scrape some off my monitor.” Nice.
Instead of all this celebrity nonsense, Fame Daddy should just take a plastic bucket down to beach road and accept donations from the varied selection of sub-humanity that hangs around there. Mix it all up, stick it in the freezer and put a label on the outside saying “Formula 1 driver”. Anyone foolish enough to hand over fifteen thousand pounds will then get exactly the offspring they deserve.
Update: The Fame Daddy website is, perhaps thankfully for civilisation, a hoax. Still, I enjoyed writing about it and it means they won’t sue me.
Comments 🔗
2012-10-18| Craig saysyou had me at “baby gravy”
2012-10-18| Grant saysDamned bloody right! Hillarious! Funniest thing since grandma fell in the combine harvester and we had tomato soup for lunch! Boy are Fame Daddy ever going to want to get your ass in a sling, they’ll sue you clear to Mars and back! You’ll probably have to sell Spanky a lens or something…
2012-10-18| Jock saysBrilliant ! Spike at his best !
2012-10-18| Spike saysThanks guys, although on reflection I felt “wank” jarred a little so have performed a small edit. I think the most likely legal action is from Mr. Button for suggesting he likes Barry Manilow.
Disappointed that nobody has spotted the obvious homage to the bard of Manchester.
2012-10-18| Robin Parmar saysWas Shakespeare from Manchester?
2012-10-18| Spanky saysI took the test. I’m happy to report that I will have Barrack Obama. I think they figured out I was American.
2012-10-18| biggrtiggr saysWould suggest that the site is run by some spotty geek who’s had the bright idea of making some brass from the byproducts of his favourite hobby.
2012-10-18| genuinej saysIt turns out to have been an elaborate hoax after all, for which ITV and many others,(including Spike?), fell in spades. Been a good read though and the best laugh I’ve had since Jimmy Saville died.
2012-10-18| genuinej saysDo you mean the lard of Manchester, Wayne Rooney?
2012-10-18| Spike saysDid seem a bit too stupid to be true. Never mind, made for a fun post to write.
2012-10-18| Spike saysI think his proper title is Bard of Salford, but Manchester is close enough. http://www.cyberspike.com/clarke/conditio.html
2012-10-18| Grant saysI do love a well contrived hoax, in this angst-ridden PC age they are at risk of becoming a forgotten art form, just when there is so much more material around than ever before to take the piss out of. Great fun! And you won’t have to sell a lens…
2012-10-18| Grant saysHe describes himself as speaking “from a jaundiced old twat’s point of view.” That’s something we’re not entirely unfamiliar with, is it Spike? He could be quite likeable…
2012-10-19| Spike saysTalking of twat: http://youtu.be/p4qN9pduox0 Always loved the man, he can even tend towards musical: http://youtu.be/37QUUwp9xIs The British “Desolation Row”
2012-10-19| Grant saysThe man’s a flickin’ hero! Sort of a thinking man’s Kevin Bloody Wilson… He certainly had been listening to D/Row, and why not?
2012-10-19| Grant saysThank Dog you’re not having Mitt…