Should I die, this blog will serve as my son's source of virtual mama.

If I live, I won't have to repeat myself.

sigers writes fiction and nags her son in austin, texas. 

#Iwantyouto know what to do should you become a baller.

Should you (despite my best efforts to make you Mark Zuckerberg) become a professional athlete instead, I have a little plan for you. It sounds crazy, but you’ll thank me later. 

Because oh, Muffinstuffs, the floozies are going to fling themselves at you. And you, being a man, will probably be unable to completely pass them up.

Wear. A. Condom. AIDS will kill you.

But tons of baby mamas will be the death of you, too.  Because I will kill you. And because these floozies are on a mission. They want to anchor themselves to you by having your baby. Possibly forcing a marriage. Just so they can get access to fame, reality TV show stardom and Lanvin. 

Here’s what I want you to do: Right before you are drafted, bank your sperm for later, and get a vasectomy. Tell no one about either. ESPECIALLY NOT THE FLOOZIES/GIRLFRIENDS/ETC. Have your … fun. Get a really good doctor and see him often.

When you are ready to get married, then reverse it. 

Don’t TELL anyone about the vasectomy because if she ain’t messin’ with no broke, broke? You want her to fall into the trap early as possible. She shouldn’t know that she HAS to get you to the altar to get haaaaaaa-lllf, Ed-DEE. So if some chick starts talking about “your” baby, you don’t have to wait a drama-filled nine months to release the hounds. 

If you are afraid of them cutting on your winky, then that’s all the more reason to get it done. Baby Mamas are way more painful and their pain lasts 18 YEARS. 

#iwantyouto remember there's a real me behind this mommy.