Today Hermaphrodite Bass, Tomorrow..?

For years I’ve been hearing a familiar refrain from my supermodels:

There are not enough men in DC. Real Men. That’s why I lowered my standards and dated you.

For years I’ve also laughed off that comment because, well, its true and I’ll take a clock-stopping hot supermodel any way I can.

Still, I’ve always wondered if there was any rationale for that comment, or if it was just a stock whine women had, like remembering their names and such. Then I read today’s Male Bass Across Region Found to Be Bearing Eggs Washington Post article.

(Men, you might wanna hold your nuts while you read this next paragraph)

More than 80 percent of all the male smallmouth bass [federal and state researchers] found were growing eggs, including all of the fish caught at four of the seven survey sites [in Potomac tributaries]. The intersex condition doesn’t change the fish’s outward appearance but can be detected under a microscope.

At the site in Washington, seven of 13 male largemouth bass showed some kind of unusual feminine characteristic. Six of the seven fish tested positive for a protein used to produce eggs, and three of the seven contained eggs, Blazer said.

Yes, you read that right, the Potomac has a hermaphrodite bass problem. Over 50% of the male fish ain’t 100% man bass.

What does this mean for us humans, drinking and bathing in Potomac water every day? The officials say:

“I don’t know, and I don’t think anybody knows, the answer to that question right now: Is the effect in the fish transferable to humans?” said Thomas Jacobus, general manager of the Washington Aqueduct

Well I think we do know the answer to that question. I know, I know the answer. Before moving to DC, I was a Real Man – I worked construction, I drove a pick-up truck, I even knew NASCAR drivers, some personally.

Now, after eight years of endocrine disrupting Potomac woman-water, I know the difference between fuchsia and chartreuse, get mani-pedis bi-weekly, and once a month go on a Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk binge.

We’ll not even start on my lisp or man-tits.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Married, mortgaged, and soon to be a father, Wayan Vota is in the fast lane to mid-life respectability – until the day his brood finds his intimate journal of global traveling and curses him with the ever-eternal reply “I’m gonna be just like you, Dad!”

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