In my dreams I am a man named Pierre and have three arms. My third arm is not a tentative genetic aberration like a flipper or feeler or wimpy ghost of an ancestral tail. It’s as arm-like as my other two, both of which are quite arm-like. It is a thing to behold, this third arm, an evolutionary leap forward in the human chain, thrusting mankind far beyond his (and her) potential as a two-armed beast. Yes, it’s a decisive third arm, a dominant trait with a subliminal animal musk that has women everywhere overtaken by instinctual urges to unite their ova with my spermatozoa. Click to read the article.