Thursday, December 30, 2010

2 Birds, 1 Stone: Why You're Pregnant, Why Nobody Cares

I learned a few weeks ago that a lovely graduate from my school missed out on her period. Ghasp, does this mean she's pregnant? Precisely. But what is even better that nobody gives a shit that she is. You see, I am all for procreation. But sometimes, it isn't the time for that. Especially when you're going to college and working under the clutches of the evil Walt Disney at minimum wage, forcing out that smile you're waiting to drop when tourists walk by you. As you stand there, waiting for your break, you bitch and moan how your life is miserable and wasted. But do you ever rethink it? When you are getting pounded by Mr. Superman, did it ever occur to you that not wearing that thin latex around Clark Kent's Anaconda would be a bad thing? And letting Kent babies intrude your cave?

I have sympathy for lots of people: Stricken with poverty, famine, abuse, and so on. But when you are willingly giving it up to your "superhero", I tend to not give a fuck about your problems. I'm not trying to be a snappy, bitter person; but sometimes you have to blame yourself. Complaining about how your Kryptonian lover just nailed you like the pretty little portrait you are isn't going to get you anywhere.

Face it: the biggest mistake you made was opening your legs. Next time, don't flash your new Victoria Secret underwear. Sure, bright pink G-Strings are good around your ankles, but keep them firmly on your waist next time you see your red-caped hubby fly around you.


[Inspired by a very true story ;) ]