“You’re what?” How you knocked that girl up.
Wondering how it is that someone you’ve known for a grand total of one hour can come to play a critical, unwanted role in the rest of your life? Well, did you know that pro athletes are more prone to impregnating women than men in any other profession? It’s true. And it’s not just because athletes are often irresponsible and lack good judgment. No, physiology also plays a vital role. Let me show you just how God creates those little bastards we call children, and why you’re more vulnerable to having them than most.
As an athlete, you possess a penis much larger than the average man’s. As such, there’s a good chance that your monstrous appendage could, in fact, penetrate the cervix and deliver sperm right into the fallopian tubes of your conquest. This gives your sperm an incredible head start in the marathon race to reach a woman’s egg. Now, instead of having to go cross-country to get some hot membrane-penetrating action, your boys are just a hop, skip, and jump away. This detailed, anatomical diagram shows you the depth of your penetration:
If your penis is even bigger than the one depicted here, there is a chance that you could skewer your sexual partner completely, like a human corn dog. Once your boys hit pay dirt, there’s no going back. You couldn’t talk that girl into an abortion even if you convinced her you were Satan himself. Prevention is the key. And you know what that means: birth control.
Now, the most effective form of birth control out there, obviously, is the birth control pill. Birth control pills are easily identifiable. They usually come in a circular blister pack and are located on top of your lady’s dresser. No doubt you’ve dialed the pills around once or twice just for shits and giggles, pretending like it’s some kind of kickass submarine depth-charge dial. This blister pack is embossed with a graphic design that looks similar to the chick on the Emmy statue, back arched and head tilted toward the sky. It’s a design that communicates a woman’s temporary freedom from the punishing lifelong agony of childbirth and child-rearing. You’ll also find a corporate yet feminine name for the drug somewhere on the pack, such as Yasmin, or Juvistop, or Babykill.
The pill is touted by many as being 100 percent effective. The only problem, of course, is that you have to rely on the woman to take it. Which makes it all but worthless as a dependable contraceptive for you, Mr. Potential Lifelong Benefactor. So what other forms of birth control are there that you control? Well, that IUD you bought doesn’t work for dudes. Trust me. I gave it a whirl. Not fun.
In fact, most every form of birth control is dependent upon the woman for its application. The pill, the patch, the diaphragm, the injection, the custom-built vaginal bear trap: all are subject to the whims of a woman you probably do not trust. Shit.
What does that leave? Looks like you’re stuck with the good ol’ fashioned condom. The condom, while annoying, does have its benefits. Sure, a condom makes sex feel like a handjob from Madge the Palmolive woman (Look, Madge! I soaked!). But it does help protect you from nasty infectious diseases like AIDS and more. I suggest you keep a three-pack of condoms on your person at all times, even while bathing. Also, be sure to pre-tear each wrapper for easy access and less fumbling. And no flavored condoms. If you haven’t figured out yet that those are for the gay community, you may be beyond help. And no neon condoms either. Sure, it’s fun to imagine yourself as some sort of sexual Darth Vader, but more often than not it just makes your dick look silly. And sex is not supposed to be silly.
But whatever you do, use that condom! If you don’t, your big fat cock is almost certain to be used as God intended it, and not as you intended it. The result?
Only eighteen years to go: how to handle pesky baby mommas.