What Some Men Think About Abortion
The Ohio legislature just passed a ban on abortions occurring past six weeks. Many women don’t confirm their pregnancy until after that point, which means the bill effectively nulls Roe v. Wade. In the yawning mouth of a Trump presidency, I’m no longer confident that our efforts to fight this bullshit will succeed. I also doubt there’s much I can say in a serious tone that will illuminate this issue, or change anyone’s mind. So, fuck it. I wrote a satirical piece that illustrates what many of our lawmakers must think about women.
All these weepy women need to calm down about the abortion ban in Ohio. Let me explain. Basically, we had to pass this bill to stem the tide of your unprotected sex orgies. Seriously, girls, the hospital dumpsters are practically overflowing with dead babies. You always put sex first, in front of our right to grandkids. My advice: put your clothes back on and get a job. Except you, angels! You keep strutting around in your underwear.
We all know abortion isn’t about women’s rights or whatever. What you’re really scared of is gaining weight. You’re also probably not wild about skipping sushi and coffee for nine months. We understand, it’s a lot to take on. And if you’re a single mom, that bulge doesn’t help your chances of finding a new guy. After that, having a kid also cramps your love life. But abortion doesn’t solve these problems. It just makes you a soulless killer.
Besides, the weight issue isn’t a problem if you have self-discipline. Look at Adriana Lima. She had kids. Look at her.
Never mind, who am I kidding? Women who want abortions don’t have any self-discipline. That’s the whole problem.
Think about it. Let’s imagine we made abortion completely legal in this country. Well, I know it’s legal in theory. But in reality, we’ve regulated it so much the past two decades that you probably couldn’t get one. Anyway, imagine you could drop by Wal-Mart and have your unwanted kid sucked right out of you through your belly button. What, then? You go back to your weekend boozing and booty calls. You get pregnant again. You have another abortion. And so on.
That ugly cycle takes a toll on your fragile psychology. After five or six abortions, wouldn’t you start to hate yourself a little? Imagine who each of those six kids could’ve become.
Seriously, we need people to make iPhones.
Imagine all the taxes that kid would’ve paid. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for lost income.
This abortion ban is our way of doing you a huge favor.
Birth control is so expensive. You don’t want to pay for it. We don’t want to pay for it, either. We also don’t want to make your company pay for it, if you insist on having a job. Having a kid will hands down save you money over time. Trust us on this one. Diapers and pacifiers are way cheaper than all the money you’re throwing away on pills, booze, lingerie, glittery shoes, and bar covers. Let’s not even start with that dress you’re wearing. So expensive.
Some people say abortion bans will just increase unwanted pregnancies and “back alley abortions.” Sometimes they cite statistics. Well, think about this: maybe those people should die. That’s what Darwin would say. Natural selection. When evolutionary theory supports my views, I’m all for it.
But these critics are forgetting the power of social media. If we post just a few videos of “back alley” abortions gone wrong, I guarantee women will stop that shit.
Nothing compels us to moral action like a graphic YouTube video.
Things could be worse in Ohio. For instance, at least we’re not punishing the women. We could. Everyone got so riled up when Trump proposed punishing women for abortion. We jail crack addicts, don’t we? We don’t just arrest your dealer. How is abortion different? Hell, we should try women for murder if we’re really serious about this whole “life at conception” thing. But I guess some of the G.O.P is just too soft. Compromise, compromise, compromise.
Now, let’s tackle the rape question. First, I think we’ve all seen the research showing that women’s bodies don’t even allow fertilization or whatever during unwanted sex.
I’ve worked out a catchphrase: Unwanted sex doesn’t lead to unwanted pregnancies.
Like it? I think it would look great on a bumper sticker.
Anyway, if you got pregnant then it’s not because you were raped. You might call it “rape,” because you changed your mind later and wanted to get the guy in trouble for something he did, like maybe he didn’t spend the night, so you called it rape. You don’t want the kid, so you call it rape. It’s such an easy strategy. But here’s the thing: How do we really know you were raped? You can’t prove it.
Even if there were witnesses, you might’ve just been pretending. That would be the perfect strategy. Have great sex, pretend you don’t want it, and then cry “rape” so you don’t get stuck with a kid.
That’s basically what guys do. Except they don’t fake rape. They enjoy the sex, and then they bail if they don’t want the kid.
I’m sorry about that, by the way. There’s nothing we can do. Nothing in our constitution says a guy has to help raise your kid after fucking you. We’ll make him send you a check every now and then—if you can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s the dad. Good luck convincing him to take that paternity test.
Promiscuous women can’t be trusted. They’re always thinking up schemes with each other about how to make the government bank roll their sex lives. Wake up, girls. We’re wise to your act.
Medical exceptions don’t make much sense, either. Let’s face it. Having a baby is dangerous. Look at how many women used to die in childbirth. At least we solved that problem, mostly. Be grateful for that. Your risk of dying in childbirth has gone way down. You can’t expect us to eliminate it completely.
Nobody is asking you to get pregnant. I mean, maybe your husband and your parents and probably some of your friends. But definitely not us. I mean, we’d like you to have a kid, as long as it doesn’t cost taxpayers any money. All that tax money is reserved for wars and corporations.
You’re not obligated to have a kid. If the risk is too much, then just don’t do it. Besides, you should already be willing to die for your kid. What greater sacrifice could a mother make than give her life during birth? Just imagine the epitaph you’ll get. If your timing is just right, you can grab your husband and pull him close, maybe say something poetic like, “I know you’ll love Isaac enough for the both of us.” Then you’ll fall back, with your hair draped beautifully over the hospital pillows. Your husband will cradle little baby Isaac while caressing your cheek one last time.
You’re practically assured a Lifetime movie, and at least some mentions in Christian documentaries. Maybe someone will even dedicate an inspirational memoir to you.
Relatives will brag about you for years to come, and you won’t even have to change a single diaper. If I were you, I’d even hope I died in childbirth. You go out on a complete high. Nobody can live up to that shit. Now, doesn’t that sound so much better than waking up in a stranger’s bed every weekend?
Featured image by DonkeyHotey via Flickr.