“Oh, how I hate fatherhood.”
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Dear Ely,
My annoying wife keeps pestering me to impregnate her. I like all the sex, but I really don’t want to have kids and start a family. When we were dating, I told her that I did want children – but that was just a lie to make her like me. She should have known that all men lie to women. Now she expects me to totally rearrange my life so I can help her raise some stupid little baby? It’s ridiculous! I love my life as it is now, and I can’t let it change. Any advice on how I can prevent impregnation without having to confront my wife with my true feelings?
Sincerely,
Davy-No-Baby
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Dear Davy-No-Baby,
Let me summarize your problem: you lied to your wife about wanting a family; you’re actually too selfish to devote your life to raising a child; and you want to weasel your way out of the situation without confronting or confessing the truth. A sleazy, sneaky, selfish liar: you are the perfect embodiment of modern man. Well done, sir!
Now, to see that your sleazy, sneaky selfishness triumphs. Unfortunately, the best way to accomplish your soulless goal involves some minor self-mutilation. You need to sabotage your baby-making machinery. Sterility, son!
Wear tight pants and even tighter underwear. Excessive heat stifles sperm production, and the tight-crotched clothes will create a hot little oven to bake your balls. Your sweaty scrotum may start radiating a nasty odor, and the tight-pant look may not be so flattering, but that’s the price you pay to burn down your sperm factory.
These are your enemies now!
Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Another fertility killer is traumatic testicular impact. Punch your nuts, viciously and repeatedly. Do it until you cry. Do it until you vomit. Do it until you wish your own father had done the same thing so you never would’ve been born. Then do it some more. If you’re not man enough to bash your own ballsack, pay someone else to do it. In today’s tough economy, I’m sure there are loads of frustrated people out there who would LOVE to get that particular job.
You could also drown your sperm in a sea of alcohol. Have you ever seen a drunk guy stumbling down the street, weaving this way and that, bumping into every person and lamppost that crosses his path? Well, picture your drunken sperm banging into each other or haphazardly crashing into the walls of the fallopian tubes, hopeless to ever reach and fertilize the egg. Of course, if one of your boozed-up swimmers does manage to hit the bulls-eye, there’s a good chance that the fetus will be developmentally retarded. But hey, that’s why God created abortions, right?
Any of these practices will increase your chances of sterility, but if you combine all three, you are almost guaranteed to never produce a child through natural means. Good luck on your quest to remain the all-important center of your tiny, selfish universe.
Peace, Love, and No Awful Offspring,
Ely North
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