“Birth Control and Scientists,” a guest column by author Louis Sachar

I always strap up.

Always.

I trust birth control like I trust a great white to not use teeth during a blowjob .  No way I´m betting the best years of my life on whether or not a girl took the correct pill of the hundreds of identical ones in the merry go round pack.  But lets go out on a limb and say she solved that riddle and ends up taking the right pill, well it still only works “most of the time.”

What the fuck.

We put a man on the moon and thirty years later we still only can prevent contraception 99% of the time? When it comes to having a baby or not I’m looking for something better than “control.”  A vague ass word like that doesn’t inspire any confidence for me.  What about when the police have a riot under “control?” At that point there’s still an angry mob of people throwing stones, flipping cars and chanting in unison.  The only difference is police have just gathered around it like it’s a fucking campfire.  Or take New Orleans for example, the levees “controlled” the water.  They “controlled” it until they all  collapsed simultaneously and the city flooded.

Nah, “control” is just not definitive enough for me.  Unless I’m raw dogging Oprah, the waddling gold-mine, or Emma Watson, the perfect-ten financially secure she-wizard, I want to use something more along the lines of “Birth Eliminator” or “Child Blockade 8000.”  And still only if they came with a little seal that guarantees your money if it doesn’t work.

But is just getting your money back really enough? I want a contraceptive that has such seed killing prowess the company will pay for the abortion if the Michael Phelps of sperm is somehow able to swim through.  And in the utopian society where this product is offered, the company wouldn’t even charge a separate processing fee when they wired you the reimbursement.

To dream.

Most people don’t know that if the girl fucks up even one pill the effectiveness can drop as much as 50%!! The worst part being nothing looks or feels different than if it was “controlling” up to its 99% potential.  Can’t they just send a sign, an all clear if you will, that the gears of artificial contraception machine are all spinning in unison?  Inventing a birth control that when working to its 99% potential turns the girls’ tongue blue, or gives her a nosebleed can’t be too farfetched.

Shit would make a world of difference.

And I figure that’s not that much of a stretch because fuck, we’ve got a cure for malaria, we’ve got internet on our phones, Jack and Jill did 75 million box office and legendary Al Pacino was in it for some reason.  These previously unimaginable occurring confirm what an uncreative marketing exec at Adidas once said, “Impossible is Nothing.”

But seriously, I hate the notion that because we have one medical advancement we should have all these others ones like:

“Ohhh why can’t we just get a fuckin teleporter man I mean we already have spaceships?!!?”

Alright slow the fuck down pre-teen stoner.  The idea of teleportation gets my dick as hard as anyone’s, but let’s give the scientific community the props they deserve before we start asking for more.

Earlier today I talked to my buddy face to face with him on ANOTHER CONTINENT thanks to video chat.  Then after that a satellite in outer space beamed me a high definition video of two people fucking on a busy street in Paris. Now why would I need to teleport when I can get all that without even moving from my chair?

Shit, with teleportation you’ve got to go get into the machine, change the settings, punch in the correct coordinates ect.  Meanwhile, I can access basically everything I want sitting down with one hand in my pants and the other toggling between ESPN and ESPN2.

Wow is living in the 21st century easy.

In summation, a company needs to invent a 100% effective birth control pill that provides a visual to show it’s working.  That is, at least until we press forward with the obvious solution of installing ultra-fast wind turbines into girls’ snatches that slice up the sperm.

 

“He who sits is he who endures”

-Mother Theresa

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