Word Up, Sister!

The breeding fad has been around for too long, and it needs to stop.  You people are doing this for the wrong reasons.  You don’t have children due solely to the urge to love, take care of, and raise a child with dignity and respect.  You are having children for the worst reasons imaginable, and none of you have the presence of mind to think about why you want this baby so badly. (I have found it is usually along the lines of “Gee, honey what would a child of ours look like?  Let’s find out.”)   

Accidental babies.  “Oops, I’m pregnant.  Abortion is murder.  So, I’ll just keep it.”  First of all abortion is NOT murder.  Consider it a man-made tier of natural selection.  It is healthy and necessary.  Think of it as removing a tumor, only with a fetus you don’t have to undergo chemo therapy afterward.  Yes, it is hard to do, but so is raising a child if you aren’t ready or prepared to do so.   Speaking personally here… I am one of the accidental children and it was horrifying.  My mother had me at the tender age of 16.  On several occasions thru life, my mother would get very drunk, and sternly informed me that I was an accident, and that my life was the utter ruin of hers.  She married my drunken father, due to her pregnancy and hasn’t forgiven me since.  I know damn good and well that it isn’t my fault… now.  But these things are traumatizing to hear at age 7 and 9 and 14 and 15.  She’s a good woman, but she was never suited to be a parent.  Women who are not prepared for pregnancy are not prepared for motherhood. Simple fact.  Maternal instincts are a myth.  If you are “suited” to motherhood then you are suited for it.  But don’t hold your breath and hope for the love of poopie diapers and high pitched screaming to overtake you in a wave of ecstacy.  It will never happen.   

Worse yet, some kids are born to women who can’t find stability in any other relationship.  If they are pregnant, they’ll often rationalize it with “at least a baby will love me forever.”  That is an incredible and unfair weight to put upon the shoulders of a newborn baby.  Shame on you!  Get a hamster!  A baby is completely controllable and has no opinions of its own… temporarily.  What will you do when they get older, you have to learn enough social skills to keep up with them?  When you want to live a life, wide in variety and freedom, what will you tell your child?  Remember your parents?  So, do you recall the unfair expectations that they laid upon you during your tender years?  Or perhaps you fondly remember their exceptional neglect due to an interest in other things?  They were put under the same pressures as you, learn from their mistakes.  

Here’s a good one.  “My mother wants me to have kids.”  “My mother wants me to get married… to a man.”  I was raised to have the utmost respect for mothers.  Particularly those who are old enough to be my mother.  However, your mother had her shot at breeding.  She can’t tell you what to wear anymore (and if she can, seek help).  She shouldn’t be telling you when to breed, nor that you even have to in the first place.  That is your decision!  Stand up for yourself.  Be an adult.  You don’t have to have children if you don’t want to.

 Let me break things down for you: Babies are cute sometimes.  This a defense mechanism provided by nature, nothing more.  One baby is just like another.  It is not a precious and individual snowflake.  It’s a yowling larvae sack!   

Giving birth is not a “miracle”.  Pregnancy is a chemical reaction and should be treated as such.  A + B = Fetus.  It was perhaps referred to as a miracle back in the days when people did not realize that sex and pregnancy had anything to do with each other.  Women just brought forth life in those days without obvious cause or warning.  But now a days we are well aware of the cause and effects, yet the “miracle” is spreading like the plague.   Producing offspring will not… I repeat… WILL NOT make your life “all better”.  It won’t make your life “complete”.  It won’t heal your marriage.  It won’t stop your husband from screwing around.  It won’t make you more attractive nor cure your menstrual issues.  And that “passing down the family name crap” lost any meaning centuries ago, and it only ever had meaning to men (the selfish bastards)! It won’t provide you with someone who’ll care for you when you’re old.   It won’t even provide you with a guaranteed Mother’s Day gift every year.  These are lies and myths that you have been spoon fed from birth.  The moment your mother had you she started training you for making babies! Children have been reduced to vanity projects.  Happy to break it to ya, but you can get more love and fulfillment from pet store!  Get a cat or a hobby!  Volunteer at a Woman’s shelter.  Help raise money for Cancer survivors without insurance.  Take some pride in yourself instead of expecting a spit-gargling meat sack to fulfill all of your hopes and dreams with their mere existence.   

Adoption.  Now that is a time worthy endeavor.  There are millions of children that have no one to care for them, with the exception of a government clerk that isn’t really required to “care”.   I have asked people time and time again why they have given birth to children instead of adopting.  I am often given half hearted excuses about there being couples out there that can’t have children and blah blah blah. This is utter bullshit.  There aren’t enough non-breeding couples to house these helpless children.  If there were, enough childless couples, foster care wouldn’t be such a nightmare.  But it is. 

Others who favor childbirth, do so because they feel that a child won’t mean anything to them unless it shares their bloodline.  This line of thinking makes no sense to me.  If this is such a problem, then perhaps you shouldn’t strive for children at all…just a suggestion.  

  My reasoning for advocating adoption is that if you adopt you have to really want it. You have to jump through hoops of fire and fill out paperwork and be completely committed to the pursuit of a child. Instead of, just realizing you’re pregnant one day and hoping that it turns out for the best. Therefore, using a baby as a vain attempt to permanently commemorate a beautiful loving and magical relationship that “mysteriously” breaks up once the child is born and reality officially sets in. No relationships are permanent. Only the effects are. I personally would rather tattoo my boyfriends name on my forehead then have a child with him. The former destroys fewer lives than the latter.

Bottom line.  There is no reason to give birth.  Pure and simple. If you want a baby so badly, you should pursue an avenue that has some dignity.  Adopt a child, they are the ones that really need your love and care.    

  Abortion.  Along with popular belief I am all for it!  I saw a bumper sticker a few days ago (inspiring this little rant) and it said “How can you say there are too many children? That’s like saying there are too many flowers.”  Honetly!  I followed this woman until she parked and then asked her if she pulled dandelions and other weeds from her garden!  What are dandelions?  Unwanted flowers!     So, morale of the rant boils down to; be an adult and don’t breed.  Adopt a child or get a pet.  Educate our young women on the “miracle” with a lot more facts and less biased toward breeding.  Make birth control and condoms available for anyone who is physically able to use it!  Make abortion legal in all 50 states and keep it that way until we actually have some reason to give birth again.  Stop reducing our gender to the role of “baby factory” and have some self respect.  Thank you!

I have a spider in my bathroom, an English House spider to be exact. I sometimes imagine her breaking out the tea set with sugar and honey, inviting her friends to join her in polite conversation about the weather and the latest fashions.  I never seem to make it to these parties. Very delicate and long legged is this type of spider, much like daddy-long-legs, but more streamlined, more graceful. The thought of killing her has occurred to me.  Goddess knows she isn’t the only spider in the house, and certainly wouldn’t be the first spider to see the underside of my shoe.  But for some reason, I just can’t do it.  She built her web in relation to the wall and the bathtub, directly in front of the toilet.  She built it such a way that during my morning bathroom rituals I don’t bother her and she doesn’t bother me, but she is in full view of everything.  I wonder if she considers my bathroom to be her kingdom, and then my commonsense kicks in, of course she does. I suppose that I can’t just kill a female that is so brazen, such a rare breed.  Besides, she eats flies.  Bonus!

Last night I had a rare honor.  I went to the restroom, and as I sat down to do my business I noticed that her web had two spiders.  They were like mirror images of each other. They made slow gestures that seemed aggressive in their placement.  As I noticed this I pondered whether or not spiders were territorial creatures.  What I mean to say is, do spiders try to take over another’s hunting grounds?  Was I watching a spider duel?  I was intrigued.  This went on for a minute or so, and suddenly the mirror image stretched out his fangs and then lurched his body forward.  They connected and got sort of tangled. It looked like quite a struggle.  Ihad expected one of them to stop moving, but when that didn’t happen an idea occurred to me…Spider Sex! Her majesty had a guest. I suddenly felt awkward for gawking at the entire arrangement without recognizing what it was. Am I jaded?  I felt dirty.  I felt so dirty, that I ran to the other room to grab my recorder.  I already feel guilty, why not go to the next level.   As I recorded the “last leg” of their entanglement, something occurred to me.  How many spiders have watched me make mad passionate monkey lovings?  I would imagine that there are quite a few considering my “passion” for the out-of-doors.  With that in mind I felt justified in recording the exchange.   

It must have been what spiders consider the missionary position.  Do spiders have different positions? Is there a “spider style”?  You know, your body doesn’t move all that much but you flail your arms and legs around wildly like you just won the fucking lottery.  What about spider foreplay?  Do they “play around” a bit first or do they just greet and go in dry?  Can spiders speak to each other?  If so, would they talk dirty?

And what should I do with the video?  I’ve got it. It’s spider porn that I can sell to lonely spider singles all over the planet via (are you ready?  This is a bad one.  Brace yourself.) the world…wide…web.

One of my few certainties is that I will die.  It is a fact.  But how will it happen?  I feel cheated by death already, because I know that I won’t get to see the last scene of the movie that I am such a part of.  The packing up and moving on scene that wraps everything up and gives the viewer a sense of completion and closure.  I want my money back! Or at least a hand in the writing process. 

The idea of death has brought me to the thought of my funeral. Ugh!  That could go badly!  So badly.  You cannot fathom the bad.  First of all, the prep for the funeral. This is where my relatives go thru my house to “clean up” and fight over my meager possessions.  And they inevitably find instead my staggering collection of dildos and other sex related paraphernalia.   Whips and chains and candlewax, Oh MY!  ***If any of my dear friends are reading this … take note.  Should I kick the bucket.  Break into my house and grab my sex toys.  Distribute them amongst  yourselves, first cum first served rules apply.  Consider it a keepsake that could only come from the likes of me.  *smirk. 
But keep the naked pictures of me and post them on the bulletin board at the funeral when no one is looking.  I would really enjoy that!  Especially the ones of me spinning fire topless.  I am quite proud of those. If you can’t find them, I am sure that Brandon still has copies. 
Things I would like to see happen at my funeral…A bar fight…Should my family insist on a christian style funeral…I want the preacher to leave with a limp and a bloody lip, my friends and family exchanging blows and howling at the moon. “Where is the cooler?  I need a beer and some ice before I go back in there to kick some more ass.”  People are angry in general and never have the opportunity to express it!  Let this be that opportunity.  Take all the anger that you acquire on a daily basis, take that fuel, beat someone over the head with a hymnal and light a fucking match!
 I want people to show up naked.  I want my friends to get arrested at my funeral for indecent exposure and plead guilty proudly.  Cover yourselves in mud and wrestle, winner gets all of my worldly possessions (with the exception of the sex toys.  See above).  And some tricky bastard should tumble the coffin.  It’s just an empty, freshly embalmed shell with no further use anyway.  Give the folks in the back row a laugh, for Goddess sake. 
I want a drum circle at my grave, and some Irish bastard to holler drinking songs about booze and tits and blue ribbons, thru a keg.  And bagpipes!  I want some fucking bagpipes, played badly! 
I want blunt honesty…I was a shithead so don’t paint your face with regret and talk about how much of an “angel” I was.  The most flattery I could expect is for everyone at the “party” to share a moment when I made them laugh. That is something consistent about me.  I have made everyone I know laugh at some point or another. Sometimes it is laughter thru frustration, but it still counts as laughter, right?