Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Birds Do It, Bees Do It, I Did It, You Did It.

Really, how many people do you know who didn't have sex while still a teenager? I know one person. Oh wait—two. I think PianoLady held out for marriage. (Sorry if I just outed you, PL.) And FOMC. That's the sum total of all the people I know in the world who didn't have sex as teenagers. (Mid-day correction: two more of my male friends have informed me they are in the post-teen category. One adamantly stated: "but I didn't want to belong to that club!)

Why do we act so freaking surprised when a teenager gets pregnant? And why in General Tso's name is poor little Bristol Palin gonna marry this guy? Hasn't anybody in her family done the research on the odds against that marriage working? Doesn't she have a big enough liability in having a mother who's running for Vice President of the United States? (You notice I didn't say "who's going to be . . . .") Has anybody reading this blog read this dude's MySpace page (the baby's father)? (And you know I don't use the sobriquet "dude" easily. I reserve it for dudes like him. That boy's got a big L stamped on his forehead.) You know Governor Palin is against contraceptives being made available in high schools. And you know when contraceptives are not made available, the rate of STDs increases.

Does anyone really believe abstinence as a method of contraception works in a population with raging hormones?

My birthmother got pregnant for the first and only time, "out of wedlock", as they say, when she was 37. (Hoo, boy, has anybody done a dissertation on the word "wedlock"?) She left Massachusetts and went to hide in Florida for six months or so. Aren't we beyond that?

I just think it's horribly hypocritical that teenage pregnancy happens on a daily basis in every state in the Union, and then it happens to the daughter of this incompetent that McCain has decided will get the women's vote, and everybody goes Nucking Futz.

I saw a Disgruntled Republican bumper sticker today. I think I'll order one.

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