Once upon a time, there was a man named Dr. Condom...

I'm having morning... nausea. Not that it means anything, because I have proven time and time again that I am completely infertile, but it brings me to an interesting story.

In sixth or seventh grade, I had to take this baby-sitting course, and one of the requirements was to baby sit for a real live child.

I just found out that the child I did my test run on, is pregnant. She's sixteen and pregnant.

Not that this is such an unusual occurance in my hometown. For some reason, teens can't figure out how to use a condom and parents don't believe in abortion.

Not that I'm a big advocate of abortion but when your sixteen year old daughter is pregnant, it's probably a good idea. I mean, realistically, I feel as though I'm way too young to have children, and I'm twenty one.

So here's my brilliant idea. get all of the not yet sexually active teens of manitoba a puppy with seperation anxiety and make them take care of it. Believe me, two weeks of that bullshit and they'll put on a fucking condom.

I'm sorry if I've turned this into a non-sensical rant but I've already thrown up twice this morning and eloquent and well thought out went out the window a long time ago.