On Producing Humans

This weeks cranky contribution comes from my super sexy gal pal, Quorri Scharmyn

And BTW, I totally agree with her rant here...

Two things: stop assuming I am a baby factory and stop expecting me to be super stoked that you are having ten trillion of the disgusting creatures.

I am a woman, I am intelligent, I am attractive, and all of my reproductive capabilities would have been in order had I not chosen to dismember them. I have a successful career and am financially stable. Before I became voluntarily sterilized, people assumed that these qualities meant that I would have children. The part that is retarded about this is that no one assumes the same about men. No one walks up to a man of a similar situation and asks, “So, when are you going to have children?” Plus, when men choose to get sterilized, doctors generally don’t tell them they can’t do it because they aren’t married yet or haven’t had children yet. This is so very messed up. It took me seven years of pleading and begging and searching and dealing before I found a doctor who would perform sterilization on me. Every man I’ve ever talked to who has done the same exact procedure has found one on the first try.

And, seriously, when you ask me when I’m going to have kids and I tell you never, stop responding with some version of, “You’ll change your mind,” with that mental, supposedly knowing look that is often paired with a wink. No, I won’t change my mind, you blinking moron. Fifteen straight years of being absolutely solid on this matter has proven that. And I’m pretty sure my fallopian tubes are made up even more than my mind is, anyhow, so it wouldn’t matter even if I did somehow decide that slobbering bags of poop production were the best thing for my future. Besides, let’s get real, you telling me that I will change my mind about not having kids is like me asking you, “So, when did you decide to get pregnant? Oh, well, you’ll change your mind, don’t worry. It’ll happen, sooner or later.” That would be rude. That would be in bad taste. Just like it is when you do it.

Why are women supposed to have baby production as their main goal in life, anyway? Why is it so strange to so many people that I think letting a literal parasite take over my entire body and every single, vital system I have a disgusting prospect? Why is it so strange to people that I truly love my life as it is and absolutely never want to give up the majority of my time, money, and peace of mind for a little sack of flesh that will thanklessly produce mounds of fecal matter and sputum for me to dispose of, only to then develop the ability to speak and think for itself so that it can spite me intentionally? No thanks. Plus, I like my girly parts firm and intact not stretch marked, ripped up, and worn out.

Important side note: my nipples are for sucking only sexually, not for feeding other humans.

So, it goes almost without saying that I am also not stoked when other people decide to ruin their bodies, minds, bank accounts and self esteem in order to be sick for nine months and then miserable for another 18-24 years. Yay for you, if you’re doing it, but don’t expect me to be as enrapt as you are by the little thing’s developmental successes which, by the way, every single human on the face of the planet has also likely experienced. Your child is only special and wonderful to you, the rest of us are bored shitless by it and want you to shut up.

Last thought: babies add “9,441 metric tons of CO2 to a parent's collective carbon footprint.” (Huffington Post) That means that, before you call me selfish for wanting to live my life for myself instead of for a whiny brat raised in a society that forces it to be an entitled, vapid, shallow idiot, think about who is really being selfish. You will be someone who gave up the planet’s health to indulge your own personal desire to pass on your flawed genetics, I will be someone who led a happy life and contributed less to the planet’s demise. Who is selfish now?