Watching octomom on Entertainment Tonight last night (I know, I know, not exactly the most intellectual endeavor). But, driving to work this morning, and noticing how my fifties-esque dress made me look---shall we say, slightly pregnant--- I had a horrifying thought. What if I did accidentally have some type of extreme lapse of judgement and let some guy's spermazoid attach to one of my eggs? With my budget, paying for diapers, cribs, daycare, etc... would mean I would have to stop buying shoes. Sacré bleu! Thank the lord for modern contraception. Let's see what the catholic church has to say about using visualization as birth control. I bet they'd like it.
Just think, you're in the heat of the moment, and nobody has a condom. Then you think "Do I risk it? Do I risk losing it all? Those snakeskin booties, hot pink heels, thigh high patent boots, pewter croc platforms?" I think not. Is it worth the time he takes to get off (most guys average 3 minutes max), for a lifetime of fabulous shoes? Hells no. I'll take shoes over diapers any day.
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