Why I Should Never Have Kids

There are at least eight million reasons why I shouldn’t have kids. For instance, I’m irresponsible, I’m lazy, I don’t like anything that I have to feed more than once a day, I don’t deal well with other people’s shit (literally), and god knows what else. But I think near the top of the list is my inability to be anything other than brutally honest. I can just imagine the conversations I would end up having whenever my offspring felt like it was a good idea to ask daddy a question.

Little Shit: Daddy?
NDC: Move; you’re blocking the TV. Actually, run and get daddy another beer really quick.
Little Shit: Ok. [Scurries off to fetch daddy a beer] Here you go.
NDC: Thanks.
Little Shit: Daddy?
NDC: What?
Little Shit: Where do babies come from?
NDC: Loose women, too much alcohol, and bad decisions.
Little Shit: What does that mean?
NDC: Do you really want to know?
Little Shit: Yes.
NDC: Are you sure you’re old enough?
Little Shit: I think so.
NDC: Alright, but don’t tell your mother about this.
Little Shit: I won’t. There are a lot of things we don’t tell mommy.
NDC: I know. You’re keeping them all secret right?
Little Shit: Right.
NDC: Good job. You see, it takes two people to make a baby; that would be your mother and me. When a man and a woman meet each other and are drunk enough to find the other person attractive then it becomes the man’s sole purpose at that moment to take that lady back to his place for lots of sex. In order to make himself feel better about screwing some random bitch the man continues to drink heavily until he has convinced himself that this is a great idea. The woman keeps drinking as well because, let’s face it, your daddy isn’t very attractive. But that’s ok.
Little Shit: Uh huh.
NDC: Once they are both drunk enough to make some bad decisions they will leave the party, or the bar, or the strip club, or the crack house and go someplace more intimate and private. Like the woods right behind the house or the back seat of a car or the convenience store bathroom. They will then proceed to have sex. Boys and girls are different; boys have a dick and women have a pussy; boys have an outie and women have an innie, understand?
Little Shit: I think so.
NDC: If the woman is drunk enough then the man is able to convince the woman that it would be a great idea for her to put his dick in her mouth until it gets hard enough to stick in her pussy. This might take awhile because the man is, almost certainly, amazingly drunk. Once the man is hard enough he bends the woman over the sink, so that he doesn’t have to look at her face, lifts up her skirt and places his outie inside the woman’s innie.
Little Shit: Ok.
NDC: It’s usually three minutes after that that the man realizes he doesn’t have a condom on and he has no idea if this woman is on the pill or not. He could stop having sex to ask the woman, but then there’s the chance that the woman might make him stop. At this point the man convinces himself that the woman is on the pill and then he just hopes like mad that woman doesn’t have a diseased cooch. Approximately two minutes after that the man will have an orgasm. That’s where it feels really good for the man and the man shoots cum inside the woman.
Little Shit: Do women have orgasms too?
NDC: No honey. They don’t.
Little Shit: Oh.
NDC: After that the guy grabs the nearest towel or the girls shirt and wipes his dick clean, zips his pants back up, and leaves the drunk, irritated, pissed off, and completely unsatisfied woman bent over the sink and then he goes back to the party to see if he can do it again.
Little Shit: Uh huh.
NDC: About a month and a half later the guy will get a call from the woman, even though he gave her a fake name and number, telling him that she’s pregnant. The man will then spend the next month and a half trying to convince the woman to have an abortion. If the guy is good, the woman will agree; if not, then the woman is going to have a baby.
Little Shit: Ok.
NDC: The man will try to convince the woman to put the baby up for adoption, but that never works out. That means that the man and the woman are going to become parents. The woman isn’t happy at first but she eventually warms up to the idea of having a child. The man, on the other hand, is pissed off for a long time and resents the child for the rest of his life.
Little Shit: Is that why I only get to see you once every eight weeks?
NDC: That’s exactly right dear. You’re mighty smart.
Little Shit: Thank you.
NDC: You’re welcome. Now, because the woman has ruined the man’s life forever the man is forced to pull out his trump card. The man will get drunk as piss and then call up the woman and say, “Guess what bitch, I gave you herpes and ruined your vagina forever.” He’ll most likely hang up after that and probably start drinking heavily again.
Little Shit: Wow.
NDC: Yeah. It’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it?
Little Shit: It sure is.
NDC: That’s also where marriage comes from.
Little Shit: Where?
NDC: You see, the woman can’t find any other man because she has the herp and the man decides he wants semi-constant access to pussy; thus, a marriage is born.
Little Shit: Why didn’t you marry mom then?
NDC: Are you kidding? I’m not going to sleep with a herpes infested slut. I have standards.