So they got another one now, another experimental method of male birth control. This one is, they immerse you in salt water and shoot ultrasound rays at your nuts to disable your sperm. And by “you” I mean, rats, for now. But it’s looking promising.
This comes to us from India, home of the last new thing in male birth control, the injection of a coated chemical “tube” into your vas deferens. Or something like that. They put this wall coating onto an existing tube in your nuts and it’s like flypaper or ant bait for your sperm. This sounds fine except it involves a thick needle injected through your scrotum and then deep into the nut tisssue itse— aaaahh. Gah. No.
But the new thing, where they dip you in salt water and shoot rays at your nuts: yes. Yes, give me that. If it’s reversible. Sounds like this one just goes away on its own, it just takes a certain amount of time for the mangled sperm to grow back.
But whatever you do, I mean, fucking come on and do SOMETHING. We need a method of male birth control that isn’t the condom, whose primary purpose in contraception is to make fucking such a pleasureless chore that I’d rather watch TV. The condom, which has prevented many STD’s as a girl has said to me “we need to get a condom” and I said “nah, fuck it, I’m going home.” We need to get rid of these fucking things. I’ll wear a condom if I’m with a hooker, or in a country where more than 3% of the population has ringworm. Or if it comes down to selling my cock under the freeway. I’ll wear a condom. Other than that, no, and it’s fucking ridiculous how condom use, and being nagged about condom use—how this has become so god damn prevalent. People my age are in a lost generation of sex paranoia. We have internalized the idea that there’s a massive chance that you will get heterosexual AIDS and that a penis merely being in the same room as a vagina will get you pregnant and 70% of the sexually active population is estimated to have massive grapelike clusters of seeping genital warts and you can catch herpes even if the other person doesn’t have an outbreak and while HPV, the silent killer, doesn’t seem like it’s doing anything now, it lurks in your cervix and gives you cancer and you’re going to spend your last days looking like Powder and shitting into a bedpan thanks to that one time that you FUCKED, you harlot, outside of the sanctity of a monogamous marriage between two virgins. Except for the ninety nine point nine nine nine times out of one hundred that HPV does not do this. Except for the ninety nine point nine nine nine times out of one hundred that it does nothing, to the extent that you can’t even test for it. It has no symptoms, it has no effects, there’s no way of knowing who is infected, but we’re pretty sure YOU have it, because you fucked that one time.
But anyway. We need some motherfucking male birth control, obviously, because of the tons of chicks I have unprotected sex with, virtually none of them are on the pill. Nor do they use a diaphragm. Or a Today™ sponge. Or an IUD, which I’ve brought up to past girlfriends and they always think it’s going to get infected and render them sterile, even though it’s pretty much perfect. It’s condoms or pulling out or nothing with pretty much all women.
I get why they don’t want these things. The pill fucks up the very hormones that would make you want to get rawdogged by a guy like me to begin with. The diaphragm is a huge mood-breaking hassle to get up, go in the bathroom, stick it deep in your cooch, etc.—by the time you do all that you’ve had a moment of clarity and aren’t fucking me anyway. I’ve never handled a Today™ sponge but I’m sure it’s a malodorous alien looking little thing that you want nowhere near your vagina. And the IUD, well– that’s a project; you have to go do a lot of work and undergo a quasi-surgical ordeal and etc.
But I also think part of their reluctance, and this loops back to the male birth control of it all– part of it is that sex is way hotter, and you feel like more of a complete human being in general, when you can get pregnant or make somebody pregnant. Fucking a chick on the pill just isn’t as viscerally exciting as putting your unprotected meatpipe in a girl and knowing that if you pop off, you will make a baby. Somehow your body knows, in a primal, profound way, whether or not you are “cheating” in the act that is your sole purpose on planet Earth. So when I’m fucking a girl I have to pretend up until the very last possible second that I’m going to cum in her and fill her with my unwanted life-ruining brats.
And so I wonder if I actually would take male birth control. Or have my balls irradiated while suspended in room temperature salt water. Would I then get a chick home and be about to fuck her, and think: what’s the fucking point? Would knowing I was an unmanned eunuch make me stop going out and even trying to get laid? Would I finally be able to pursue work, friendships and hobbies like a normal fucking human being?
Maybe. I want to try that shit and see for sure. Maybe the thought of knocking a chick up is too deep at the core of my sex drive, and I’ll give up the pussy. But maybe it’ll be a ton of fun to get an OKC date home, rawdog her, and just give her an unannounced creampie without even asking if she’s on birth control. Maybe just scaring the shit out of her would be enough to get off.