What does an unaborted fetus know about the value of life?

More reader mail time!

This week's reader mail reads as follows:
As a fetus, what is your take on the recent Virginia Tech massacre? How do you feel about coming into a world where people are capable of such evil?

You know, there's something odd about a fetus that has yet to experience a day of life to give her opinions on life and death. And there's something equally silly about a lifeform that's incapable of recalling long-term memory to draw any sort of lesson from this.

At the most primate level, even as a fetus, I understand survival = good, and things that prevent my survival = bad. Ergo, killers (and The Killers) = bad.

But beyond that, I'm not sure if the facts of the case matter to me that much.

Okay, so my daddy is Asian, so for a moment, I was afraid I was going to pick up some crazed killer genes. But the thing is, there are literally billions of slanty eyed motherfuckers out there who manage to get through their lives without shooting the fuck out of university campuses, so I have to assume that the crazed killer genes are only carried by lonely Asian boys. Considering the circumstances behind my conception, which is to say, vaginal, I don't think the lonely part applies to my daddy. Yeah, he's capable of stupid crazy shit, but more stupid crazy like having unprotected intercourse.

If anything, maybe people will become afraid of young Asians like they're afraid of young black kids, so I might actually be safer.

Gun control? Well, you'd think multiple classmates and teachers reporting you for a fucking weirdos would set off some sort of alarm at the gun shop, but hey, that's America for you.

But I think the most important thing to remember about the massacre is that it's a freak incident. It takes a whole fucking lot for everything to come together. Most people simply don't reach that level of fucked-upness, and when they do, they usually lack the testicular fortitude, access to firearm and pop culture references to pull this shit through.

And forgive me for being callous, but based on the law of averages, the massacre just increased all our life expectancies by about a week, because shit like this only happens every few years. This is a one-in-a-million (if not more) incident, and we're now okay for another million. "But did you account for the possibility of a copycat crime, you stupid fucking fetus?", you might be asking. Sure I did, but since motherfuckers are going to be on the lookout for lonely Asian boys with huge arsenals and it'll be more likely that the police will take it super seriously when some fucknut English major writes Richard McBeef 2: The Electric Bugaloo, so the copycat factor is more than cancelled out.

So I'm not saying, hooray, massacre, but let's not act like the world's headed to hell in a Jimmy Choo. With advances in shit like medicine and nutrition and security, we're living longer and longer. If the price to pay for longer, healthier lives are freak occurrences like the one up in Blacksburg, that's a tradeoff I'm taking every time.

Mommy and daddy are baby-eating atheists, apparently

I've been light on the posting lately, so there's a lot to catch up on. I've started breathing classes, which supposedly makes it easier on mommy when it's time for me to pop the fuck out, though honestly, I can't imagine anything making that process easy on anyone. By that time, I'm about the size of a large cabbage, and I'm going to be stretching the fuck out of a hole that's usually not meant for anything bigger than a medium carrot.

And as hard as mommy has it, I have to go from happily swimming in amniotic fluid to having to breathe in oxygen on my own - that's a a fucking transition right there. If that's not bad enough, I get slapped by the doctor just to make me cry. At least I'm not a dude and I don't have to face the possibility of getting my foreskin chopped. What kind of barbaric culture allows this? Hopefully, I'm born into a more civilized society where this sort of mutilation isn't allowed.

Which gets me thinking, as I often do with all this free time and no iPod to while my time away with, which god am I going to be forced to worship?

A man once said, "I definitely want my son to be christened, but I don't know which religion yet." Well, that man is a complete fucking idiot, but his heart's in the right place.

We all need spirituality, since there's more shit in the world that's unexplainable than not. Religion gives a nice set of rules to live by, to encourage people to sacrifice their immediate, short-term needs for the greater and long-term good. And the rituals give followers a sense of belonging, and comfort knowing that this shit worked for their ancestors and will work for them too.

I've gathered enough intel from my parents to know that they don't really believe in god, at least not one that's officially sanctioned (which sort of explains why my bastard fetus ass is here in the first place). But I don't see them going around robbing motherfuckers or fucking everything that walks, so I can't say absence of religion is the worst thing in the world, on an individual basis, anyway.

But really, God couldn't possibly give a fuck if you ate bacon or prayed in a certain direction or put up stockings by the mantle, right? Maybe that's some shit that's too complex for my feeble incomplete mind to wrap itself around. Wait, did I say bacon? And wrap? Shit, I'm hungry again.

Living la vida vagina

First off, happy Dead Jesus Day, everyone. Hope you're having fun painting Jesus Eggs and eating bunnies.

Now, being stuck in this small, albeit quite wonderfully warm and placenta-y, womb all fucking day and night, I simply don't see much excitement and it's easy to run out of material to write about, even if I'm only posting 3 times a week. So I appreciate any questions or requests that you may have.

"Betty" asks,

Can you post more posts about what dating is like in the womb?

Sure, Nurse Betty, I can talk about dating. Except there is no dating in the womb. I mean, I can always count on the umbilical cord to stick around after a night of intense cuddling, but it's not exactly Mr. Personality. And like I said, I don't get out much, so it's not like I'm meeting other fetuses and playing the field.

And that's a damn shame, because every time mommy and daddy see a baby when they're out, they're always saying how I'm going to be way cuter. I can't say I disagree - you should see my ultrasound. I'm really depriving the world of my hotness, but shit, what can I do?

The story of my life, before it's even begun

Seriously, this pretty much fucking mirrors my life. Other than the dad being way more attractive in the movie, this is EXACTLY HOW IT HAPPENED. In fact, there's even a gag about the dick scaring the fetus during pregger fucking (you'll have to catch the full-length R-rated trailer that keeps getting pulled from YouTube). It's like Apatow read my blog, went back in time and wrote this movie. I should be getting executive producer credit on this shit, at least. Otherwise, I'm suing the motherfucker as soon as I'm out of this bitch.

Oh, and the penis thing - it's been over a month since I wrote that post and the dynamic has changed a bit. I've grown bigger than the cock, and the sight of my dad's manhood is slightly less disturbing now that I know I'm a girl. And you gotta be packing some San Fernando Valley-caliber heat to come anywhere near my swimming lane.

Still, there's really no way of getting used to the pounding and the awful grunting sounds mommy and daddy make. I'm just fucking glad I don't have to see their O-face.

I'm your hell, I'm your dream, I'm nothing in between

I apologize for the inaction on this space in recent weeks. I discovered my feet a few weeks ago and I find kicking to be the most fucking fascinating thing, ever. Plus, with my memory not yet fully developed, every fucking thing is new every time. It's awesome being a fetus.

I mentioned earlier that I would be finding out whether I was a girl or boy, and guess what? I have a vagina!

I can't say it was the most comfortable experience. They poke around with the machine making sure I have all my parts and measuring my shit, including my labia. Shit, I've already posed full frontal and I'm not even born yet.

As you can imagine, mommy is thrilled since she can get all girly buying all kinds of pink clothings and home accessories. Daddy is crestfallen like a motherfucker, since his plan was to train me to become a college quarterback so I could get a scholarship and he can put my would-be college savings towards beer and weed. Now, the only way I can earn a college scholarship is if I turn out lezbo. Plus, he won't be able to trust anything with a penis within a mile of her.

Say, which is worse for a father, for a daughter to turn into a slut or a lesbian?

Anyway, now that they know my gender, they're furiously coming up with possible names for me, especially since "Cletus" ain't gonna fly.