Not my body; still my choice

One of the bloggers that I follow posted recently about needing switch birth control methods and consequently taking the Planned Parenthood "What method of birth control is right for YOU?" online test.

Birth control is not really a problem that effects me, and by "is not really a problem" I mean "will never possibly in a million bajillion years except if I get drunk and overly confident in a bi threesome be a problem."

That said, I fucking love online multiple-choice tests and so I thought, what the hell, and opened up my mind and my pretend vulva to Planned Parenthood. Also, the knowledge that plannedparenthood.org would be permenantly archived in my work's Big Brother-esque internet monitoring system coupled with the fact that I'm outta here in a week makes me kinda wet in my pretend vulva.

I waded through a myriad of tough questions: Would my partner* be willing to pull out? Would I be okay with an initial couple months of side effects, such as tender breasts? What is the most important quality about my chosen birth control? Would I be comfortable with inserting objects into my vagina? My answers in these cases were no**, yes and "That it prevents pregnancy" and "depends on the squishy level."

After 3 gruelling and soul-searching minutes, PP gave it to me straight:

Conclusion: I am not responsible enough to be in charge of my own birth control and clearly need to be monitored by a medical professional to ensure I don't fuck it up.

Wow, Planned Parents. Judgey McJudgejudge Judgersons. Thanks, Mom. Also, they nailed it right in the vag.***



*Okay, I was typing on autopilot and initially wrote "parents." Paging Dr. Freud...

**He'd be all "Ooh, baby, I'll totally pull out. I wanna cum all over your tits," but I'd know better cause he's an ass man.

*** *shudder*