The Best Argument for Birth Control:

Two spoiled girls, ages 5 and 6.

I shit you not, there has never been a more compelling reason for me to sign up for a vasectomy the minute I get home. A couple of these demonesses in children's skin visited a house in which I was staying, recently. It was like someone had given cocaine to two small chihuahas (the neurotic, annoying kind you want desperately to kick) and then let them loose in the house.

I don't know if I've made this clear lately or not, but I don't like children. More precisely, I don't like other people's rotten and misbehaving children. Moreover, it makes me loose most of my respect for the parents, because a great deal of the behaviour of a child (especially etiquette, self control, and temper) is a direct result of the way they were raised.

So, if you want to make me happy, raise your children to be calm, quiet, and polite, or don't let them in the house. If they want to shriek and run about until they fall down, the little creatures are welcome to do it in the yard with the other wild beasts.

Author's note: I'm travelling at the moment (Ohio, more on that later) and my current situation keeps me away from the glorious "Intertron" (as Tycho calls it). I'll try and update tomorrow, but you might have to wait until Monday.