Sweet Revenge

There are these two women who occasionally will stand around while I'm driving to work, on the corner of one of the streets downtown, holding up a big sign that says "Abortion Kills."

Now I will be the first to agree that yes, in fact, abortion does kill. It's not a pretty thing. But honestly -- I don't think that banning abortion should be our priority right now. War kills, too. Full-grown adults, at that (not that babies are any less precious). And until we have the resources to ensure that every single child born in this country will have enough food to eat, a good education, a stable family life and parents that love it -- not to mention the ability to strictly enforce child support from deadbeat dads -- then no one in this country has any right to tell anyone else what to do with her body. Period. And the planet already has way, way too many human beings on it as is.

But I really couldn't care less what these women think -- what really irks me is what they look like. I know, shallow. But seriously, they're both fat. They took the lives that their mommies and God gave them and used those lives to get fat and unhealthy. What a swell representative of what life can be for these poor babies that never get to see the light of day -- you, too, child, could one day be obese and bitter. Sure, maybe they have a glandular disorder; maybe there's some thyroid problem going on somewhere inside them. But you know what? Maybe some of the women they're targeting were raped, or are in serious danger of dying if they don't have an abortion. And what about ectopic pregnancies? Should those be terminated, or left as is, so both mother and child will die? Point being: Judge not lest ye be judged, bitches, and if you're going to judge the entire population that drives by your stupid sign, then I'm going to judge you. Fatties.

Last night D and I went to Schezuan Chinese, the best Chinese restaurant (I think) in the city. It's almost impossible to find, tucked away in the corner of a nigh-inaccessible strip mall. (Yes, this does have something to do with the abortion women. Hold your horses.) Usually when I go there, I order something fair-to-middling healthy, but last night I was on a blowout and ordered what I think is the hands-down best option on the menu: the pan-fried dumplings. These dumplings have been lauded and awarded; they're filled with spiced pork and some herbs, and they're greasy and fatty and oh, my god, so, so delicious. Grease runs down your chin when you bite into them. They are heaven on earth.

So here is my plan: I'm going to get one of my healthy, fit friends to stand with me on the corner opposite these women. I'm going to make a sign that says simply: "Diabetes Kills." And while they're fretting across the street, I'm going to eat so many of those dumplings, laughing at them over my greasy chin because they can't have any.

Neener neener neener!