I want a vasectomy and I want it now!

I don’t like to talk too much about my “day jobs” here, but I will say this: I work in a place that houses disturbed children. I don’t have to have much contact with them, as I mainly push papers around and fiddle with the computer programs, but they’re there. If you want to know what it’s like, think back to when you were thirteen or fourteen years old. Think about that one kid in your school who was always doing something hideous. The fat boy with the holes in his pants who stole your lunchbox or the bulemic girl with the heavy eyeliner who threatened to have her brother stab you to death. The kid who sat in the corner of class, scribbling swastikas in his notebook. The kid your principal has reported to the FBI as a possible school shooter. The eight year old cat murderer and the sixteen year old drug dealer. I don’t know what form this kid took in your school, but your school must have had one or two. Think of that kid for a second. Now think of twenty-four of those kids being locked up together in a very confined, very bad-smelling institution and little to do besides play “UNO” and watch American Idol.

My main complaint is that they’re so fucking loud all the time. My next complaint would be that they’re incorrigible brats who make me want to stick my head through my computer monitor. It seems horrible to think that I may one day be involved in the creation of one of these ill-mannered, vile-tongued beasts. That’s why I’m sending out a plea over the internet: someone please come and sterilize me. I don’t want to run the risk of creating a juvenile delinquent of my very own. Sure, I understand that not all children are unable to control their urges to bite strangers or set buildings on fire, but that seems like academic knowledge after you’ve spent a whole eight hour shift listening to a few dozen of this kind all screaming at each other at once.

I will supply the gardening shears and a ball of twine. You will bring a strong anaesthetic and a rudimentary understanding of the male genitalia. I’m not asking for an accredited medical professional here. I just want it done with and done with quickly. I’m prepared to walk funny for a couple of days if I can just be sure my future will be free of those awful, awful little creatures. Hack it out and be done with it, that’s what I say...

But maybe I shouldn’t make these sorts of decisions after I’ve had a bad day at work.