... About Floating Fetuses

Reader, I'm going to hell. There's no avoiding it. I've pretty much picked out my own hand basket, lined it with fluffy pillows, stocked it up with Dr Pepper and Cheetos, and am just patiently waiting to be carried off.

Now, anyone who knows me well knows that I make this proclamation quite regularly. Like every time I play a joke on someone, or use the phrase "That's what she said" in an inappropriate fashion, or throw things at homeless people. But this time I mean it. And I have evidence. May I present:

Exhibit A:





Reader, please don't take offense, but that floating fetus in a bubble that you post on your blog or website to show me how far along your pregnancy is totally creeps me out. And by that I mean it gives me the heebie-jeebies. I just don't feel like I need to be privy to that particular aspect of your blessed event. If I were a tweenager I'd probably say something along the lines of "TMI!"

I mean, congratulations on your pregnancy. Please don't show me your fetus.

It's not just your fetus, or even just fetuses in general. I pretty much want to look at your face and your clothes and not have to know about anything that's happening underneath that. You know that Body Worlds exhibit? Bailey tried to talk me into going, but I refuse. Why would anybody want to look at human bodies with their skin taken off? That's sick. That's Hannibal Lector sick.

Oh, yeah, sure, it's educational. So is a trip to the toxic waste facility, but you don't see people lining up to do that and then posting a widget about it on their blogs. There's a reason why God made our bodies opaque (and I'm sure He'll have an opinion on this soon). We are not supposed to see what's going on in there.

I'm sorry if that makes me a jerk, but.... well.... sorry, it's just so hard to sincerely apologize when your fetus is showing. D'ya think you could just put that sucker away for a minute?

So the bad news is, as you can clearly see, Reader, I'm most definitely on the fast track to hell. I obviously have no respect for God or His miracles. I don't think the Big Guy's going to be too thrilled with me about that. The good news is, as a proprietor of my blog, you're most likely coming with me. Don't worry - I'll save you some Cheetos. Have you ever noticed how a Cheeto kind of looks like a little orange fetus?