Congratulations on Ruining Sex for Those Kids!

The children will fall silent as you step into the room, not for fear of your countenance, but for the muted tales that their older siblings will have told them of you.  Even your introduction, flush with candor, will make their blood run cold in their veins.

"Hello class.  I'm Mister Jacobson," you'll announce, depositing your briefcase on the table in front of them.  "Your sex ed teacher."

You'll punctuate your sentence by opening the briefcase and removing your smart phone from it.  The briefcase will be empty aside from this device and a single sheet of paper, on which you'll mark attendance later.  You'll take your phone and, using a cord provided by the school department, plug your phone into the projector sitting in the middle of the room.  With that done you'll fiddle with your phone a bit, then look out over the room, reading through the names on your attendance list.

When you reach James Frankletorp's name you'll pause.

"Are your grandparents Gloria and Shem Frankletorp?" you'll ask him.

"I guess," he'll mutter in response, eyes still fixed on his desk.  He'll know what's coming.  The whole class will know what's coming, but James will have the misfortune of being the one to bear the full brunt of your attention.

After he responds you'll pick up your phone again, fiddle with it until you find the relevant file, then turn off the lights and turn on the projector.  Light will scintillate on to the screen, requiring delicate effort and tuning until it sharpens into a still image of two elderly white people facing one another in the nude, bodies loose and baggy, faces harrowed.  Once the image comes into focus you'll press play on the video.  The elderly white folk will immediately begin touching one another, painfully unaware of the fact that they're being filmed.  They'll clumsily smash their bodies together, grinding, moaning, sweating, grunting, cursing, praising Jesus, and, at one particularly fraught moment, begging one another to stop.  When they finish they'll do so with terrified looks on their faces, as if this might be the way they die, as if they might be found locked in this terrifying, macabre embrace.  The video will end soon thereafter, you'll switch the projector off and the lights back on.  The students will all be staring ahead, all except James, who will be staring at his desk.  It will look like he's been weeping quietly to himself.  You'll smile and begin speaking.

"This is what sex is.  Sex is horrible.  Sex is hideous.  Sex is the source of all shame.  To have sex is to give in to base desire, to become as those elderly folk are, truly reprehensible.  Never have sex."

After you finish you'll pack up your smart phone, exit the classroom and leave the school, pausing only to deposit the attendance roll sheet with the principal's office.  Then you'll get in your Honda Accord and begin driving towards your next destination, another school, filled with another group of children, one of whom, you're sure, will soon to be subject to a most unpleasant surprise.

Congratulations on Ruining Sex for Those Kids!

Congratulations Mystical Clam!

Sex education is a huge problem in America.   HUGE!  Kids don’t know about penises in vaginas, penises in anuses, and vaginas rubbing up against vaginas (we assume, since how else could girls make that work?!) and it’s literally killing dozen of teen!

Many people in more progressive states (anything that isn’t located in what used to the Confederacy) have begun teaching comprehensive sex-ed in schools, to prevent rampant gonorrhea, crabs, syphilis and the shits from spreading through our sexy teens like wildfire.  The hope is that at least a handful of our teens will emerge from their education with clean enough bills of health to work in porn, since America’s exploited teens are a rapidly vanishing resource.

But southern states are rampant with their claps and their butt babies and all the other myriad problems that emerge when you don’t have sex education.  Condoms are available by prescription only, guarded by armed men in the back of stores.  There’s no hope in sight for the children of the south, previously our most desperately spirited sexual deviants who would go on to titillate us once they reach legal adulthood.  Something must be done.

That’s where you wash ashore in the middle of a storm, to use a very literal turn of phrase.  You’re a magical clam and today, following a horrifying freak storm that will devastate the Louisiana coastline, you’ll be washed ashore into a Health classroom in a public school in some nameless shithole somewhere along banks of the Gulf.

You’ll sit there for three hours before some teens come in to start cleaning up their classroom so their obese teacher can sit down behind the desk you’ll be occupying  at the time.  When one of them, a young woman, reaches out to you you’ll warn her:

“Don’t pick me up without a glove!  Shellfish can often carry bacteria that can lead to harmful health conditions.”

The children will collectively gasp at your crisp, clear unaccented voice.

“What’re y’all abou’ na?” one boy will ask.

“I’m a magical clam,” you’ll proudly announce.  “I have the answer to most health related questions.”

The kids will get into how you know all this shit and you’ll explain to them that life as a clam is filthy and if you’re a magical sentient clam who can talk it’s hard not to start obsessing over all the various health conditions that can befall you, especially when you somehow have mystical access to the internet.  They’ll then start asking you about sex.

“Is it true y’all can get pregnant from a finger?” one girl will ask.  A boy will chortle, then suddenly turn pale as a sheet as he realizes he’s accidentally fingered his cousin at least twice.

“No.  But you can get certain infections from having dirty digits placed in your vagina, so you should always insist your partner washes his or her self carefully before engaging in any sort of sexual activity.”

The children will coo at the knowledge you can provide.  Over the next month you’ll tell them of condoms, of oral sex and of why they shouldn’t generally have sex with animals.  Word of your deeds will spread throughout the south.  You’ll become a legend in the south: a mystical clam that speaks the truth about sex and, divorced from the pay and pension structure of the state of Louisiana’s public school system, can actually respond to the questions burning in the minds of these horny teens.

In the process you’ll draw the ire of a particularly angry group of religious extremists, who will form an elaborate plan to kill you.  Luckily your teens are pretty bright and the ensuing antics will later be documented in two films: a lighthearted family comedy about learning about sex and a murder-porn film about the pitfalls of religious extremism.

Congratulations Mystical Clam!

Congratulations on Exposing Yourself to Your Niece!

When she asks you you won’t hesitate. You’ll sit right up on the kitchen counter and flip up your skirt, exposing your bare vagina. Underwear, you’ve always said, is for sissies. You’ll be groomed, but not bare, because you always expect that you’ll have to do something like this and you don’t want to scar young women, but you also don’t want to teach them that they shouldn’t care about their bodies in general.

You’ll point to your vagina, which will be pretty clean and clear to external observation.

“This is a vagina, or pussy. Sometimes, it bleeds,” you’ll explain.

She’ll be horrified. “What? What the fuck? Why?”

“Well, your uterus will occasionally shed its lining in order to rid itself of an unfertilized egg as part of your monthly cycle. It’s part of the system of human reproduction, and it essentially makes your body into a nightmarish hellscape for a week every month.”

“That sounds terrible!” she’ll exclaim, putting her face uncomfortably close to your vagina.

“It’s nothing compared to the emotional torture that the surges and variance in hormones exposes you to. Expect to become a total wreck for at least three of those days while your brain tries to destroy itself. You’ll simultaneously crave sex and be revolted by it. And the fact that you’re bleeding the whole time doesn’t really help.”

“Is there anything I can do to stop it?” she’ll ask, her eyes pleading with you. You’ll shake your head sorrowfully and she’ll look down, away from your vagina, tears welling in her eyes.

At this point, you’ll decide it’s time to remove your tampon from your vagina. You’ll reach up in there and grab the string and then slam it down on the table, sending drops of blood flying. One will catch her on the nose, turning her sorrow to horror anew.

“What-“ she’ll begin, but you’ll intercede with a shout rising to catastrophony.

“This is a tampon. It’s a wad of cotton you ram into your pussy to keep the blood from pouring out and ruining your underwear.”

“Oh god!”

“Yeah. I’m going to go get another one. Then we’ll go out and buy some more.” With that you’ll hop down from the counter and stride into the bathroom to get a replacement tampon. When you return to the kitchen your niece will be holding the tampon and staring at it with fascination. She’ll look up as you re-enter the room with an enchanted look on her face.

“Thanks for explaining all this to me,” she’ll murmur. “I know you’re off the clock, but I really appreciate it.”

You’ll shrug. “A sex-ed instructor’s work is never done.” Then you’ll take the tampon from her hand, toss it into the trash and take your niece by the hand, leading her to the car, where you’ll drive her to Walgreens (literally) and womanhood (symbolically).

Congratulations on Exposing Yourself to Your Niece!

Congratulations on Raising Your Kid Right!

This dad thing is hard. Ignoring the thousands of books written on the subject of child rearing no one gave you a fucking handbook and showed you how to be the best dad you could be. But you learned from your own pops when he wasn’t on the run from the police or in prison or locked in the basement making meth and you think you’ve got this thing down pretty right.

Which is why today you’re going to sit your nine year old son down and talk to him about the birds and the bees. Sure, most “doctors” say that puberty doesn’t set in for another year or two, but those doctors are idiots. You know the real story. This is around when you lost your virginity to your cousin, Lorna, and even though your family’s come a long way from the panhandle of Oklahoma to anywhere else in the god damn world you think it’s still important that he know how to be a man as soon as possible.

By “sit him down” we mean “lock him in a room with a tape of you and your wife doing it.” It’s the family way. And even when DSS shows up at your house a few weeks later to take your child into custody you’ll know that their fancy laws can’t fool you. You did right by your boy and in a year or two when you can apply to get him back he’ll thank you for it.

Congratulations on Raising Your Kid Right!