Sunday Sermon with Dr. Phil

We interrupt our Sunday Cartoons for an important scriptural message.

Well, you see, my husband was a carpenter and he was away a lot, you know, building commodes, bureaus, storage cabinets… kind of like Kurt Russell did for tha rich woman on “Overboard”?

Anyway, while he was away, this vaporous thing, with “wings,” broke into my boudoir and said I was going to be raped. But that I’d “like it.”

I’m fucking fourteen years old, newly married, and I need this???

But because of the wings, I thought it was just a bad dream. But then? Next night? This thing, this REALLY big thing, with a very small and flaccid penis is, like, you know, covering me all over: Beer breath and grunting something like “Oh baby baby.” Ramming my insides. And I’m scared shitless. And I don’t resist or anything or move because these fuckers can be super violent.

Anyway, I got pregnant. The “test” came up positive a few weeks later. I told my husband, and he was understanding enough to say “Wha’ the fuck YOU done, bitch?”

So that’s why I went to the clinic. And I got an abortion. I was in a very bad place and this was the way out that worked for me.

You can be judgmental if you want. But you can also thank me for not unleashing a totally bogus religion onto human history.

Mary*

(*Just Mary. Not the Blessed Mother, not the Mother of God, not the Holy Virgin… Just Mary, an exploited teen. You’re welcome!)