THE JOHNNY BASTARD FILES : Abortion

Could somebody please tell my why it's so goddamn difficult for a man to get a fucking abortion? I swear to God, its fucking impossible, and it's not right. I've been trying to abort this alien fetus using my stomach as its incubator, gestating inside me, for four months now, only to have those goddamn doctors throw me out of their office for being an asshole. You're the asshole, pal! You sexist pieces of shit! Why can a woman get an abortion but not a man? That's a double-standard if you ask me. They've even had me arrested a couple of times. Some have even threatened to have me put in an asylum with the other delusional psychos. The only thing stopping them, I guess, was they thought it was a prank. Some even asked me if this was one of those jokes that they were going to play on FOX's Nastiest Hidden Camera Pranks. Yeah, you wish, pal. I tell you, women have it easy when it comes to abortions. Okay, so you have to wade your way through the angry protestors, and watch out for anti-abortion extremists setting up bombs and snipers (though that would be a much greater hazard for abortion doctors), and everything, but once that's out of the way, and you're actually in the building, they're always very willing to help you out. You get an operation, no problem. Why can't it be like that with men who want abortions? Instead, I go in there and ask for an abortion, and all I get are funny looks, as though I'm some whacho. They give me nothing but scorn, staring me down, ready to either call the cops or have me locked away in a padded cell. Women can get abortions, but men can't. Equal rights my ass!

I didn't know how much longer I had until I was coming to term. Last time I told you about how I was raped anally by El Chupacabra during my second alien abduction. I was a pregnant man, and I was really starting to show. I had all the symptoms. The morning sickness, waking up and vomiting all over the place. My gut was really starting to bulge outward, just like that of a pregnant woman. For some reason, I had this craving for an ice cream sunday, not with whipped cream and hot fudge, but with mustard and ketchup over vanilla ice cream. Now doesn't that sound tasty. Anyway, I didn't know how much time I had left, but I did know that with each passing second, I came closer and closer to giving birth to a baby, which was the last thing I wanted. Feeling that thing constantly moving around in my stomach sickened me. I couldn't believe I was about to mother/father a child. The very thought of giving birth repulsed me. No one would help me with the abortion. The doctors only scoffed and laughed at my requests and cries for help, and I had nowhere else to turn.

I had no choice but to perform the operation myself.

Luckily, wire coat hangers are very easy to come by. I found one in the trash. It was pretty rusty, but it would do the trick. I stripped naked in the bathroom of my apartment, near the mirror that I had smashed over a year ago, and got down to business. Shoving the coat hanger up my ass wasn't that painful, really, though once I began to swirl it around, I began to feel it. I stirred and swirled it around up my ass, hoping to got that I was reaching the fetus, doing irreparable, fatal damage to the wretched thing. The last thing I wanted was for it to come to term. I wanted to do a nice, thorough job. I wanted to make sure the fucking thing was dead. I kept doing that for a few minutes, and would have done it longer, but suddenly, I felt as though I had to take a shit. I was nauseous, and my large intestine swelled painfully.

I sat down on the toilet, when what felt like the largest, hardest clump of shit slowly wiggled its way down my colon. It wasn't feces, though. It was the alien fetus, and my body was squeezing it out of my asshole, which was now bleeding profusely. I strained, my temples throbbing, my eyes squeezing tightly shut, as I forced the thing down my colon, out of my anus and out of my system once and for all. Sweat poured down my face, and I cried out in agony as the alien fetus burst out of my ass and plopped into the toilet with a splash of cold water that washed against my buttocks. I rose slowly to my feet and looked down into the toilet, and sure enough, floating around in the water, now dyed red with my blood, was the dead alien fetus. It had both human and alien features. Its skin tone was that of humans, but the eyes were large and black, those of aliens, and it had four fingers on each hand instead of five. I was so immersed in victory that I hadn't even noticed until later that my ass was still bleeding profusely, the blood dripping down my legs.

What I hadn't noticed at the time, but realized later, was that by performing the operation myself, I had reopened the wounds within my colon that had resulted from when I was raped by El Chupacabra. My ass feels like it is on fire right now. Whenever I fart it feels like my ass is expelling a fiery blaze. When I defecate, it feels like I am shitting molten rock. What's even worse than that and worse than the anal leakage I now find myself experience is that I think the wounds in my colen have become septic. By giving myself an operation, I have cut my colon open once again, and this time I have an infection. I am now constantly wiping the profuse blood and puss from my ass all the time now, and it keeps on getting worse. As time goes on, more and more blood and puss shoot from my ass, an endless supply.

I blame the aliens for all of this. They abducted me against my will and they had their pet impregnate me without my consent. I was raped, and the last thing I wanted was to suffer the indignity of giving birth and fathering a child as well. I would rather have my flesh torn off with a potato pealer while my testicles are crushed under thirty pound weights than raise a child.

I also blame the abortion doctors who refused to help me when I desperately needed it. They could have helped me, but they didn't; instead they treated me as though I was at best a nuiscense and at worst completely insane, and coldly threw me to the wolves. Don't get me wrong; if someone--anyone--ever came to me for help, even if it was life and death, I would tell them without hesitation to go fuck themselves with a hot branding iron, turn away, and never look back. But that still doesn't alleviate the intense hatred I feel for the abortionists for turning down my pleas for help.

If I survive this, I think I'm going to start a petition demanding that a law be passed requiring that abortion doctors not refuse to their services to anyone, whether man or woman.

 

September 18, 2002

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