Vasectomy Quotes

If you can imagine a man having a vasectomy without anesthetic to the sound of frantic sitar-playing, you will have some idea of what popular Turkish music is like.

My genes done gone and tricked my brain By making fucking feel so great That's how the little creeps attain Their plan to fuckin' replicate But brain's got tricks itself, you see To get the bang but not the bite I got this here vasectomy My genes can fuck themselves tonight. - The R-Selectors, Trunclade

I wandered over across the hall where they were showing a short movie about vasectomies. Much later I told her that I'd actually gotten a vasectomy a long time ago, and somebody else must have gotten her pregnant. I also told her once that I had inoperable cancer and would soon be passed away and gone, eternally. But nothing I could think up, no matter how dramatic or horrible, ever made her repent or love me the way she had at first, before she really knew me.

...and there will be no more interruptions and you will be staying for dessert, coffee, and cigars.

He was looking forward to this about as much as one would look forward to a tooth extraction, or perhaps a vasectomy. A colonoscopy? He pondered a list of horrific things that could possibly be less painful than a week-long royal wedding.

Does everything have a father? Apparently so. A web search on “the father of” turned up fathers for vasectomy reversal, hillbilly jazz, lichenology, snowmobiling, modern librarianship, Japanese whiskey, hypnosis, Pakistan, natural hair care products, the lobotomy, women’s boxing, Modern Option Pricing Theory, the swamp buggy, Pennsylvania ornithology, Wisconsin bluegrass, tornado research, Fen-Phen, modern dairying, Canada’s permissive society, black power, and the yellow schoolbus.

I’m allergic to latex and it makes me break out in a rash so most condoms are out for me because the last thing any of us wants is a vagina rash. The alternative is the ones made of sheepskin, but it always creeps me out because does that mean Victor and I are having sex with a sheep? A dead sheep, actually. So it’s bestiality and necrophilia. And a three-way, I think. I actually mentioned that to Victor and he immediately booked a vasectomy, which is sweet because it’s nice that he cares about me. He claimed it was less his caring and more “I’d rather have my nuts cut off than have to listen to you talk about having three-ways with dead sheep.” But now I have all these leftover condoms. They make great water balloons though and I bet they’d be really good for championship bubblegum-blowing competitions. Really chewy sheep bubblegum. That might be cheating. I don’t know the rules about bubblegum contests.

In a conversation on Twitter, a doctor said to me: I do anesthesia for a living, done it for hundreds of tubals I’m sure. I often think: WTF is wrong with the husband? Except when part of a C-section, tubals should be rare. Vasectomies are cheap, low-pain, extremely safe, and highly effective. Why are tubals also a burden that women must carry? An additional point: there has never been a documented death from a vasectomy. However, many women have died from anesthetic or surgical complications from a tubal ligation.

I ask you, doctor, what is there in the world more selfish than a baby? Nothing! -The Small Assassin

I told my doctor I want to get a vasectomy. He said with a face like mine, I don’t need one.

He passed a hair salon called Snip Away, which sounded more like a vasectomy clinic than a beauty parlor.

I sometimes cry at night when I realize my vasectomy is permanent.

You … you’ve booked an appointment to have your vasectomy reversed?” “You want kids, don’t you?

Y'know, men and women are a lot alike in certain situations, like sitting on frozen peas after a vasectomy

If you can imagine a man having a vasectomy without anaesthetic to a background accompaniment of frantic sitar-playing, you will have some idea of what popular Turkish music is like.

George’s eyes moved quickly back to the paper, and his lips twitched as he finished, “And finally , to Shauna Fontaine, I leave the knowledge that, when I started it with her, I got a vasectomy.

Because I live in south Florida I store cans of black beans and gallons of water in my closet in preparation for hurricane season. I throw a hurricane party in January. You’re my only guest. We play Marco Polo in bed. The sheets are wet like the roof caved in. There’s a million of me in you. You try to count me as I taste the sweat on the back of your neck. I call you Sexy Sexy, and we do everything twice. After, still sweating, we drink Crystal Light out of plastic water bottles. We discuss the pros and cons of vasectomies. It’s not invasive you say. I wrap the bedsheet around my waist. Minor surgery you say. You slur the word surgery, like it’s a garnish on a dish you just prepared. I eat your hair until you agree to no longer talk about vasectomies. We agree to have children someday, and that they will be beautiful even if they’re not. As I watch your eyes grow heavy like soggy clothes, I tell you When I grow up I’m going to be a famous writer. When I’m famous I’ll sign autographs on Etch-A-Sketches. I’ll write poems about writing other poems, so other poets will get me. You open your eyes long enough to tell me that when you grow up, you’re going to be a steamboat operator. Your pores can never be too clean you say. I say I like your pores just fine. I say Your pores are tops. I kiss you with my whole mouth, and you fall asleep next to my molars. In the morning, we eat french toast with powdered sugar. I wear the sugar like a mustache. You wear earmuffs and pretend we’re in a silent movie. I mouth Olive juice, but I really do love you. This is an awesome hurricane party you say, but it comes out as a yell because you can’t gauge your own volume with the earmuffs on. You yell I want to make something cute with you. I say Let me kiss the insides of your arms. You have no idea what I just said, but you like the way I smile.

MY GENES DONE GONE AND TRICKED MY BRAIN BY MAKING FUCKING FEEL SO GREAT THAT’S HOW THE LITTLE CREEPS ATTAIN THEIR PLAN TO FUCKIN’ REPLICATE BUT BRAIN’S GOT TRICKS ITSELF, YOU SEE TO GET THE BANG BUT NOT THE BITE I GOT THIS HERE VASECTOMY MY GENES CAN FUCK THEMSELVES TONIGHT. ——THE R-SELECTORS, TRUNCLADE

I reach out to grab his tie, yanking him toward me with force that surprises me as much as him. "You are getting a vasectomy as soon as this is over," I say through gritted teeth that feel sharper than usual. "Capeesh? And if that doesn't work, you're getting a knot-ectomy." Raul grimaces as the tie constricts around his neck. "I'm not sure that's a thing, love.

booming voice woke us. Evan looked exhausted, stunned, and out-of-his-mind happy when he announced he had a son. He and Chase exchanged hugs and talked for a few minutes before Evan said he’d better go check on his wife. “Room 210. I have to get back before she convinces the doctor to give me a vasectomy without anesthesia. But they said she’ll probably be in her room within the hour.

Vasectomy After the steaming bodies swept through the hungry streets of swollen cities; after the vast pink spawning of family poisoned the rivers and ravaged the prairies; after the gamble of latex and diaphragms and pills; I invoked the white robes, gleaming blades ready for blood, and, feeling the scourge of Increase and Multiply, made affirmation: Yes, deliver us from complicity. And after the precision of scalpels, I woke to a landscape of sunshine where the catbird mates for life and maps trace out no alibis—stepped into a morning of naked truth, where acts mean what they really are: the purity of loving for the sake of love.

Even the most recent IPCC report, dire as it is, spells out solutions of a sort. There are ways to mitigate things, there are ways to fix them. Ban fossil fuels. Stop eating meat and dairy; according to an IPCC report from 2014, animal agriculture contributes at least as much to global greenhouse gas emissions as the combined exhaust of all the world’s vehicles. What’s that you say? Too difficult? Can’t switch to an oil-free economy overnight? Okay, here’s something that’s effective, simple, and as convenient as a visit to the nearest outpatient clinic: stop breeding. Every child you squeeze out is a Godzilla-sized carbon bootprint stretching into the future—and after all, isn’t 7.6 billion of us enough? Are your genes really that special? If even half the men on the planet got vasectomies, I bet we could buy ourselves a century—and as an added bonus, child-free people not only tend to have higher disposable income than the sprogged, they’re also statistically happier.

Eleven people have been killed as a result of violence targeted at abortion providers: four doctors, two clinic employees, a security guard, a police officer, a clinic escort, and two others. Anti-abortion extremists are considered a domestic terrorist threat by the U.S. Department of Justice. Yet violence is not the only threat to abortion clinics. In the past five years, politicians have passed more than 280 laws restricting access to abortion. In 2016, the Supreme Court struck down a Texas law that would have required every abortion clinic to have a surgical suite, and doctors to have admitting privileges at a local hospital in case of complications. For many clinics, these requirements were cost prohibitive and would have forced them to close. Also, since many abortion doctors fly in to do their work, they aren’t able to get admitting privileges at local hospitals. It is worth noting that less than 0.3 percent of women who have an abortion require hospitalization due to complications. In fact colonoscopies, liposuction, vasectomies…and childbirth—all of which are performed outside of surgical suites—have higher risks of death. In Indiana in 2016, Mike Pence signed a law to ban abortion based on fetal disability and required providers to give information about perinatal hospice—keeping the fetus in utero until it dies of natural causes. This same law required aborted fetuses to be cremated or given a formal burial even if the mother did not wish this to happen.

The problem was revealed most clearly by the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts in the recent Goodridge case, the case in which the Court in effect overturned the traditional laws of marriage and installed same-sex marriage. Quite central to the argument of the majority of four judges in that case was the insistence that procreation is not a requirement of marriage, and that the laws on marriage “do not privilege procreative heterosexual intercourse between married people above every other form of adult intimacy.” But the Court opened itself here to more than it realized, for by the same reasoning one may say that marriage should be open to uncles and nieces, father and daughters, who happen to be sterile and intimate. Or to the man willing to have a vasectomy in order to marry his mother? And yet, more than that: if people of the same sex may marry, why would the arrangement not be open to a father and son? We have seen cases of incest, as bizarre as they may seem, just as we’ve seen things as odd as the fellow in Maine who sought a license to marry his dog, or the fellow in Denver a few years ago who sought to marry his horse. The impulse is there, and once again it matters not at all in principle that these are rare cases. Until recently it has been rare to see people of the same sex wishing to marry. The fact that there may only be a handful of cases does not relieve us of the need to explain the grounds of principle on which we would deny these claims of marriage—once we move out of that framework of marriage as a union between a man and a woman.

Disparity, Education and Economy Every dollar spent on luxury is a dollar of disparity. Citizens of earth could force big tech to pay their employees fair wages tomorrow, if they just stop buying their fancy, overpriced products and go for humbler alternatives unless the companies bring down their disparities in salary. The CEO may enjoy certain benefits of their position, but not until those working at the bottom can afford the fundamentals of life for their family. I'll say it to you plainly. An employee wronged is a company wronged. You see, trying to build a disparity-free economy pursuing revenue is like trying to achieve pregnancy through vasectomy. So long as greed drives the economy, it's not economy, but catastrophe. So long as greed drives the industries, it's not industrialization, it is vandalization. Ambition to climb the ladder of status so that you could be on the affluent side of disparity, is no ambition of a civilized human, it's the ambition of a caveman. So, before you pursue an ambition in life, educate yourself on a civilized definition of ambition. Yet the situation in our world is so pathetic that that's exactly the kind of ambition educational institutes sell. Schools and universities don't teach you to build a civilized society free from disparity, they teach you clever tactics to be on the affluent side of disparity. This is not education, this is castration. Concern for the society should be the bedrock of education - collective welfare should be the bedrock of economy - if not, we might as well start living as hobos on the streets, because with greed as the driving principle of education and economy, sooner or later all of us will end up on the streets.

During the past few years many nations have introduced population-control measures, enforced either by economic bribery (as in India, where the payment to a young man for undergoing an irreversible vasectomy is typically a quarter of a year's salary) or by social and governmental pressure (as in China, where early marriage is forbidden and where a third child is barred from receiving governmental welfare benefits).

Trying to build a disparity-free economy pursuing revenue is like trying to achieve pregnancy through vasectomy.

I had a vasectomy ten years ago,” he blurted out, wondering why he’d waited this long to tell her about it. She snorted, apparently having the same thought because she said, “Now you tell me that?” Hank felt his cheeks blush. “I just… I didn’t want to make you… Is that a problem?” He should have told her sooner. Sure, the vasectomy would make things more convenient, but he realized in that one hovering moment that there was so much they hadn’t talked about. “If you want me to get it reversed, I can,

She left a pamphlet on your desk titled ‘Don’t You Think It’s Time to Plan Your Vasectomy?’ ” He nodded. “Yes, she did.

Anyway. To answer your question, no. I don’t regret not having children. They absolutely terrify me.” That makes me laugh. “Kids scare you?” “Their sole purpose is to grow up and replace us. We’re breeding our replacements. Have you ever thought of that?” “You’ve been watching too many alien movies.” “My sister has six of the little monsters. Six.” He shudders. “Visiting her house is like descending into Dante’s seventh circle of hell. Half a dozen violent, miniature tyrants going around smashing things and screaming like a bunch of Vikings on crack. It’s total chaos. She’s forty-two but she looks a hundred and two. If I hadn’t gotten a vasectomy in my twenties, watching her raise those future criminals would’ve definitely sent me running to the doctor.

There's a less than one percent chance of a vasectomy failing, but it does happen. And you know there were complications . . ." "Please don't talk about the complications.

There really should be more than condoms or vasectomies as male birth control options, but women were the only ones that had to go through hell to avoid accidental pregnancy.

An illustration of a diffuser incentive is that paid to vasectomy canvassers in India (described in Chapter 9). These canvassers had each had the vasectomy operation themselves, and then earned a small incentive by convincing other men like themselves to adopt.

It’s interesting that no one cares very much about women doing anything “naturally” until it involves them being in excruciating pain. No one ever asks a man if he’s having a “natural root canal.” No one ever asks if a man is having a “natural vasectomy.” GET THE EPIDURAL.

MY GENES DONE GONE AND TRICKED MY BRAIN BY MAKING FUCKING FEEL SO GREAT THAT’S HOW THE LITTLE CREEPS ATTAIN THEIR PLAN TO FUCKIN’ REPLICATE BUT BRAIN’S GOT TRICKS ITSELF, YOU SEE TO GET THE BANG BUT NOT THE BITE I GOT THIS HERE VASECTOMY MY GENES CAN FUCK THEMSELVES TONIGHT. —The R-Selectors, “Trunclade

No is not purely a negative. No is considered a bad thing in our permissive society. The no for you can be a savior. Glory-hound coworkers ask for your help and you know they won’t credit you? No, that is your project. Friend is getting a vasectomy before he even marries? No, I will not validate your odd choices. Single mom declares on social media she does a father’s work? No, you aren’t even a good mom. This man feels like a woman sometimes but other times feels like a man so they have a continuously changing set of names? No, and maybe get some help.

If it helps,” he says, “I had a vasectomy.

Ouch.” Seb winces at Spencer. “That’s got to hurt.” I close my eyes. “You should have seen her face,” I whisper sadly. “Fuck. If I were her I would have given you the vasectomy on the spot with my knee,” Spencer murmurs.

These kids could have starred in a social media campaign for vasectomies.

He passed a hair salon called Snip Away, which sounded more like a vasectomy clinic than a beauty parlor. The Snip Away beauticians were either reformed mall girls or guys named Mario whose fathers were named Sal. Two patrons sat in a window - one getting a perm, the other a bleach job. Who wanted that? Who wanted to sit in a window and have the whole world watch you get your hair done?

Beginning in the 1920s, and for nearly twenty years, Steinach pioneered one of the most popular and controversial rejuvenation treatments. He claimed that vasectomies boosted sex drive, intellect, energy, and just about anything else that withered with age. Steinach believed that blocking the exit of manly juices (which is what a vasectomy does) prompted a congestion of them, much the way a traffic jam causes a pile-up of cars.

Men lined up for vasectomies, believing that they would become stronger, wiser and sexier. Yeats said it “revived my creative power, it revived my sexual desire, and in all likelihood will last me until I die.” A sixty-one-year-old man (one of many testimonials in Steinach’s memoir), who had been tired and sad and had lost all interest in sex claimed that after the operation “my memory is better, I understand things quicker. I live now like a man about 40 or 50 years old, and am in such good spirits that I find myself going about singing.” The rise and fall of the revitalizing vasectomy is a demonstration of the powers of placebo and publicity—how, even in medicine, being in the right place at the right time can make all the difference between flop and phenomenon.

A half shelf-life for a woman is about thirty-five. The real shelf life is forty. Once you’re forty and dating online, no guy who wants to have kids is willing to even meet you. Divorced guys who already have kids will meet a forty-year-old, but many of them have had vasectomies.

he says, “I had a vasectomy.” I draw back, shocked out of the moment. “You what?” “They’re reversible,” he says, blushing for the first time since we started this. “And I took . . . precautions, in case I want kids and the reversal doesn’t work. They usually do, but . . . anyway, I just . . . didn’t want to accidentally get someone pregnant.