If you’re too shy to talk about birth control, you’re too shy to fuck.

Schoolgirls are being provided with contraception ‘credit cards’ so they can get the morning-after pill without the embarrassment of having to ask for it.

The cards will allow youngsters to request the pill simply by placing the card on the pharmacist’s counter.

Supporters of the scheme say it will cut unplanned pregnancies by helping teenagers avoid a potentially “daunting” conversation.

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The town has an above average rate of teenage pregnancies, and youth workers believe one reason for this is that teenagers are too ashamed to ask for the morningafter pill.

A pharmacist is a professional. If you can’t talk to them to even ask for the goddam pill, what on earth were you thinking when you spread your legs?

“If you are a teenage girl it is quite a daunting thing to go into a pharmacy and say out loud: ‘I had unprotected sex.’ There may be somebody in [the pharmacy] that you know and in the past that sort of thing may have put girls off from asking for emergency contraception.

Remember when that same sense of shame used to keep girls from spreading at all? Now we just make it easier and easier for them to have random sex.

From the comments:

It’s not a pill they need. It’s a cork.

And he’s causing a helluva fuss. Ever since he wrote It’s the Demography, Stupid! last year, and then expanded it into America Alone, it feels as if he has singled me out to personally save civilization by breeding. And as if that’s not scary enough, my biological clock now ticks in his unusual pseudo-British voice.

I am bombarded daily by walking watermelons in the office, oversized prams blocking the sidewalk on my way to Saturday brunch, this week’s Macleans with the cover screaming “Hey Lady! What will it take to make you breed?” and myriad other not-so-subtle hints.

It’s normal to feel persecuted by my own ovaries. I’m thirty years old, healthy, moderately content with life (a massive improvement over how I felt in my twenties!), and female. My brain knows what it wants out of life, but my basest physiology is very much in tune with biology and survival of the species. How in tune? The Steyn-Clock only starts ticking in the presence of an Alpha Male. I am happily married to the world’s most wonderful Beta Male, but Mother Nature and Mark Steyn have advised me that it’s my ovarian destiny to breed super-children with an Alpha Male. And there’s no fooling Mother and Mark.

It’s usually easy to ignore. After all, I live in Toronto. Not a lot of Alpha Males here. So Im able to go about my business, scowling at the Yummie Mummies taking up valuable rush hour space on the subway or at the endless streams of welfare baby-mommas taking up valuable oxygen that Al Gore says we’ll be out of soon. Mr. Right - beloved Beta Male - and I can joyfully and selfishly coexist, with the cats and the dog for unconditional love and (I shamefully admit) the occasional miniature designer outfit. We would be a deplorable parental duo. Both of us far too focused on our own issues and interests. Both of us lazy. Mr. Right is an excellent parent to me, wrangling the demons of my childhood that I carry with me. He’s warm, caring, infinitely patient… but would forget a baby in the bathtub or even the grocery store. I have all the necessary instincts - right down to waking in the middle of the night if I hear one of the kitties being sick - but I would be one of those women you read about and shake your head, the one who drives her minivan full of kids into a lake.

But put me in the vicinity of an Alpha Male, and my ovaries stand up and salute! They sing the Star Spangled Banner. Five minutes with an Alpha, and I’m picking out names. Hawaii was a nightmare for a child-phobe like me - surrounded by the very best America has to offer in the form of Army, Navy, Marines and yes, even the Air Force. Not to say that every one of them is an Alpha - far from it. But the available percentage was much, much higher than under normal circumstances. So there I was, in Paradise, surrounded by Alphas, with Mark Steyn screaming from my nether regions. When it comes to my biological makeup, I’m no better than a cat. Gross.

The biggest problem is that Mark hasn’t quite figured out that we’re home now. We’ve been home nearly a month. But still all I hear is tick-tick-demography,stupid-tick….

Obviously this explains the prevalence of gay marriage, metrosexuals, and Colin & Justin.

Back in the summer of 2001, a team of Canadian and U.S. researchers spiked a lake in Northwestern Ontario with traces of synthetic estrogen used in human birth control pills. They then repeated the unusual treatment for the next two years and sat back and watched what happened to minnows living in the lake.

The results were nothing short of frightening. Exposing fish to tiny doses of the active ingredient in the pill, amounts little more than a whiff of estrogen, started turning male fish into females. Instead of sperm, they started developing eggs. Instead of looking like males, they became indistinguishable from females. Within a year of exposure, the minnow population began to crash. Within a few years, the fish, which at one time teemed in the lake, had practically vanished.

Ok, but what do these fish have to do with Colin & Justin, you ask? Fair question. It seems that the test samples of estrogen were meant to mimic the type and quantity of estrogen that makes it through waste water purification. Which means I - on the Pill - take a piss. It gets cleansed and purified, and your son drinks it. Next thing you know he’s talking about his feelings, writing poetry, and making moon-eyes at the boy next door.

It’s not known what effect, if any, human exposure to estrogen in drinking water might have, although Dr. Kidd said it is an area that should be a research priority. Reproductive problems in human males, such as declining sperm counts and testicular cancer, have been rising in recent decades, and the causes are not known.

“When we see these kinds of responses in fish, it raises a red flag for what these compounds are doing to humans,” she said.

Dear God, what have we done? We take the Pill to avoid having children, and it emasculates our men to virtually ensure that we’ll never have children. Obviously I can’t cast the first stone here, but I definitely think it’s worth further study.

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