Believe it or not, Hillary Clinton and female MC's have a lot in common(vibe.com)

Looking back on it now its sort of silly, but back when I was in High School nothing put the fear of god in me more than becoming a teenage parent - a phobia that only surpasses my current fear of heights, clowns, or Tyler Perry sitcoms. Sure my parents added to said fear, my usually calm and collected mother made it seem like having a kid in High School was akin to a death sentence - and my old man wasn't any better, he had me thinking that I'd have to quit school and work in a God-damned coal-mine if I ever procreated around the same time that I received my drivers license. Not only that, but the exact same way an overweight woman might feel a little funny about receiving things like low fat milk-shakes and stair-masters as Christmas Gifts - getting a lifetime supply of condoms from your parents is all kinds of wrong man, especially when my mother would point to the box and say "See honey, it's ribbed for her pleasure, with a spermicidal tip no less!!" But the main reason that I didn't want to have a child while I simultaneously struggled with Trigonometry had to do with John Hughes.

Yes, "Sixteen Candles", "The Breakfast Club", "Weird Science", "Pretty in Pink", "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" - that John Hughes. See, before I became an adult and couldn't get through any of the aforementioned movies without screaming "Don't black people go to High School John!!" at my television screen, I worshiped these movies as if they were the holy fucking grail. I just knew that his flicks were the template of High School life to come, teenage angst, mischief, and bitter sweet moments where I know I'm falling in love when "The Thompson Twins" or Paul Young play in the background while I passionately kiss the "diamond in the ruff" band nerd. A bratty fucking crumb-snatcher wasn't going to jeopardize that, or me skipping a day of school that I'd remember for a lifetime, a life altering Saturday detention where I bond with 4 complete strangers - and I'd be damned if fatherhood would interfere with me making a woman out of magazine cut-outs and Lil Kim lyric sheets via my computer. A robotic sex slave of sorts, someone to give such ignorantly sloppy oral sex that with my eyes closed I'd be damned if I didn't accidentally clone Fantasia.(Read more here)