Does anyone disagree with that? Because if you do, you can take it up with a giant cartoon skunk I saw on a billboard in North Carolina.
The skunk, whose name we can only assume is Skippy or Sammy or something else that starts with an S and ends with a Y, appears as a public service announcement in celebration of National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. The slogan, "Teen pregnancy stinks," appears just over his tail.
Now, it may seem naive to fight poor sex education, restricted access to birth control, and raging teen hormones with a cartoon skunk, but Skippy was probably the best choice over the competition. Was there a Freddy the Frog, who says, "Teen pregnancy croaks?" A Terry the Tornado, who says, "Teen pregnancy blows?" There may have even been a Donna the Donkey-Show Dancer, who says, "Teen pregnancy sucks huge mule cock."
Skippy is a virtuous skunk- unlike that other cartoon skunk, so promiscuous that a white stripe from a fallen can of paint is enough to push him to the brink of jungle fever. Skippy believes in abstinence. Or does he? Upon further examination his message seems vague. "Teen pregnancy stinks." Just about everybody agrees with that, especially teenagers. But Skippy offers no answers. He doesn't say whether people should wait until they are married before they have sex, nor does he suggest handing out condoms in classrooms. And for that matter, I question Skippy's passion as a spokesmammal for this difficult issue. He seems to feel as passionately about pregnancy as most people do about Zima. Nevertheless, I hope our nation's teenagers aren't too jaded and cynical to take a giant cartoon skunk's important message seriously.
Picture it, the back seat of a borrowed Buick Century, sitting by itself in a dark parking lot on an infrequently traveled country highway. The windows, fogged from heavy breathing, provide panes of privacy for the young couple inside. The boy, Tad, poised above his lover, Jan, prepares to pull off her cotton panties, the last scrap of cloth keeping them from pleasures they've yet to experience. As he moves his hands further up her hips, slipping his thumbs under the elastic waistband, she pulls her mouth away from his to get his attention.
"Tad."
Tad doesn't hear her, for the moment she pulls her mouth away, he slides his lips down her neck.
"Tad."
"What, Jan?"
"I was just thinking maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"What do you mean? You love me, don't you?"
"Of course I do, but, well… do you have a condom?"
"No. It's our first time. You won't catch anything."
"No. I mean, what if I wind up pregnant?"
"So?"
"Well, it's like the giant cartoon skunk says, teen pregnancy stinks."
"Gosh Jan, you're right. And so is Skippy - teen pregnancy does stink."
"I'm glad you understand."
"Yeah, let's use the back door."
"Okay!"
And thus begins a series of long lusty summer nights for Jan and Tad, exploring the pleasures of an orifice, forbidden by state law, through which no one can get pregnant. And all thanks will go to our pal Skippy the Skunk.
TODD MERRIMAN believes anything a squirrel tells him.
