Since I just made it up, I doubt you have heard of pregmancy, but I now officially declare it a thing. Pregmancy is when a man drinks so much beer that he resembles a pregnant woman.
The problem is that a pregmant man can do a lot of things a pregnant woman can’t. Here is a list of those incongruities, in no particular order:
Drink. If pregnant women have a few, they risk the chance of a slew of birth defects. If pregmant men drink, their beer babies only grow bigger and healthier.
Maintain the shape of their orifices. We have all had the beer shits once or twice in college, and we all know that they don’t destroy any parts of our body that don’t deserve it. The vagina, though? What did the vagina ever do to justify all that abuse and stretching?
Opt out. It’s true that a pregnant woman has a certain amount of time to decide if she actually wants to go through with the pregnancy, but that window is relatively small. A pregmant man can decide at any time to lay off the beer and hit the gym, and then it’s bye-bye beer baby.
At first glance it may seem that a pregmant man may have it better because they don’t have to go through nine months of agony, but as any mother will tell you those nine months are nothing compared to the lifetime of joy you get from being a mother.
That, and a pregmant man will never get a better seat on the subway, he will just get recriminating looks for being so out of shape.
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