Frustrated by the lack of birth control options for men, my friend Jack recently agreed to take estrogen-based birth control for an entire month, to see what would happen. [Read Part 1 here.] Entering the third week of our experiment, I noticed a number of changes in his tasty, filthy body. But that's for later.
The first interesting development (besides breasts) has been a rise in the number of sleepovers with female friends. This is not a joke: Jack has been having an abnormally high frequency of sleepovers with female friends, with an abnormally low rate of sexual success.
To prepare for these encounters, Jack bought himself a pink Snuggie.
Holding the holy grail of outerwear.
Jack thinks Snuggies are brilliant inventions, claiming there's so much more you can do when your hands aren't bound in the confusing tangled web of a typical, low-tech blanket.
"I wonder if anything good is on Lifetime?"
"You told him, girlfriend!"
"It says nothing about pickles."
"If I can't get a man, I don't need one!"
So far, we had established that estrogen-based birth control is an effective way of preventing unwanted pregnancy, by significantly reducing a male's ability to attract women. Now it was time to move onto more rigorous, scientific experimentation, to quantitatively measure the effectiveness of the birth control.
I have been carefully measuring Jack's breasts for the last two weeks, determining their size, perkiness, and overall firmness. Since starting the birth control, Jack's total chest size has increased by an amazing 2 3/4 inches -- from 39 1/2 inches to 42 1/4. His boobs are small, but perfect.
"Anything more than a handful is wasted"
Hopefully in a couple months, he'll be able to wear these manly pasties.
Another interesting occurrence is a recurring dream Jack has been having, wherein a strange guy gives him a large amount of acid, then starts making out with him. This is not a joke, this is an actual recurring dream since starting on the estrogen. I can't imagine what the symbolism might be.
Jack also bought two pairs of shoes halfway through the second week, completely on a whim. One of them is very, very purple. The other pair is heels.
Jack has also reported that he gets about an hour of cramps after taking each pill. Since he described this as feeling "like something whacked me in the balls," I wanted to perform a testicle stress test on the subject, to see if his balls were getting stronger, or weaker. The subject declined this test, however, since it would require mashing his testes with ripe watermelons.
Despite having a lovely rack and great taste in footwear, Jack is one of the manliest men I know. I have seen him eat three pounds of red meat in one sitting, like a hyena feasting on a freshly killed moose. Eating contests are, of course, one of the most masculine activities on the planet. Eating 59 wieners in 12 minutes is very manly, and very heterosexual.
This guy set the world record for eating hot dogs. He has enough testosterone for the entire male species.
We tried something a little different. Prior to Jack starting the birth control, we had him see how much Activia he could eat in 12 minutes, the standard hot dog eating contest time limit.
Our baseline was 9 single serving cups of yoghurt. With Jack now being on estrogen for two full weeks, I hypothesized that he could eat at least twice that amount. There was only one way to find out.
"He's going to eat them! And then, he's going to eat me!"
This test would present an interesting conundrum, because I think eating more than nine cups of Activia in 12 minutes would require balls of steel. Yet I suspected Jack's balls were more like week-old grapes.
We set the timer for 12:00, put on the victory song ("Wind Beneath My Wings" by Bette Midler), and started the experiment. Subject Jack got off to a strong start, finishing the third cup in less than two minutes.
"It's like eating death!" - Jack
With 5:54 remaining, Jack was finishing his sixth cup of Activia. At this point he looked like he was going to slow down, but the look of determination in his eyes was powerful. (And feminine.)
Stories are written about these kinds of probiotic yoghurt binges.
The twelfth cup was impossible. I kept urging him on, "It's only wafer thin!" But it proved impossible.
The final count: eleven full cups of Activia in twelve minutes. Folks, if that's not womanly, I don't know what is.
Oh no! What if it's morning sickness?!
So far, Jack had avoided getting pregnant, but at the cost of growing breasts and being raped in his dreams. How much worse will things get as the hormones really take hold? Stay tuned for the conclusion of Jack's 28-day cycle!
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