In light of multiple strangers repeatedly telling me, “keep your legs closed,” I’d like to avoid further embarrassment by explaining that I can, in fact, get pregnant with my legs closed.

Shockingly, a woman’s legs are not metal appendages that open and close like steel gates to a cattle pen. Thanks to your parents storming PTA meetings to ensure your lack of sexual education, you remain clueless when it comes to sex and continue to spread the rampant myth that if women keep their legs closed, they cannot get pregnant.

By simply bending over—you know, just like you do when reaching down to pick up your TV-ordered tactical military sunglasses that fell off during your last Call of Duty tantrum—a slut like me can indeed have sex with their legs closed. That’s right, a sex partner with a good attitude and a fundamental understanding of physics can still get their dick in there. A person who has had sex in more than just the missionary position would know that, but, strangely, you seem as committed to poor anatomical understanding as someone trying to work their way through a tattered deli punchcard to get to the free terrible sandwich at the end. How ironic that “close your legs”—a retort born of sexual myth—only highlights your epic ignorance of anatomy and sex.

Astonishingly, this closed-legs sexual witchcraft can be practiced not only while standing, but also while laying down, a position those of us who’ve actually gotten laid like to call “spooning.” It’s hard to imagine a fully grown adult admitting ignorance of this basic sexual position, itself a confession of never having spooned, nor been spooned. No wonder you’re so upset.

Other things us tramps can do with our legs closed are: drive cars, vote, and write comedy pieces about your sad, under-spooned, misinformed ass.

You know that cliché joke about not being able to find the clitoris? You can completely ignore that one—it’s not for you. If you don’t know about women getting pregnant with their legs closed, then you are a million lightyears from ever finding the clit. You still require lessons on how to get inside a vagina, even after its owner has willingly bent over in front of you, guiding the way with signal flares and those inflatable car dealership thingies.

So maybe leave the hypothetical pregnancy discourse to those of us who can actually, you know, fathom how it occurs in the first place, not to mention know which hole we pee out of.

Instead of “close your legs,” a more accurate phrase might be, “you’ve revealed the invalidity of my very flimsy argument about preserving life, and that I actually need more women to get trapped by unplanned pregnancies because I cannot compete with them for jobs, due to my mediocrity.” So much simpler.