When I look at the many problems facing our great nation right now, I sometimes feel entirely overwhelmed. But to me, one crippling issue stands out above any other as the single most significant and the most urgent: women have too much access to healthcare. For this reason, I will do everything in my power to defund Planned Parenthood immediately — just as soon as I get my dick out of this honey pot.

I simply don’t believe we should be using federal funding on some abortion factory, or to provide health services to reduce the need for abortions, or to provide prenatal care for women having children who may later grow up and need abortions. You know how much we spend per year on Planned Parenthood? Uh. I had the number here. I’ll grab it in a second. First, I just gotta get this… well… I have to get out of this situation.

Look, I’m fine. This honey pot thing isn’t that big a deal. Forget I mentioned it. My argument should be the main focus here… ehh… OK, now I’m regretting bringing up the honey thing at all. But I guess now it’s even weirder if I don’t explain, so, whatever. Real quick.

So I have this honey pot. It’s a glass jar shaped kinda like a beehive. We got it as a gift from someone. I can’t remember who. We keep honey in it. It looks like that thing you see at the end of Honey Nut Cheerios commercials? You know, with that like, circle dipper thing with the grooves? Yeah. It’s one of those.

Anyway, my dick’s stuck in it now. Like, really jammed in there. Yes, in the honey. Yes, I obviously tried to pull the top of the jar off but it’s stuck. It’s like, off the little track, you know? And I don’t wanna break it and have shards of glass all around my dick, that’s the last thing I need. This is maybe the second to last. So yeah, now I have honey, like, all up in there. But it doesn’t hurt, per se. Doesn’t feel good, though, either. It’s more embarrassing than anything, really. Although it shouldn’t be embarrassing, it’s just a weird accident. We all do dumb stuff.

And no, before you ask, I wasn’t trying to have sex with the honey pot. And I know me saying that makes me sound defensive, like I totally was. “Ha ha, let’s all laugh at the guy who keeps his honey in a separate jar, then also stuck his dick in it. He probably always dreamed of having sex with a beehive! Maybe Cheerios bee was on his celebrity cheat list!” He’s not. And I don’t. Those are just, things you might say. Not you specifically. Like, a heckler.

Ugh, God. Now you’re probably thinking, He came up with those example heckles WAY too fast. Maybe they’re true! They’re NOT. Why would they be? You really think if those heckles were true I’d just yell them out loud? Come on. All that happened was, I was moving some mail off the kitchen counter and I nudged the honey pot, it fell, then I caught it on the way down and next thing I knew I’m dick-deep in the gold stuff. I came up with THAT pretty fast, too, huh? Maybe THAT’S the truth. It is the truth, is my point. I’m just doing the sarcastic voice cause I was saying it wasn’t the first thing.

You know what? It doesn’t even matter. We can stand here and talk about who got whose dick stuck in whose novelty beehive jar til the friggin’ bees come home. But I won’t resort to some pissy ad hominem attack to dodge the question. My point is, the Planned Parenthood thing. And once you’ve had your little chuckles at my honestly not-even-that funny predicament, I think you’ll take one thing away from this whole exchange, whether you want to admit it or not: I was right.