I want to talk about this “more than 4 million women have used this” birth control patch. First off, in the commercials with the models skimming over the “heart attack stroke warnings” the patch is clean and neat, like a fresh pedicure. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s all bullshine.
Just forget the health risks of it; you spend over $300 on a pair of shoes. You should only spend so much on your pair of ovaries. Let me tell you this warning side effect, beyond shortness of breath and blood clots; no one will want to fcuk you again. We’re talking crust. The patch, in only a day, leaves a ring around your collar… ahem, a crusty ring around your patch.
Picture it: you stick a patch on your ass. Go ahead; let him spank it. Guess what? Just as he’s backstroking and ready to let gravity take over and paddle your ass for the erotic moan, he’ll get a glimpse of your crust. You washed with Dove, perfumed, and lotioned, and now you’re the crusty girl. You can’t wash the patch. You’re stuck with it, and I promise, no amount of care can shift the movement of lint sticking to your sticker.
We thread our brows and mow our lawns; now, girls, it’s no time to patch things up. The patch, my good friends, is for ripped jeans, not your ass, shoulder, abdomen, or ovaries. Lose the patch; embrace the pill. You wear the Ortho-Evra for a week before changing it; what else in your life can you say that about? Exactly. Enjoy the condom, despite the smell. You’ll feel less guilty. It’s bad enough you still don’t know his last name.