Single Guys Who Summer In The Hamptons Are Getting Vasectomies To Thwart Golddiggers; Guess I Need A Vasectomy

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NY Post- The latest Hamptons summer accessory? A vasectomy.

When Scott, a male model who says he’s in his 30s, kicks off the Hamptons high season this weekend at his Sag Harbor waterfront house, the unattached hunk won’t have any reservations about hooking up with women he hardly knows.

“I had a vasectomy a few months ago. Having a house in the Hamptons and being fairly well-off, I’ve encountered some problems — women try to get pregnant,” said Scott, a regular on the society scene who earns a cool half-million a year.

He recalled sex partners who have lied to him about being on birth control. “It’s a trick. [They say] ‘I love you, [we] don’t need a condom.’?”

Scott — who describes himself as “Tarzan with light eyes” — typically beds up to 10 different women per summer and estimates that 20 percent of the single ladies he encounters are looking to trap a rich guy with a baby.

The goal? At the very least: 18 to 21 years of child support and, in some instances, a green card for the mother, since their child would be born in the US. At best: Scott said, “Women want that Cinderella story [of happily ever after], but I’m noncommittal at this point in my life.”

“There’s a spike in single guys” who get the procedure in spring and early summer, said Dr. David Shusterman, a urologist in Midtown.

“They don’t want to be in the situation of being accused of fathering an unwanted baby,” said Dr. Joseph Alukal, a urologist at NYU. “That’s their fear — being told you’re paying for this kid until it’s [an adult].”

“This extortion happens all the time. Women come after them. [They get pregnant and] want a ransom payment,” said Shusterman. “Some guys do an analysis of the cost — for three days of discomfort [after a vasectomy], it’s worth millions of dollars to them.

“I never see a poor guy [asking] for a vasectomy,” he added. “Rich guys are a population that’s abused a lot.”

This might surprise you guys, given that I’m a blue-collar woodsman from Maine, but I spend my summer weekends in the Hamptons. I own a few pairs of white jeans and I like to drape a sweater over my shoulders when it’s breezy (I get cold in the summer because I spend March-May shredding my body fat to 6%). I like my rosé dry, freezing, and straight from the bottle. Every Saturday, I ask “what’s for brunch?” and the ONLY way to get east is by helicopter, laughing as I stare below at the crawling traffic of peasants flocking out to their pathetic share houses crammed with air mattresses and off-brand toothpaste.

Do you guys remember that insane Hamptons party last summer where the hedge fund dude rented a mansion, destroyed it, and was fired/sued? Clem blogged it. I lived it. Here I am RKOing a small Indian man into the pool:

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Where’s Francisco?!

Given my robust sex life and choice of summer weekend escape, this story hit a nerve. At first, I thought it was the most sexist pile of nonsense I’d ever read. “Scott” calls himself Tarzan with light eyes? Tarzan HAS light eyes you cartoon-deaf douche yurt.

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Do better Scott. No wonder only 20% of your sexual partners are trying to get pregnant off your seed.

Given how much of a hot air balloon this guy is, I assumed this story was total malarkey. But then the doctors corroborated these claims and now I’m researching sperm banks to freeze my swimmers ahead of an immediate, violent vasectomy. I don’t care if they use a goddamn buzzsaw; I’d happily get this procedure done like a scene from Hostel. Tie those tubes tighter than a taut tightrope–I want sailors from the 1800s coming in to check the knots. NOTHING GETS OUT!

I simply can’t have a kid. Chaps and Clem seem to like me but Kevin doesn’t because I have better sneakers so there’s no chance the Podfathers would give me a seat. Plus, the world doesn’t need more redheads. Let us die out like a star, over thousands of years, leaving a black hole of color. We will go gentle into that good night.

Apparently our colorblind Tarzan fell for “I love you. We don’t need a condom.” If some woman said that to me, I would tie the bed sheets together and rappel out the window faster than you can say kindergarten. Haha who am I kidding, no I wouldn’t. I would have sex with her and then have a child because I’m a guy and we are incapable of rational thought when faced with microwave-safe vagina.

It gets worse:

Just ask John, a 34-year-old bachelor who had the procedure this month. 

The real-estate developer… doesn’t want a repeat of last summer, when a woman he met at a party tried to pull a fast one after sex.

She offered to dispose of the used condom, but when she was in the bathroom for a while, John got suspicious. He found the woman seated on the toilet and inserting his semen inside of her.

“She denied it, but she tried to get herself pregnant,” said John, who grabbed a towel and made her clean herself and then shower. “After that, I have to be a lot more careful.”

As added insurance, John has frozen his sperm in case he decides to one day have children with a woman he loves. Shusterman recommends this to his patients and points out that reversing a vasectomy has a success rate of about 50 percent.

That seals it: I’m sealing it. All this time, I’ve been thinking sperm dies when it hits the air. Meanwhile, hopeful mothers everywhere are artificially inseminating themselves like livestock as naïve men recover among sweaty bedsheets, respectfully waiting their turn for the bathroom. I think I speak for all Hamptons bachelors when I say ladies… the gig is up. No more illegal children.


“Rich guys are a population that gets abused a lot.” –Dr. Shusterman–Francis Ellis