It wasn’t until after I started drawing this one that I realized that it functions as something of a follow up to the last strip. Wholly unintentional, I assure you. Probably. I think. Man, I dunno, the subconscious is such a motherfucker, y’know?

If you’d like, feel free to take this as a biting critique of the unfortunate nomenclature of the “tea party,” a stinging indictment of abstinence-only “education,” or both. Or neither. I’ll gladly claim any misplaced depth of message as my own if it’ll endear you to my scribblings, but my primary intent was to make a silly joke. About sexual organs. And relations. You know, I’d like to think I could make a joke without going straight into someone’s pants, but sadly that does not seem to be the case.

Which… would certainly explain all those restraining orders, now that I think about it.