If you think it'll make her cry, and you really want to hurt her, go for it.

If you think she's secure about her decision to terminate her pregnancy, then there's really no point.

But either way, know this: if you say it, a line is going to be drawn, sides will be taken, and you will very likely lose some friends forever.

You know, as I prepare to watch Chuck, Heroes, and what is possibly Christian Slater's final shot at saving his career, I can't help but more fully reflect on what a terrible idea calling her a baby killer is. You see, I once did a similar thing, and it is something I still regret to this day.

The time was junior high, and it was not a very pleasant time for me. While I would come into my own in high school and win over all of my peers that mattered, I was bullied pretty fiercely in junior high, and for no real reason. I was good at school, I was fairly quiet, and I hated Nirvana, so apparently that made it okay to shove me into lockers and whip tennis balls at me in gym class. Fine, whatever.

There was this one kid, let's call him JT Channing, who was an especially massive asshole. I don't know what the fuck his problem was, but he used to spend a large portion of his school day and free time shoving me into lockers, tripping me, knocking books out of my hand in the halls, and mocking me. It really, really fucking sucked.

Cut to the summer between 7th and 8th grade. There was popular trend where kids would have pegs installed on the back of their bikes so that they could take passengers places. So JT was hanging out with this other kid who had these pegs on his bike, and he decided he wanted to ride the kid's bike. So he gets on, then the other kid stands on the pegs, grab's JT's shoulders, and off they go. Well JT is gunning it down Main Street and he hits a pothole, and the other kid goes flying off the bike and rolls under a moving MBTA bus. He dies.

Cut back to 8th grade. JT is still a miserable worthless prick, only now he's even worse because he's dealing with the guilt of accidentally killing his friend. So he pushes me around even more. One day we're on a school bus getting back from a field trip and I'm standing, waiting to file into the line of students moving off the bus. He pushes me back into my seat, spits on me, and tells me I suck. So at that point, after a year and a half of unprovoked aggression, I've had it. I look him dead in the eyes and say: "Maybe I suck, but at least I'm not a killer."

The few people who hear me say it gasp. JT looks at me again, his eyes welling up with tears, tells me I'm fucking dead, and runs off the bus.

After that, things were even worse. He even came to my house with a baseball bat when my parents weren't home and I locked myself in the bathroom while my brother lied to him and told him I wasn't home. Eventually the school's assistant principal had to sit us down and resolve the situation. It was not a fun time.

And here's the thing. JT absolutely deserved what I said to him. He was horrible person and he treated me horribly. And I thought making him feel the same sort of pain he caused me, if only for a moment, would make me feel better. It didn't. Instead, it made me feel worse. I had allowed myself to be brought down to his level of ignorance, misery, and hatred and it was nauseating. And up until that point, I had always believed myself to be a good person who was the victim of random, unnecessary violence. After I said that, I no longer was. I was just as awful and cruel as him, and every time he shoved me into a locker, I couldn't help but feel I deserved it... and I did.

I wish I had just followed the conventional wisdom. They say that you should just ignore bullies and take the beatings because bullies get what they deserve in the end. I never really believed that. Well, JT did. He lost both his balls to cancer. I guess karma really is a bitch.