The Solution For South Dakota: More Fucking:
Here's what we do: the age of consent in South Dakota is 16 years old, so this'll be easy. We gotta get a bunch of the smoothest black motherfuckers around, sweet-talkin', hot lookin' African American males, we're talkin' some Terence Howard or Andre 3000 or Taye Diggs-lookin' and actin' dudes, and get 'em on board for a mission to South Dakota, where the past-the-age-of-consent (which is, by the way, 16) white pussies are tight and virginal and ready for fuckin'.
Then we organize us a concert, say a double bill of Common and John Legend, maybe a mini-tour of the fine, repressed towns of Pierre, the ironically-named Deadwood, and the even more ironically-named Sioux Falls, places where meth use and HIV infections due to IV drug abuse are flyin' high.
Invite all the fine Christian youth groups, young women only past the age of consent, which is, as has been mentioned, sixteen, to the concert, and let them listen to Common for a little while. All of a sudden, in their pure white panties, they'll start feelin' sticky and strange, like they did for just a moment when they saw Michael W. Smith in concert, but now it's so much more intense, much hotter, and so goddamn-oops- damn tingly, and, what the hey? No one's makin' 'em feel guilty for it.
Then, the trap set, the troop of smooth black dudes heads into the club or American Legion Hall to start dancin' with the beautiful, snow-white daughters, all of whom are at least 16, of South Dakota. If a Taye Diggs-lookin' man is whisperin' in your ear, movin' slow to that groove, while John Legend is singin' "Let's Get Lifted Again," you are goin' to promise to do anything to fuck that man.
Which, of course is the end result of the evening. Fuckin'. Lots of fuckin'. All consensual. All without drugs or alcohol. All above 16. Just pure, passionate, oh, shit, ain't this fun, fuckin'. The cherry poppin' noises'll make it sound like New Year's Eve. Those upstandin' Christian white girls'll be shoutin' their "Hallelujahs" and "Amens" and really know what those words mean.
And when the night is over? Well, shit, it's South Dakota, man. Get those guys out of there. Fast. You seen how they treat the Indians who live there? How do you think they're gonna treat visitin' non-whites?
Over the next few weeks, months even, as periods are missed and crocodile tears are shed (for, indeed, there will be few real regrets), you can pretty much bet that abortion on demand will become the law of the land in South Dakota so fast that it'll seem that yesterday never happened.