Wednesday, August 12, 2009


Since I graduated high school I've been tracking the number of people I associated with whom either had children/got married or died. Currently, babies are beating coffins 4-2, but one of those babies was my cousin's and that was totally foreseeable and was more a question of when, not if. So, since babies are up, that's what we'll be focusing on today.

Of these four babies one is my cousins, granted my second cousin but also my unattractive ghetto cousin so we're discounting her for the moment. Her baby is cute and chubby and half Latino/half Italian so he's got an incredible tan already, but his mother's not important to the conversation.

One of the babies is the son of a girl I graduated with. Dating the same marine for three years, one three-day pass resulted in one of those "We love each other and are gonna be together forever and have kids eventually but SURPRISE we're doing it now" babies. Cute story. Got married a little early, had their kid and are generally too cute for each other's good. For the record, the girl is like 5'9" and like 78 pounds and pale and now, clearly, very tired.

One baby is fresh and cute and has a much similar story but the wedding involves more of an angry father and a hunting rifle, though the kid and mother and father are all cute little kids.

The last baby is the oldest, ridiculously cute but unfortunately saddled with an faux-Native American name because his parents has issues with traditional white people behavior (which I totally support but I believe it is a parent's duty to name a child in the least mockable way).

Now this kid is adorable, yes. However, his mother is the first person I ever knew to bound into the category of MILF without the use of copious quantities of silicon and injectable Ebola virus. This girl was crazy hot scary goth girl in high school. She had a string of horrible, violent relationships until she found the pushover metalhead who moved into the district our senior year, and a beautiful love story filled with skulls and wilting roses ensued. He graduated at 18, she dropped out at 16. He got a job, she got her GED and a job. He bought her a pewter skull engagement ring with little black diamonds for eyes. It was adorable. They got gothically engaged but were not excited about me performing a ceremony in the coffee nook of the local Book/Scone retailer. They were saving up for a nice wedding and apartment when SURPRISE AGAIN! Yup, you're preggers. What's that you say? "It's more sensible to spend that money on the baby and just live together happily?" why that's just crazy enough to work! They're adorable, really. Still, and I reemphasize that while you may take from this story the wonders of actual love overcoming hurdles and potholes on life's winding passageways, the point of all this is that this girl had a fucking baby spit out of her vagina but when I see her posting pics from their family visit to Disney World for her birthday I can't help but think I would take that kid's sloppy seconds and wreck that shit like a demolition crew before Donald and Mickey could figure out how to perform a shocker with a four-fingered hand.

You know, if they weren't so adorable and in love and all.

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