I am an asshole.
Let’s just stipulate that before we go any further.
I wouldn’t want you thinking wow, this is nice, then reading on and realising oh wait, this guy’s an asshole.
So lose any misconceptions you may have, because I’m not just an asshole, I’m self-appointed King of all.
Now we’re done with that, let’s all pay attention for a minute. Facebook people, gather round … go on, pull your chairs closer. You too, WhatsApp group members.
Twitter smart-asses, you can just sit on the tables against the back wall and play with your smartphones. You Instagrammers, uhm never mind, just carry on taking photos at the buffet table.
Because the world really needs another grungy photo of a red velvet cupcake.
Right. Let’s begin, shall we?
Male plus female (or test-tube plus petri dish) equals human baby. Get it? Got it? Good.
Your new baby is exciting and wonderful and the best thing to happen to humanity since the first guy put the first cow’s first titty in his mouth and discovered milk.
That he was immediately killed by salmonella is another matter entirely.
Now listen very closely, I shall say this only once; I do not care about your baby.
Yes your baby is cute, but there are a million similarly cute babies being similarly cute in the same town at the same time. Your baby is smart, and fun, and funny, and the most wonderful creature to ever breathe the foul air on our dying planet.
I still do not care enough to watch that video of your baby giggling at the television. I don’t give enough shits about your baby to open that photo album you really should have titled Baby’s First Shits.
I am done with the photos, the videos, the instant messages full of Baby. We get it, you have a beautiful baby.
Call me when he gets a personality.