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Pregnant With Yet Another Miracle before/after Went to the local Taco Bell. I was a little distance from the window. I didn't pull up as close to the building as I could have. Excessivly pregnant woman at the drive through window handed me my stuff, struggled against her girth, her...plugged up birth canal...to hand me the food, saying, 'I can only reach so far, I'm pregnant.'. I grabbed my diet pepsi and tacos, saying, "Thanks...and...congratulations.", driving off. I got down to the taco bell trash can, the one that I flick my staw paper wrapping residue towards, but hardly ever in, because its set so far from the curb, I can't reach the plastic spring loaded flap. That, and I don't want to touch a trash receptacle in the middle of my food consupmption deal. Reached the trash receptacle, and said in cynical voce', "Yeah, congratulations on catching the baby batter." I had to laugh a bit evilly. I mean, c'mon. Everybody has kids. Like bill hicks said, "Yeah, its a miracle. And the miracle is spreading like wildfire throughout all the tailer parks in the land." How can some of these people actually think their children will be special? I saw this one guy on father's day, this fat slob of a guy, reeking of selfishness, couch potato man who thought a bit too highly of himself, tending to a grade school son, well pampered, milk soft boy, straight hair, glasses, button down shirt, blue and white plaid tucked into brown corderoys at the grocery store self check out kiosk. The couch potato was wrapping up his half gallon of ice cream, muttering to his kid, which it was really clear by his mannerisims, body language and the rest that he had very little to do with his child, this life that he had made. "Okay, sweetie, first we wrap the ice cream...then we wrap it again so it doesn't melt on the way home." Sage advice, fat man. Wouldn't want that to happen, now would we? Christ, where the fuck do you live that your shit will melt quite so fast? Try a closer supermarket, dipshit. And then it occurred to me that he was having real trouble communicating to his child, and had little to say to him, thus the stupid ice cream advice. But he did think the world of him, hence the salutation to the boy, "sweetie". Ugh. Probably drinks himself into a stupor every night and thinks brave thoughts about his boy, never getting involved, maybe even coming up with some sort of crazed selfish rationale as to why its better that he not be involved with the boy or his mother, probably only seeing him a few times a year. And, yeah, look in the mirror, buddy. Yer' kid ain't gonna' be a world-beater. "I know YOU think they're special...I'm just here to tell you...they're NOT."--Bill Hicks. I think that a lot when I see fat parents and skinny children. Parents belonging to the neglectful, self obsessed self indulgent baby boomer generation of hypocrits. "Baby boomers, the generation that said 'make love, not war' and is telling their children 'just say no'."--George Carlin Make love, not war, but please abstain from premarital sex, because yer' mother n' me don't like it. And buy a eddie baur ford expedition. Because if we stop buying shit, the terrorists win.
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