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Jul 31 2008
You want to know what the best part about a dead baby is? No dirty diapers. No diapers at all really. No money spent on formula. No painting bedrooms pink or blue. None of that shit. Dead babies are rad—they don’t cry and they don’t make any demands whatsoever. I put a dead baby in my wife’s uterus with my pecker juice about two months ago. It was, hands down, the shittiest thing that has ever happened to me. The day after Mother’s Day I paid $200 to jerk off in a cup at a sperm-testing center to see if I was the problem with us not getting pregnant. As the nurse ran my credit card I asked her, “Do you know what I can get in Amsterdam for $200?” She didn’t find that funny, which coincided with how I felt about them charging me to perform my own manual labor.
Two hours after the hand job I administered, my wife decided to take a pregnancy test. It was positive. She was elated. I was out $200. “You couldn’t have took the test before I paid the $200?” I asked her. But she was so happy she didn’t hear me. I told my friend’s wife, “Starting now I’m making a tab of what this kid owes me when he grows up. I’ll let him slide on the modulation test strips, but this $200 I want back.” But soon I forgot about the money and got excited about finally getting one past the goalie in my wife’s pants. Then we went to the doctor and the lady made us cry. Then a nurse came in and made us cry some more. She said she was sorry. My wife told her it wasn’t her fault. She went to leave the room and I grabbed her arm and in a harsh, accusing tone I asked, “Or is it?” She got freaked out. I started laughing the laugh of a crazy man that has just been told there is a dead homeless man living in his wife’s vagina. Then I said, “Sorry. I’m just a bit insane. I mean, upset.”
You want to know what sucks about dead babies? You can’t stick them in people’s faces and say, “Look! We fucking had a baby! Get off our back with the ‘When are you going to have a baby?’ questions!” We just went to a wedding in Big Sur and as we sat in a riverbed drinking our Singapore Slings, one girl decided to get Columbo on the topic of our lack of babies. “Why don’t you have a baby?” “When?” “How come?” “You would make great parents.” And all that. I tried to be nice and simply say, “We’ve been trying,” hoping she’d get the hint. But the drunker she got, the more she probed and the more I wanted to rip her drunken face off. “WE’VE BEEN TRYING!” I said loudly and more angrily. By the fourth time in three hours she asked, I lost it and just screamed, in front of 14 other guests and about 50 patrons of the restaurant, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU DRUNK ASSHOLE? WE’VE BEEN TRYING FOR A YEAR AND HALF! SO WHY DON’T WE HAVE A BABY YET? WHY DON’T YOU GO ASK GOD? BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN TRYING AND THEY KEEP DYING! HOW’S THAT FOR A FUCKING ANSWER, ASSHOLE?!”
For more of Chris go to chrisnieratko.com or NJSkateshop.com.
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