Blogs part two: Shit and shitter.

I originally intended for "Blogs." to be a one-off bitchfest. Unfortunately, the other day I was smacked in the face with a blog so painfully abhorrent that I was forced to stab myself in the temples several times with a spoon.

If there's anything that I hate more than babies, it's people who believe that their babies are thinking the exact same things that they, the moronic parents, are thinking. This type of disgusting logic is generally abused by advertisers, who make adverts for cat food by making the cat audibly think, "Yum! Meaty chunks soaked in the finest beef jelly!" or some other asinine bollocks. People watch these adverts, and are obviously swayed by the little kitty's wishes. Of course, in reality, the cat's probably thinking, "Oh shit. That gangly cunt's given me duck labias again". The same is utilised in adverts for nappies, where the baby is given a squeaky 30 year old's voice, and is commenting on how huggably dry this new nappy really is! No. Babies couldn't give two shits. It's a fucking baby. Do you remember being 3 months old? Because I sure as shit don't. Babies are just lumps that lie there, whilst their disgustingly doting parents shove various differently coloured bobble hats on them. They don't understand what's going on, and consequently, they don't give a fuck whether Pampers Baby-Dry absorbs 25% more liquid than other leading brands.

And so, that brings me to the afore-mentioned blog. This blog, awesomely named "Griffin's Diary", is a constantly updated blog about little ol' Griffin's early, and insanely dull, life. So, the first entry in this blog is dated May the 4th and baby Griffin is, at this point, about 16 weeks old. Here is the entry:

"Mom and Dad have been telling everyone that they are having a baby for quite a while now, but today was my first real introduction.

Now they know I'm a boy!"

Wait wait wait. Am I correct in thinking that this in the first person? Is this the 16 week old baby's inner thoughts I'm reading here? Now, if my knowledge of gestation periods is correct, that means that the foetus is only a couple of weeks into its second trimester. If you were to ask your doctor, "Does my foetus understand its own existence?" the doctor would have to officially give you a roundhouse kick to the throat for asking something "so retarded". But no, the parents who were thick enough to call their child "Griffin" are clearly also thick enough to believe that their child has conscious thoughts. Or maybe not; maybe the kid is a baby genius, like in that early 90s film with the baby geniuses of which I can't remember the name.

It's stupid though, how parents have this deluded view of their children's intelligence. Here's a breakdown of the emotions that babies, up until the age of about 1 years old, have:

• Hunger.
  
• Tiredness.
  
• Pain.
  
• Indifference.
  

And a list of the emotions that babies are not capable of:

• Anger.
  
• Resentment.
  
• Jealousy.
  
• Empathy.
  
• Love.
  
• Hatred.
  
• Excitement.
• Shame
  
• Stress.
  
• Depression.
  
• Compassion.
  
• Rebellion.
  
• Aspiration.
  
• Hilarity.

And if only Griffin's parents had consulted me prior to starting their blog, they wouldn't have had to anger me by writing something like:

"Thank goodness mom got an epidurel, because I'm pretty upset and every time I kick her she gets a major contraction."

You're not upset you pink, fat little tosser. You're not anything! Ouch, so that's compassion and empathy there. Matt, 2 - Parents, 0.

Another blog entry:

"...if I can't go back in, then quit flashing that light at me, I don't wanna people seeing pictures of me in this condition."

Do I see anger, shame and hilarity there? Matt, 5 - Parents, 0.

And then:

"Snip, snip? HELLO? I was born with that... don't I need it? You know, when I'm older and surprise them with a piercing or tattoo, I'm reminding mommy and daddy that they were the ones who set the precedent for body modifications."

Rebellion and aspiration. Matt, 7 - Parents, still 0.

Finally:

"Second, mommy and daddy weren't paying attention and they put a shirt and bottom on me instead of a onesie. When I moved around inside of my blanket, it rubbed my cord stub. It hurt a lot and it even started bleeding everywhere, but they didn't notice for at least half an hour. They felt really bad. After all that, I was just pretty worked up. The next round of feeding, I was still pretty cranky."

Resentment, hatred, and retarded parents. Matt wins, parents lose.