Pink has given birth to a baby girl. A stupid, stupid baby girl. A baby that will cry, defecate, vomit and drag every ounce of Pink’s sorry life out of her until she’s even more of a husk than she was before. And we’re supposed to care. We’re supposed to give a flying fuck.
See, this is what happens when someone completes the tedious biological feat of unifying a sperm and an egg. We’re supposed to coo about how beautiful a moment in human history it is, despite the fact, as underlined in the thousands of housing estates in Britain, even the most dithering thicket-brained bovine can get pregnant.
Effectively, all a baby is, is a signal that condoms are brilliant and that a person has decided to completely give up on life, in favour of bestowing their flickering hope on another human who, obviously, will continue the cycle of failed potential, in turn, having children of their own and perpetuating the notion that where there are future humans, there is hope.




