Im still being kept awake by the screaming antichrist baby that lives next door in the Jeremy Kyle holding pen. I was woken four times last night by the pink screaming salamander and its voice box of doom. Im a man, this is what babies look like to men, weve all seen the film Eraser Head. When babies cry we dont feel like feeding them, we feel like we want to cautiously poke the dangerous alien creatures with spoons. You have to be careful with babies, dont feed them after midnight because at some point whipped cream will come out of their mouth and they will grow into a huge enveloping demon head that will intrude in to every corner of our existence. Babies disturb and annoy me - I doubt I have one solitary paternal instinct in me whatsoever. If there was any paternal instincts buried in my black heart they have now been vaporised by the 110db salamander that is stashed far away from his parents room and right above mine. This baby has unknowingly destroyed my chance of having a happy normal future involving children. In fact Ive decided to donate my testicles to Nick Clegg as he desperately needs them. I will just have to become one of those weird middle aged guys that couples invite over to remind them what they could have been if all their dreams and aspirations hadnt been shattered. I can delight in telling them what its like to be able to buy a Ps4 and lots of Star Wars memorabilia instead of 30 Rusks and a cot. I can wax lyrical about the joy of standing in a night club telling the DJ that its too loud and to stop playing the beeping music. When Im old and grey I will become a cat gentlemen and have fifty cats, as dementia will have set in early at forty five. Last night I ate a block of cheese before bed as my nightmares are actually an improvement to my waking life. Unfortunately I forgot to turn off the heating and the salamander was screaming even more than usual. Because of this I had the sort of nightmares that would make Ted Bundy blush and woke up feeling like Charles Manson with M.E in a Svankmajer film. Thanks baby, my days going to be great. Anyway I have already begun plotting my revenge. Last week I bought a sound effects CD with a baby on it. Now whenever I go out to the pub or leave the flat for a few days I just turn up my 900 watt power amp up to ten and leave it on repeat. I have had blow jobs that made me smile less than when I recently left my flat for a week in the Cotswolds. Im a petty ball of hate its true, but I feel psychological warfare is better than complaining to the authorities. Its also much more fun.
Posted on: Tue, 26 Nov 2013 11:02:07 +0000
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