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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Comedy · #1966829
A satirical rant
It’s a difficult life, being a teenage girl. You are stuck living at home, flunking all of your exams, without two beans to rub together. But thanks to our wonderful Government, there is a new option available to you all, instead of going to college, University or getting a job. That’s right girls, have a baby! Why bother scraping the bottom of the moral barrel and working, when you can just spawn thuggish, intimidating babies, and get paid for it? Due to a lack of youth based activity and sex education being provided in urban areas, casual procreation is becoming much more common. So why not join the baby boom? Find yourself a lanky social reprobate down the park for the fertilisation process and you can easily acquire one of these fabulous fashion accessories. Before you know it, you will be swaggering around with an exaggerated belly, grossly protruding from your tracksuit top. This belly is a symbol of status, and everyone in the estate will be envious of you!

After 9 months of living a fashionable life of Riley, you will eventually be required to force the baby through the valley of the shadow of death, and give birth to it. This is often deemed as being a difficult process, but smuggle a bottle of value cider into the labour ward with you, take all of the drugs offered and you will be on cloud 9 throughout the delivery. The most difficult part comes after it has clawed its way out, when you have to pretend to actually like your child, and express some sort of feeling towards it. Remember that bursting into tears of horror can be easily mistaken for tears of joy, so try that.

Usually, at this point, you will be required to name your baby. This can be quite a difficult process for someone with such a basic grasp of education, so I would recommend just making it up. Add lots of extra letters to make your child’s name even more unique, and remember, the tackier, the better. Alcoholic beverages, celebrity names and geographical locations are often a popular choice for the younger parent, so play around with some of those.

After you’ve birthed Shaquila Diiisney, shove a dummy in her mouth, stuff her into her baby carrier and get your stitched up perineum to the job centre as soon as you can. Spout some bullshit about how over crowded you are, living at home with your Mum and 12 siblings, and then, if you are fortunate enough, you will be handed the keys to your fabulous council flat almost immediately. Don’t worry about buying any furniture or anything, as you can further drain tax payers’ money by applying for a grant to pay for household items instead. So reassess your responsibilities, get straight on your contract iPhone and arrange a party!

Before long, your free money will begin to trickle in. You should probably use this to buy basic necessities, such as new trainers, hair extensions and copious amounts of makeup. Need some fags? Never fear, with this little money spinner you’ve just given birth to, you can afford to smoke AND drink. You can be sucking on that beer can like your baby is on its formula bottle. Because, let’s face it, why breast feed and go through all that stress, when you can get free vouchers from the Government to pay for your babies formula milk?!

Of course, there are certain responsibilities typically associated with being a mother and maintaining this free lifestyle that you will have to bear in mind. Such as feeding the baby 3 times a day. Easy to forget of course, but just correspond it with the feeding schedule of your 8 pitbull rescue dogs, and you should be fine. And then there is the hassle of trying to find a babysitter every Goddamn night so that you can go out. If your own mother is knackered after spending the entire day on her feet in the job centre queue ,and your mates are too busy also getting pregnant, there is always the option of leaving your spawn home alone. Everyone does it. Just remember to leave the door unlocked, in case anybody needs to get in.

Also, you must bear in mind that occasionally you will need to bathe, clean and dress your child. This is an irritating task, but unfortunately a necessity. People will raise their eyebrows and question your fabulous parenting techniques if you’re out in the pits of winter on another shoplifting voyage, and little Shaquila Diiisney is slouched in her pushchair with nothing but a bean stained vest on. Though I shouldn’t worry too much about Social Services becoming involved. They’re not particularly fussed regarding child welfare.

Remember that occasionally your child will need some basic, human interaction, and will express this desire through a horrific screeching sound, often reaching its peak when you’re busy watching your 3D television and making a tricky roll-up. Shouting a few profanities at the little shit often does the trick in shutting it up, but if not, a shot of whiskey into its bottle should help calm it down.

Force your way through these difficult times, and remember that they won’t last forever. Because before you know it, Shaquila Diiisney will be trotting off to her Government funded nursery placement, and you will have all the time in the world to kick back, watch Jeremy Kyle, and ponder further procreation and social piss taking.
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