I’m not the type of person that can sit on a park bench or in the waiting room at my gynecologist to get my man-puss checked for pee-pee sicknesses and just strike up a conversation with people. When people start talking to me, my brain shuts off and I only respond with occasional Yeah’s and I know, right?’s. The reason for this is not because I hate all humans and dare not communicate with them. It’s because I like to just kick back and enjoy the silence.

When I do this, I tend to stare off awkwardly in to the middle-distance, and whatever saunters (or strolls, or wanders, or gambols) through my field of vision gets thought about deeply. War, strife, politics, or tough ethical and moral quandaries never seem to cross my field of vision, so it’s safe to say that I rarely think about such things when I stare off. Mostly I end up thinking about things like squirrels and, such as is the case today, babies — tiny human babies.

I took the time to write down some of the thoughts I had when I look at babies…and here they are.

“I find it strange that it is not socially acceptable to punch you now, but in 20 years it’ll be cool – even though you currently out-match me.”

“Don’t pick your nose in public. It makes you look retarded.”

“How much would you be worth on the black market?”

“How much would you be worth at the super-market?”

“If only I spoke your gibberish language fluidly enough to tell you to go fuck yourself in your own pacifier-sucking mouth. But, alas, I cannot. So, I think I’ll just leave a note so you can read it at your leisure.”

“Crib death. You aren’t equipped to survive sleeping. Pfft!”

“Yeah, it’s a rattle. It makes shaky-shake noise. I get it. Grow the fuck up!”

“There’s a fine line between burping a baby and drop kicking a baby.”

“At what point do you all stop looking exactly the same? In that sense I guess you’re like my cat: I see distinctive facial features that make up the facial structure of an individual living creature with its own distinct yet understandably primitive, instinct-driven personality, but everyone else sees a dumbass cat that just vomited on my bed.”

“I blame you for being the thing every pop music artist in the past 50 years has used as a filler word to link one set of shitty lyrics to another set of shitty lyrics. I blame you, BAAAAAAAA-BBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

“What’s up, homes? You wanna get cut or somethin’? Then why you keep lookin’ at me like dat, dawg? You can’t be just lookin’ at dudes on the train like that. You finna get yo ass stomped you keep that shit up, dawg. For real.”

“You’re a human: the smartest, the most advanced and the most deadly creature on the planet. But you’re a human baby, which means none of that means anything and you can get your ass kicked by a puppy.”

“I want to see the world from a baby’s perspective. I want to feel the overwhelming sense of wonder I once had about everything. I want to feel even the simplest of concepts are extraordinary. And I want to know if my baby inner monologue spoke with Bruce Willis’ voice.”

“After today I will never see you again. Then, 25 years from now, my cousin with call me. We’ll talk, I’ll ask about how you’re doing, and she’ll get really sad – depressed, even – as she talks about how you fell in to a deep depression and developed a debilitating drug addiction. She will cry, and I may even shed a tear…but then I will realize I’ve never seen you as anything more than a baby, so I’ll imagine you as a baby trying to injecting himself with a heroin needle.  I will smile.”

“Give it to me, baby!” (when we are in the throes of passion)

“Give it to me, baby!” (after you steal something of mine)

“I’ve been staring at you for a while. Your mom probably thinks I’m a baby-sexer. I’m not a baby-sexer. Of that, I am most sure.”

“When you see or hear of those über-smart babies that are already learning to read within their first couple of years, or are already creating art is that is refrigerator-worthy, I bet you feel the same way I do when I see a guy my age that makes $80,000 a year and already drives a Mercedes.”