The second it’s born, I’m going to run over there, pick up the afterbirth and sell it on ebay, and tell the kid:
“Hi, darling! Welcome to the world, little one.
“You should know that your mama’s last serious relationship lasted 72 days.
“Your dad is the one who made a Kard-ouchian of himself by running onstage at an awards show to humiliate the winner, to name one of many annoying stunts.
“Your late grandpa is the one who helped hide O.J. from justice and ultimately was invaluable to the mission of getting him off.
“And your grandma pimps out her family to a cunning, yet egregious extent–and what’s more, she made that horrible music video in the ’80s.
“You will surely be popped out on national television, because in nine months ratings will definitely be needed. (Maybe even before that. Try to hurry out.)
“And after that, you will be scrutinized, accessorized, photographed, given your own reality show at the age of three months, then scrutinized some more.
“I wish you well, despite all of this.
“And I don’t blame any of you for it either! It’s certainly not your fault.
“Welcome to the world, little one.
“Be sure to get a really good agent.”