I spent my new year's eve with Sheila and Abner, a young couple that i have befriended over the years. They live in a modest log cabin in the icy wastes of Nunavut, Canada. Sheila and Abner are a great couple and about as normal as they come. Although it was new year's eve the real reason I went to visit Sheila and Abner was because they were expecting a baby, their 6th.
On new year's day they had an unremarkable home birth. Sheila's vagina looked like a well-worn catcher's mitt as its leathery folds undulated and pulsed, expelling the baby. The baby was followed by a blast of cottage cheese and a placenta that writhed as would a struggling one-legged octopus, shimmering in the reflection of the cabin's gas lamps.
We cut the umbilical cord and had a champagne toast while Sheila held the baby. "I am the first and the last," Abner exclaimed as Sheila walked outside into the frozen winter, grabbed the baby by his tiny ankle and dashed out his brains against the frozen scree.
I drank a quart of Jack Daniel's and thought of bygone presidents and what it would be like if my car had sexual intercourse with as many women as I had.
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