An Open Letter To Kim Kardashian’s Baby

3 Jan

Dear Kim Kardashian’s Baby,

First of all, I refuse to refer to you as “Kimye’s Baby”. That would mean assuming that Kanye is the baby’s daddy, and there are just too many potential Maury paternity test result memes to go around making “Imma let you finish” punchlines. As if this is a definite. Now that I’ve cleared that up, I can move on to more important things. Such as how unstable and psychotic you make me feel. I want to hate you, and you are only a fetus. Why must the two most awful human beings to grace Hollywood come together to create you? This is not okay.

Second of all, please let us know your intentions. I know that as a fetus, this could be difficult for you. You cannot speak, at most a muffled gurgle from inside the womb. But I need a sign from you to let me know that everything is going to be alright. That E! will not have a special featuring Kim delivering you in a bathtub made of gold. That society won’t fall for this shit again, and Kris Jenner won’t prosper from it. That there will be no Kardashian Krib Kollection at Sears. You can send this sign in the form of a swift kick into the abdomen of the famewhore herself.

I can’t hate you, Kim Kardashian’s Baby. You’re a fetus, not yet a baby. And I pray that you won’t have to look at *Frankenberry fresh out of the womb. But know this: when the age of rational thinking and problem solving hits, if you haven’t gone the way of Macauley Culkin, full emancipation from the Kardashian/West union, consider yourself *Speidi’ed to me. Mark my words.

Love Always,

Scott Disick’s #1 fan




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