Today at The death Pool we have heard from and have agreed to a request from our many readers who wonder why we have to be so "negative" all the time.  So in the spirit of our lemon into lemonade turning friends,  we would like to present to you "The Birth Pool".  That's right you heard it correctly.  For the next 10 minutes we are going to interview the newborns who enter upon this earth.  So without further ado may we present:

 The Birth Pool

TBP:  Man I gotta get used to writing that.  Well here we go,  Mr. and Mrs.  Sneed of Pickwick Iowa look like they're first up with the birth of a .........what the fuck is that?

OP:  Hey you said that you were going to be positive!

TBP:  Who the hell are you?

OP:  We are the optimists and we are here to enforce the "no negativity" rule.

TBP:  Oh shit, this is gonna hurt like hell.  Hold on I gotta have another tug on my beer.........o.k., forgive me folks.  Hey there folks looks like the Sneeds have a brand new baby girl and boy is she a cutie.  Look at that cute little birth mark right on her........I'm trying hard here........right on her..........I'm gonna bust my spleen into several pieces holding this in........right on her....right on her   FUCKING NOSE.  I mean she looks like a goose took a large turd right on her face.

OP:  Hey, hey, what the heck happened?  And what is with that pink font you're using there?

TBP:  I tried.  I mean I was trying to dress up the font in a happy color and everything to make it seem more optimistic and rosy but then that kid came out with the goose shit on her face and I couldn't hold on anymore.  I mean how can you be so optimistic with all this bad shit happening all the time.  People are dying, getting run over, beaten to death, losing their jobs, being born with goose shit on their face.

OP:  You have to always remember that things could be much worse.

TBP:  O.k. I'll try again.  Let's see who's up next?  Ah, the Wu's of some unpronounceable city in China.  Looks like they have a new little girl.  Ah and she is adorable.  Mr.  Wu,  you must be very happy.

MW:  I will not be satisfied until a son bursts forth from my loins!

TBP:  Hey optimists that wasn't me.

OP: We know.  Try the whole could be worse deal.

TBP:  Cool.  So Mr. Wu, at least she doesn't have goose shit on her face.

MW:  What?

OP:  What?

TBP:  I mean things could be worse Mr. Wu.  she could have been born deformed or something.

MW:  I guess you are correct.  But I need a son to help with the farm and carry on my name.

TBP:  Well,  I'm sure that you can try again.  How many girls do you have?

MW:  Three.  Now we must not have any more children.

TBP:  What?

MW:  The state says that we are only allowed to have three children.

TBP:  What state is this,  Alabama?

MW:  China.

TBP:  Now that's fucked up.  How am I supposed to be optimistic about this?

OP:  Umm...... at least he's not on fire.

MW:  What?

TBP:  What?

OP:  It's the best we could come up with.  Let's move on.

TBP:  If you say so.  Up next we have the Adams from New York.  Looks like it's going to be a baby boy.  Mr. Adams you must be very happy.

MA:  Oh shit yeah, fuckin overjoyed.  I'm already workin four fuckin jobs to support the six kids we got and now we're gonna have another mouth to feed.  Plus my eldest is in rehab and Junior has broken his collar bone for the third time in fuckin ballet class.  I need a beer.

TBP:  Once again I have to plead the fifth on this, optimists.  Do you guys want to handle this?

OP:  Sure, we'll take a crack at it. Hello Mr. Adams, looks like a good looking boy there.

MA:  Yeah, whatever.

OP:  You know that some day he may grow up to be president of The United States?

MA:  Or he may drain my fuckin wallet and then get a tattoo on his face that says "Pisshound" like my third boy Stanley.

TBP: Pisshound?

MA:  Yeah.  What the fuck does that mean?  He comes to Thanksgiving dinner with my folks and I have to watch him give my dying mother a kiss with Pisshound written on his goddamn face in red ink.  What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

TBP:  That's fucked up.  What do you guys have to say for that?

OP:  At least you're not on fire.

MA:  What?  Was that a fuckin threat cause I'll rub you're asses out right here.

TBP;  Hey that was all them, dude.

OP:  Let's get out of here!

TBP:  What?

OP:  Run!

TBP:  All right all right.  So should we keep this up or do you see my side of things?

OP:  There has  got to be one happy couple out there tonight.  Let's try one more.

TBP:  All right, you asked for it.  Looks like it's the Fritz family from Iceland.  They have a bouncing nine pound little boy.  damn it's cold here.

MF:  No shit.  I hate it here.

OP:  Oh no.

TBP:  Ain´t looking too good. Why are you here Mr. Fritz ?

MF:  I'm in the Navy and I had a choice of New Jersey or Iceland.

TBP:  Good choice.  So you must be happy with the new son, though.

MF:  Overjoyed.  I'm just so damn cold.  I mean its August.  Can't we have day in the 30's?  I wish I was on fire.

OP:  That's it.  We give up.  You negative assholes can have this site all to yourselves.  What about beautiful flowers, a great meal, a lovely symphony, sex?

TBP:  I believe that I can speak for Mr. Fritz here and say that we agree completely on the whole sex thing there.

MF:  Right on.

OP:  Oh go to hell.

MF:  What's their problem?

TBP:  No shit you guys gotta cheer up.  Here I'll do something we haven't done for a long time....

OP:  You're gonna let us sign off?

TBP:  That's right, the floor is yours.

OP:  All right here it goes, If the world gives you lemons then......aaaaaaaahhhhhhh   ssssssshhhhiitttt!!!

MF:  What happened?

TDP:  I set them on fire.

MF:  Oh shit let me get in on some of that.