EXCLUSIVE: The real reason I haven’t had my baby.
Dear People of the World,
It's me, April the pregnant giraffe.
It has come to my attention that, for quite some time now, you have all been watching my every movement, courtesy of the cameras that were installed in my home without my knowledge or consent.
I am not angry about this invasion of my privacy, I am just disappointed.
When it comes to human beings, I know to always expect the unexpected. For example, I can't remember the last time I went to eat some leaves from a tree without someone snapping a picture and yelling at me. This kind of catcalling or, giraffe calling is just offensive.
I heard that one of your most popular human teething devices is made in my image. That's a little disturbing, but I guess we all have our things.
In the immortal words of Mariah Carey, why you so obsessed with me?
Also, while we are asking hard hitting questions, what is up with your necks and tongues?! Why are they short and red respectively?! It seriously weirds me out.
Anyway, I got distracted.
So as you know, I'm pregnant. To my knowledge, you weren't there when I conceived (though I bet you tried, perverts) so how you figured out I was carrying a new life inside of me and not just very, very constipated from the popcorn, bubble gum, and other trash I sneak from the tourists, I do not know.
When I first learned that people around the globe were tuning in on their "computers" to watch me give birth, I was mad. What gives them the right? I brayed.
I would blame the hormones, but seriously, would you want a camera pointed at your snatch when your water breaks?
I think not.
So, yeah. I was pissed.
Until the first bale of hay arrived, courtesy of a fan. You see, I love hay. You know, I thought to myself consuming the entire thing in just one sitting (eating for two, etc), maybe this whole pregnancy camera deal isn't that bad!
The next day (and I have a hard time writing about this, and not just because I have no opposable thumbs) I received another gift from a fan: 400 pounds of mimosa tree leaves.
I'd swoon, but I worry about whiplash.
It's been like this weeks. I feast on a gift from a fan, preen for the camera, have a healthy BM, go to sleep, rinse wash repeat!
It got me to thinking ... what if I just keep on ... not having my baby?
Don't get me wrong, I am SO excited to welcome a new life into this world. But am I more excited about welcoming a new life into this world than I am about being supplied with my own weight in acacia leaves?
I'm honestly not sure.
It's not my fault. You made me this way. I would've been content just being a wife and a mother, but then these damned cameras came in and everything changed.
When I feel the contractions coming now, I just squeeze my legs together and think of the greenery, god, the delicious greenery.
I've noticed lately that people seem to be dropping off my livestream, and that I haven't been getting as many tributes from fans as I did in the early days.
So I'm shaking things up. I'm getting my spots lightened. I'm considering a neck job, too.
I never thought I'd go in for plastic surgery, but that's Hollywood, baby.
Speaking of babies, I'm even willing to let this sucker pop right out of the old uterus if that's what it takes to get my fan base back.
Just tell me what you want, my people. Tell me what it will take to keep my name in the headlines and the green rolling in.
April the Pregnant Giraffe
PS: Please send more leaves.