It’s Chinatown. Again.

Posted on February 28, 2012


The day broke like any other, sunlight streaming in through my not-nearly-opaque-enough curtain and directly into my eyes.  I rummaged around, found some wearable clothing, ate a bagel, and hustled out the door.  And then…

There it was.  This lovely still life:

Detritus located on my porch. WHY?

And this bonus prize.

That’s right folks, here we have:  a small backpack, empty; two diapers, unused; a very well stocked first aid kit; baby wipes; a pair of socks; and everyone’s favourite product: Butt Paste.  On my porch!

For those who haven’t visited or stalked me, my porch is located far enough from the sidewalk that there’s no way in hell you’d just drop this alluring lot where I found it.  Forget it.  And the condition it’s in is too perfectly random to be planted.  I’ve decided that my friends didn’t set this up.  Naw… plenty of motive, yes, but no means really (I don’t know many people with babies, and none who used to have babies and need to get right of this crap), and if it was a plant it would be left differently, I think.

Granted, it might be someone’s very creepy way of letting me know that I’m a father, but I don’t think so.  Oh god no!

I think it’s the result of a street fight between babies.  Maybe a gang of babies rolled a defenceless baby for his soother and left him beaten up on my lawn.  He crawled away, leaving his goodies behind.  That’s the most likely explanation.  Chinatown, man.  Mean streets.  I see a couple of babies out there tonight I’m just gonna start stabbing fools, and let the cops sort it out.

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