country baby

Hi there, my name is Philip and I live in Gaspereau Forks, New Brunswick alone in a seven-bedroom farmhouse in the middle of the woods with no phone or Internet. But guess what, about a ten-minute drive up the highway I found this place where I can use the Internet by, how do you say, stealing it.

So am I going to start writing on a blog again? Sitting here in my car by the side of the road? Dude. It’s fucking winter. Plus I’m thinking about some guy coming out of his house with a shotgun and yelling at me to get off his wireless. People around here are all nuts.

I just drove into the village of Chipman to get a few groceries. The guy sweeping the floor said, “Hey, wanna buy a baby?”

There was a baby lying on the conveyor belt beside the cash register. It had a cute little blue snowsuit on. I thought it was dead at first, all stretched out on this conveyor belt.

But I figured the girl on the cash probably wouldn’t be cooing over a dead baby, and so on closer examination, the kid in fact was only sleeping.

I said, “Hey, are those things priced by the pound?”

The baby woke up and looked around and made a “that’s not funny” face.

I was hoping they would turn on the conveyor belt and run the baby right over the scanner. Beep! Four-ninety-nine.

So anyway ladies, if you really want a baby of your own, but you can’t have one because you are inconceivable, by which I mean you are impregnable, possibly because you are inscrutable… there are babies on sale right now, at the Chipman general store.

I think I might stock up for the winter. Mmm, babies.