Monday, September 21, 2009

Of Material That Writes Itself



















My grandmother's new neighbors are in possession of two tiny, pygmy goats.

DONE. COMEDY ACCOMPLISHED.


Further images of pygmy goats:




















































Addendum:

My friend Joanne, who is deathly afraid of goats mind you, has asked the following:

"Why the fuck would anyone have goats at their house?"

Now I thought she was being rhetorical, but after a few minutes she added:

"So can you answer my question, please? 'cause I've been asking myself that for a while."

I replied that I am working under the assumption that they are kept outside, mostly, but Joanne was adamant that these are not things to keep in or around ones house. They are not cute or cuddly to her.

I'm more interested in what manner of person would breed pygmy goats.

I mean small things are more awesome than regular-sized same-things. I totally get that. Look at phones and watches and iPods and phones with iPods built into watches. I understand.

But goats? Who decided "Hmm, I want a goat but I wanna be able to keep in in my mailbox. YEEAAAHHH…."

Joanne and I then spent the next 10 minutes talking about corgis and why they're weird.

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