See if you can follow me. I am watching a show in which professional antiquers cruise through a family’s home and look for items of value. The families in question always have a need or a goal for the money raised. This week, a husband and wife wish to buy a rather expensive goat. After the walkthrough, the pros compile a list of everything they feel is of value to antique hunters. Then they take those items to an auction, while the original owners stand on the sidelines and knaw at their knuckles to see if the estimates will be reached, exceeded or shitcanned.
I don’t believe this – After selling furniture, 2 paintings, a set of 3 barometers, a 200 year old grandfather clock, mugs and some dishes – these folks still need 190 pounds to get their goat. Now… How much would I need to pawn to get a goddamn life? I’m watching an antique reality show, afterall.
Once upon a time, when I was a wee lad, i think I was about 6, my neighbour had goats, but they were mean and used to chase me if I climbed in to the paddock. Once, when my neighbour was away, my daddy had to feed the goats and they were mean to him. One of them charged him and hit him. My brother was sitting on his shoulders and fell off and started crying. My brother is a wimp, I didn’t cry when he fell off, I was too fast and jumped over the fence. My daddy is strong and made the goat run away. I think goats are mean.
the end.
(true story)
The mean goats tend to be less expensive.
Sorry for the lack of a post today, folks. Blogger is messed up and I am powerless. I swear I will switch to WordPress soon. I swear.