for a rainy day

Goats Scream When You Murder Them

Did you know that goats scream when you murder them? Because I can tell you that they most certainly do.

So I was in Kenya. That’s probably how this story should have started, but I got distracted by the murdered goats. So I was in Kenya. Every evening these guys from a local tribe would come hang out at the community home we were staying at. One night they brought a bunch of handmade swords for us American tourists to buy. I really wanted one because I needed a gift for my brother-in-law and a sword is the coolest gift possibly ever, There’s probably a study on that somewhere.
sweater v sword

So I asked if there were any left and the guy was like “No, but you can have my personal one” and I was like “That is the greatest answer ever!” So he gave me the sword…and then he came back and asked “Can I use it really quick?” and I said “Of course friend, how could this possibly be a bad decision? Here you go!”

…and then I saw the goat…

That night our friends from the tribe were going to make us dinner. I didn’t know that when I was looking at the two cute little goats. In my innocence I named them Peter and Estaban. They were adorable.

And then the evening swiftly fell apart.

Now, if somebody ever asks you if you would like to watch a goat sacrifice, might I suggest that you decline that offer. I wish somebody had been there with that sage wisdom for me, but alas I learn my lessons the hard way.
I thought, “Hey, I’m in Africa. When will I ever have this ‘opportunity’ again?” And so I joined the group.

Sidenote: do you remember in Jurassic Park when they put that goat out and you were horrified because you knew that the T-Rex is coming to get it, and you think “What kind of monster would do that to that sweet little goat?” In this story I am the T-Rex.

So I braced as best as I could and let me tell you, IT DID NOT HELP!!!

Because as I said at the beginning of this tale GOATS SCREAM WHEN YOU KILL THEM!
And no matter how you try, you can never unhear it.
And just like a trainwreck I couldn’t look away. Here, you can see the damage happening:
247007_10150198135887879_4159931_n248550_10150198135987879_5418306_n248505_10150198136112879_7300875_n252880_10150198136132879_5260092_n247378_10150198136212879_1792741_n

You know how when you go to McDonald’s they don’t have you first catch the chicken and then cut it’s head off? Yeah, there’s a reason for that. And yet that night I had to eat Estaban for dinner. I wish I could tell you it was all worth it, but goat tastes truly terrible.

The moral of this story? I don’t know…don’t sacrifice woodland creatures? That seems like sort of an obvious one. How about don’t play with swords? That’s like the grown-up equivalent of don’t run with scissors. Nope, the moral is don’t ever eat goat. It tastes terrible and they look into your soul before it all plays out and nobody wants that.

They handed me back my sword in the sheath, still covered in Estaban. It was awful. I didn’t clean it, I gave it to my brother-in-law just as it was because it’s the authenticity that makes gifts fun. You’re welcome!
men-who-stare-goats-o
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This entry was published on April 21, 2015 at 10:08 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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