Wednesday, January 7, 2009

I predict that in 2009

...I will face off with a billy goat.

...I will win.

...Defeated, he will either a) die on the battle field or b) ask me for a ride to the hospital.

...If he asks me for a ride to the hospital, I will lay him in the back of my Jetta, hit the gas, and then yell siren sounds out of the window loud as I can.

...Other animals will look up from their grazing to see us race by. They will think the distraction rude.

...When we reach the highway, the goat will ask me what all our fighting was about to begin with.

...I will shake my head. "You know, I really can't remember anymore."

...For the rest of the ride to the ER, we will laugh about life. About how silly animals are, their useless fighting, and how stupid we both looked with our machetes.

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