my love

I love him.




sorry guys. I really will figure out how to take sharper video.

...maybe I'll actually crack that instruction-manual-thingy.

get your goat

Cliches as amended by the girls*:

[*note: they have plain terrible mouths. I apologize. I will severely reprimand them for making all you sailors blush.]

1) "Is that a peanut in your pocket or am I just happy to see you?"

2) "The grass is always greener on the other side of the electric fence goddamnyou."

3) "She has gone on to better pastures. That lucky little - "

4) "Many hands make light - whoa who the hell is THAT? and that? Don't touch me. I don't know who you think you are..."



I wipe a tear from mine eye. Phew. I've been cracking up all day.

laughing?

Come on kids. They're funny.

Okay. Fine. I'll leave you to chew them over for a while...

they're certainly laughing... can't you see the hilarity abounding?

Come back soon for more frolicking good times at the Hi Island Goat Farm!

on the other

hand, how can one hate a place where - in the course of a single day - one sees fourteen rainbows and two (and a half) whales?

Perhaps, when I refer to Hawaii, I should temper my tongue a bit.

I do not hate Hawaii.

I merely resent it.

HA! take that rainbows!

blech

i hate hawaii.

i do.

i really do.

i just discovered a slug in my water glass.

the one i was drinking from.

i saw it inside the glass as i was pouring its contents into my mouth.

not nice.

don't try this

at home.

the 'self-sucker.'

She is bad. BAD! Naughty naughty goat.

This goat is particularly fond of self-sucking. So much so, in fact, that when she kidded a few days ago she took advantage of the pauses between contractions to have herself some little snacks.

Slurp slurp slurp.

da da DA!

On particularly fine days the goats are well nigh impossible to bring in from pasture for the evening milking. You have to haul them one by one into the barn - and once you get them there, there is no guaranteeing that that is where they will remain while you fetch in the next forty-eight.

Still all hope is not lost for this Sisyphian task.

I have discovered the perfect way to get them all indoors quickly and (relatively) painlessly. Just wander out behind them in a vain attempt at rounding them up and, while reaching for one of the girl's collars, trip over your own foot and crash to the ground all pinwheeling arms and flailing feet. You'll scare the bejeezus out of the goat you nearly fall on top of, and she - in her panicked dash for safety - will panic everyone else in turn. The ensuing rout will clear the field in a jiffy. Leaving you plenty of time to limp back to your trailer and change your pants (as they are now covered in soggy goat poo).


Fret for my integrity, friends. For I have learned that insidious lesson in which all tyrants have been schooled:

How to rule with fear.

BwaHaHaHaHaHaHaHa!

from the shower

I love these damn things.