For even more “sizzle,” instead of simply leading the goats out to graze as we usually did, I raced out in front of them, hollering an improvisational goat call that made me sound like a yodeling hillbilly. I turned back toward the barn and aw that the goats had stayed back, huddled together in fear in the barn doorway. They obviously preferred to skip dinner rather than get too close to the retard scarecrow suffering a grand mal seizure.

~The Bocolic Plauge, by Josh Kilmer-Purcell (2010), P. 214-215

Autore: Josh Kilmer-Purcell