When I die, this is what I hope to see up in heavs: A merry black goat, perched on a hoof, lil’ knobby knees pointing at the sky, t-shirt gracefully covering his small, child-like tumtum, while the accordion music washes over me*, and the lush green grass cools the bottoms of my bare dead feet. It also helps that there’s meat on a string danglin’ from a tree.
*The accordian player, however, could be tinkered with. Liiiiiike Ewan McGregor… or another goat.
UPDATE: The people (person?) at toothpastefordinner are asking me to link back to their site, because apparently I’m supposed to be a dancing goat mindreader, and should have KNOWN they posted it even though someone sent it to me uncredited. So here you go.
