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Since the dawn of time, goats have been thriving like the
sperm on an ejaculation-splattered waffle cone on Earth. If one was to pinpoint the exact emergence of yonder goat, a respected
palaeontologist might put them at 69 AD, but this is only a rudimentary guesstimate (and who trusts anyone named Horatio Wanksalot?).
Goats emerged from the primordial sludge of prehistory with a single objective in their narrow, one-track minds: to eat grass.
Over the ensuing years, goats have developed along an independent evolutionary niche where sex, fighting, and saying eulogies
for beared prostitutes can be incorporated into their daily routines, providing that grass is always in their nearby vicinity
(this includes alcohol and waffle cones). Goats are by nature, gregariously nocturnal that is, they only attack people at
night. One dignified researcher named Macedonian Penusenlarja (said Pe-nes-in-larg-ar) has been attempting to disprove such
a common theory; the only thing that even remotely justifies this bold disapproval is the fact that he has a bit of goat horn
embedded into his testicles. To quote Phenusenlarja, "Goats were born of this world to...AARGH! It fucking bit me on the leg!!"
One can certainly observe his prospects at receiving this year's Nobel Prize for Goat-Hating. During recent years
goats have taken a primary seat in Politics: for the past 5 years Australia has been run by a transvestite Ugandian Red Spitting
Goat. However this inconspicuous ranting homosexual goat's real name is Queen Poopsie WaffleNose. Goats also interact
in a range of bloodcurdling, yet peculiar fashions. During the 2000 Sydney Olympics, numerous goats could be seen gnawing
the official's ankles. Due to acts of the invading Nazi type goats, a new primitive Hybrid has been found?known as the year
12 students of St Laurence's College Brisbane. Goats have managed to establish their own prominence in the working world:
no longer does one see a goat relaxing on a beach with a name like Cococabana, with a frosted glass of dubious pink alcohol
clenched between a hoof, with a name like Screwdriver or Bloody Mary. No longer! Goats have gone independent?Now is the time
that we must recognize the Goat Lib. for what it is! Goats are the most *intelligent* animals on the planet! When they nip
you at the petting zoo that's no accident, that's an attack! They are invading! Your time is *NOW*! We must crush these evil,
megalomaniac, diabolical creatures, before their numbers increase, and they rise up against civil human domination, and decide
to sink their Billy Bob Thornton teeth into the future of existence! Friends, Romans, countryman! Lend me your ears! Grab
the nearest semi automatic and go play Russian Roulette with your closest living goat! Go out into the world and kill those
evil ungulate bastards, until their teats bleed purple (and if you don't like that image, well make sure you shoot off its
teats, then!). Ever since the rise of humanity, goats have sat in their little pastures, chewing the cud, and devising our
downfall! That's right! They might even be in league with the cows! So when you go out rebelliously cow-pushing, and the reaction
that this warrants gains a simple groan, and a thud as the cow suddenly becomes ground beef! Just you remember, dear
pitiful humans, that it is scheming to overthrow humankind's shackles all the way to the canned meat factory! The goat is
back as a species, and it's baaaad to the bone! But then again, we're rubbing our faces in cocaine.
Written by Diamond
Crotch and Cursed to Eat Adorable kittens while they scream histerically as they burn to death in molten hot liquid sucrose.
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