Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Bleeding Our Souls and the Moroccan Goats of Damnation

Goats are generally accepted to be the worst blokes at the best of times.
When they aren't trying to eat an item of your clothing, they're kicking off about nothing in particular. Shouting nonsense and the like.

Unacceptable behaviour.

Well with this in mind consider the level of mischief that occurs when a legion of these hairy bastards joins up with the forces of darkness. Shit gets real. fast.
Fortunately for most of us (not Moroccans) the only place you can come face to face with these sentinels of farmyard crime is the island of Morocco.

They do all their sentinelling from up in trees. Apparently.

When we got word of these interesting evil goats, we decided to pay them a visit and exchange wisdom. Obviously we have much to impart, and as the only evil goats we have ever heard of we can only imagine they would have some hints and tips to increase our satanic efficiency two or maybe even three fold.
The journey took fifteen weeks by foot, canoe and paddle steamer and when we arrived in the valley of Kalak ta'un where the goats reside there was much rejoicing.

Pictured; Much Rejoicing

We managed to find the mysterious and oft smoke filled swamp that the evil Goats of Christmas Past inhabit and screamed some corrupted hymns into the sky to hopefully cast good fortune upon the upcoming meeting.



The goats were holding a secret meeting to discuss their next act of global terrorism underneath their historic Tree of Decision, we crept up so as not to spook them and attempted to introduce ourselves/put upon them just a slice of our three tiered cake of Satanic knowledge.

Unfortunately the goats were uppity fucks and decided that they knew more than us, they didn't even hang around to hear the end of our pre-written soliloquy.

We left feeling pretty miserable, fifteen weeks travel down the drain, countless monies from the bleedingoursouls hedge fund wasted, favours that could have been spent on painting national monuments black were unecessarily called in for nothing.
Fuck.
None of us had ever been swimming before, because evil satanic wizards are infamously hard to teach to swim because all they are interested in is casting spells and drinking blood. But many a mortal had said how much fun it is. So in this moment of real depression, we decided to have a go at swimming. To see if it'd cheer us up.

Nah, its shit.

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