"It's All About to End..."-Scars On Broadway

"-One goat head lodged in your shoe can trigger a completely new infestation."

Wha?

That was a commercial on one of my radio stations for work.

Goat head…in my shoe…infestation?

I went back and listened again. Yep, that's what they said. I'm not sure how I get a goat head in my shoe without tramping obliviously through a satanic ritual, but OK. Maybe I'm too busy avoiding all the rams blood, I dunno.

"Excuse me, did I get your goat?"

"Stop him! He's stolen The Gruff!"

The whole experiences sounds gruff. Improbable too, I have a ritual-o-phobia. Gathering people here today to join in anything gives me goose head bumps. Now I have to worry about an infestation of goat heads? Or does one goat infest my head with goat herd? Stupid goats are harder to comb out than lice! What the hell?

Goat head infestation….

I tried to continue working but it was too late. They were chewing and braying at my mind.

Why do I have to worry about this?

"Meheheh!"

Fine! I pulled up Google and asked them why I need to worry about goat heads.

"Because Rob, Goat head is a toxic weed."

Bam! I've been smacked in the head with a Keanu Reeves brick, "No…Way!"

"Way."

You probably know all about this, but I didn't. Goat heads were new to me. Apparently the weed is a serious sheep scourge. Yep, sheep eat the weed; the weed poisons the sheep; Sheep goes to heaven. That's why you have to separate the sheep from the goat heads.

"Holy Cow!"

"Yep, it kills them too. Just not as plentifully."

"No…Way!"

"Way!"

I had no idea. I also found out that if you get one of these goat head things in your shoe it stabs you in the foot, and causes an itchy lesion.

"Itchy spot on my foot, what is your name?"

"I am lesion for we are rashy."

Yeah, sorry, apparently this goat head thing is worse than anyone imagined. The mere thought causes brain spurs. I now have something to fear. That's great. I know, you're probably out there going, "Rob, I can't believe you've never heard of this thing!" Either that or "Rob, I can't believe you're making me hear about this thing!"

I haven't, and I am. I am sorry though. I'm sheltered. Blame MyUnwife. I'm even worse now that she isn't around to shake things up. Sure say what you will, Lord knows I do, but with her around I had external input. Right now Rob is stagnating in his own juices.

Oh sure, I watch TV, but it doesn't watch back. I can't blame it, I'm not that exciting, but there's only so much Rob can flourish without an interchange of ideas.

MyUnwife added a strange balance to that. She drove to this fantasy land she called "the office." There she intermingled with other people and stuff. She told me characters like Dilbert are real there.

"No…Way!"

"Way."

Living with her was like having a foreign exchange student to poke and prod (so to speak). Now I live alone and can only poke and prod myself so often. I force myself to go out and mingle with foreign bodies, but strangers frown on the whole poke/prod activity. The best I can hope for is that they pass on idea weeds like goat heads that barb my skull and dangle over my ear like a spiky wind chime. It's these things that keep me from stagnating.

Living alone it's more effort, but I have to try. It's how I continue to grow and change.

"No…Way!"

"Way!"