Well, it's not located in what you'd call "the city". Please allow me to paint you a picture.
A couple of weeks ago, I came back from lunch and almost hit a goat in the parking lot. What in the world?
Then two days later, that same goat was on the front porch of a girl that I graduated with; she lives a few miles away from my office. We made the connection because of similar rants on Facebook. Now, for the sake of full disclosure, we can't be positive that it was the same goat, but we thought the chances of two different goats taking leisurely strolls were pretty slim.
Then a couple days later, I was all like, "Who's the ASS in the parking lot?"
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, there was an actual living, breathing, braying donkey just outside my office window. It's kind of hard to impress a client while you're yelling over the sounds of "hee, haw, hee, haw".
Some people say they work with jackasses, but when I say it, I actually mean it.
|I named him Fred.|
That's not the actual donkey, by the way. I was too scared to get that close to it. I blame my college years. I interacted with my fair share of jackasses back then, and I've learned to stay far away, thank you very much. Otherwise, you'll be sitting alone in your car at 3AM, listening to John Micheal Montgomery ballads, eating raw cookie dough, and crying like you did during the series finale of 90210. You know, probably, just a guess.
Then on Friday, I was leaving the office and saw this.
Seriously people, please take better care of your farm animals or I'm gonna start an auction up in here.