Seriously, who in their right mind steals a fucking goat?
In my aunt's mind the answer is "Someone, I don't know who, but they're stealing my goats."
Once I stopped laughing at this dillusion and focused enough to cough and ask why she felt someone was stealing her goats, she'd already convinced me to go sit in the graveyard adjacent to her property and wait for the goat thieves.
Oh what the fuck, it might be fun.
So into the graveyard I went and hid behind a gravestone laughing to myself the entire time. I've come up with a bunch of ludicrous ideas in my time, but this one trumped all of them. Even I couldn't think up something this bat shit insane...
My 70 year old aunt sitting on a chaise lounge with a .12 gauge and me huddled behind a headstone waiting for someone to try and steal her goats.
You don't get much more redneck then that.
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