Wisdom From a Mountain-Goat
Sometimes it is good to get perspective from a direction you don't normally travel. This month, we will be getting advice, anecdotes and home spun wisdom from the noble North American Mountain Goat.

Greetings bipeds. I am Nosratofor The Stout. There are many things I have to tell you. First. Do not call me Goat. This is an insult of the highest order. Goats eat tin cans and are attractions at petting zoos. I am a Bighorn Sheep. Nobility where I come from. Sort of like your Army Rangers. So don't call me a goat.
You know what I find funny? These bicycle machines you call a mountain bike. I see fat man riding a bike on a paved trail. How is this a mountain bike then? Try sexing a ewe on the top of 1000 foot wall without losing my balance. And that is after ramming my head against other males for this right to sex them. Imagine having to make sex at Boston emergency room after Yankees defeat Red Sox on souvenir bat day. Must be the same thing.
And these players of your football games? This is a joke. If you want to discuss concussions, your hits are like paperbag popping. My hits are like hand grenade. Makes me wonder how your kind has become dominant species.
Oh advice? OK, live well, enjoy sunshine, take the time to look around and appreciate the small things. Yes. And of course make the sex, and smash opponents with your head.

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