I'll never forget the day my goatee came

I'll never forget the day my goatee came to life. You see, I'd found this top hot in a thrift store, and, on a whim, I'd stuck my goat in it and mumbled a quick prayer to Satan.

But a mouthful of sugar daddies messed up my mumbled prayer and I accidentally prayed to Zoroastor and my goatee exploded into a gigantic

pink beard made of cotton candy, and decorated with googly eyes. Some grayscale teenagers from mid previous century revved up and shined their headlights upon me, but I'm still

thinking about the my mother gave me tickets to Glastonbury Festival. It rained and my tent sunk into the mud but I didn't mind because I met the Chemical Brothers in the queue for

public lavatories. "Chemical Bros! You guyz are all techno and everything! Can I take your picture?" Moby tapped me on the back. "Can you move it? I gotta go." "Just wait." I said.

But Moby couldn't wait. (He was Moby Dick, after all.) He pushed me and my camera into the Chemical Brothers and there was quite a reaction.

The Chemical Brothers crystals fell and knocked over the fossils. Shards were flying everywhere! Moby Dick kept slamming into us. I frantically tried to save the last fossil and

put it my mouth. It was a cockroach fossil & reanimated in my gullet, the great great great great ancestor of OMG Delaney. Great Grandpappy Delaney crawled into my ear & whispered

"There is no such thing as a bad guitar, just bad players," Then he chuckled and gave a shrug of his insectoid shoulders, shook his head and walked away whistling a tune that was v

ery melodious. He had finally found nirvana.