Anthony Scopatz

I think, therefore I amino acid.

Bondage, Rape, Assualt: Sheep.

Alright, I made it to the Bay Area.

There are so many things I have forgotten. But like muscle memory, I have snapped back into place. However, I have a new perspective on this place. It is like I am foreigner. Not a tourist, just a foreigner.

I used to say that if I was forced to live in a city, the city of my choosing would be San Fransisco. Coming back I realize that, sans weather, Austin is perfect.

OK ENOUGH! Time to stop blathering and get down to the story.

Now this story is the greatest story ever told, to me, yesterday.

I got to Berkeley last night at about 6 pm. Tommy and I went to the city to try to get into a club to see a band but the venue was small and wouldn’t have made it in. We eat dinner and come back to Berkeley and go to this bar called “Raleigh” I think and get drunk, as it seems I always do when I go to Berkeley.

At the bar Tommy met up with one of his coworkers named Brendan. So this guy is a friend of a friend kinda deal. Now his friend, Evan, was also there. And Even walks around with the greatest story I have ever heard, yesterday (Now keep in mind that I was in the car for 12 hours prior to that and listening to nothing but the Penn Jillete radio show podcasts, so I had heard a lot of good stories that day).

Evan is from Alabama though you wouldn’t know it. Now he would take his car to this one body and mechanic shop out there. Apparently all of the workers would make jokes and make fun of their boss, the owner about “having relations” with sheep. Now the owner is otherwise a regular guy. Wife and three kids sort of package deal. Finally, Even asked one day about the sheep jokes.

The shop owner took Evan in the back room of the shop and showed him these boots that he had welded together that were specially made to keep a sheep’s hind legs secure “so they can’t run away.”

If that isn’t bad enough for you, the owner went on to explain how to do the deed he liked taking the sheep out to the edge of a cliff to have his way with them. He would face the sheep out over the edge of the cliff and approach them from behind. This way the sheep would be too scared to run away and whenever they would get a glimpse over the edge they would frantically back up into his person. Apparently, this increased the pleasure.

I wonder if his wife ever let him on the boots and pretend she was livestock too.

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