Candy Not for Goats

There’s a place in Pigeon Forge,TN (where we are this week), a magical place, where once, a long time ago, someone said, “We have a bunch goats, maybe people will come look at them.”

Then, someone else said, “But how do you make money off of that? Nobody is going to pay to just come pet some goats.”

“No, they don’t get to pet them.”

“Ok. Are they mean or diseased goats? Are people paying to not have to touch them?”

“No, we’re going to put them on the roof of a building and then inside that building we will sell stuff. And, if people want, they can buy food for the goats, perform manual labor in the blazing sun, and send the food up to the goats. We’ll also build a roller coaster thing and people can pay for buckets of sand with rocks in them, we’ll call it ‘gem mining.'”

“Sure, why not.”

And thus, Goats on the Roof was born.

The goats can have all the goat food and ice cream cones (without ice cream, that’s what they put the goat food in to send it up) they want, but there is one rule:

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Personally, I would have underlined the word “not,” but I’m not an Expert, so what do I know. I took it to mean only the Skittles and sent five bucks worth of gum up to them.

Before you get your hopes up, the video below is not of me sending a bunch of gum up to the goats. It’s basically showing you slides from my vacation but there’s thousands of them and audio.


Shmecious Schmemories

A few months ago I ran across some daily vlogs while trying to get a visual fix for my Disney World obsession. After a while  I found watching peoples’ daily lives fascinating after first thinking, “what a weird thing to like to do.”

I started to think about how nice it must be to have all of those memories and outings and conversations in nice little edited bite sized nuggets, and how I had thousands of photos and videos I hadn’t done anything with. Then I thought about how we need new porch furniture cushions and and wondered if we were running low on cheese. That reminded me that my attention span is woefully non-existent these days which isn’t helping the writer’s block issues.

And after that and a lot of tortilla chips, I began to wonder, if I started a vlog on YouTube, would that be enough of an “outside” influence for me to stay on top of videos and creating things the kids may like to see when they’re older instead of the total lack of “inside” motivation I have to do it without anyone else seeing it.


But I’ve done the first few days. I see this also as a challenge to myself. I don’t like the sound of my voice and I get down on myself about a lot of things. I care too much what other people think and I don’t take risks because I can be shy and scared. I see this as throwing myself into the deep end but still within the pool of what I would consider my comfort zone. That was a terrible sentence.

Anyway, below are my first four daily vlogs. If you’re a YouTube person, you can subscribe and comment at the actual video. You can go here to my channel to subscribe (I think the button is to the right below the picture of Jenkins). If not, I’ll probably collect some and put them in a post every once in a while.

It’s been a very good thing to keep my brain busy and the gears in there moving, but not so daunting that I just shut down and don’t do anything (like writing these days). And I’ve thought of a couple of things I could write here now that those gears are creakily turning and churning.

P.S. I can’t for the life of me come up with a name for the channel. I don’t want to use Cannibalistic Nerd because it doesn’t really reflect the content so far. Kremlock is complete gibberish so I’m not sure that works, either. It’s a placeholder, but for what? FOR WHAT?

This post was hastily written during a race against time while Lydia napped. All typos and terrible turns of phrase must be submitted for fear of waking baby.

A literal tumbleweed

It’s been four months since I posted anything. You guys, I have on average about 2 hours during the day when Lydia is asleep to do anything. That is usually spent doing nothing because chasing around a toddler is kind of tiring. Then, in the evening, I have to catch up on my TV. Plus, I have a bit of the writer’s block and anything I think I may want to write about then requires the time to write it.

What am I to do? Not watch TV? Are you insane? If not me, who will roll their eyes at the poor decision making of Rick Grimes? Everyone else? Ok, bad example.

I’m thinking about starting a vlog. I think I’m under the complete misconception that this will be easier than writing everything out if I have something I want to comment on (and I’m not kidding, it will probably be mostly me complaining about baby toys and children’s books as that is almost all I do now). And then some (most) of it will probably be mundane footage of my daily life which mainly involves grocery shopping, constant trips to bouncy house facilities, and watching my kid jump on a mini trampoline (See? It’s already redundant just listing things).

I don’t even know if there’s anyone still out there and if they are if they would at all be interested in watching said thing. Leave me a comment if you are. I may do it anyway simply because I have no memory for much of anything anymore and I can just transfer memory-related duties to a computer, just like they want us to.

My Personal Haunted House

There's also a strict dress code: dress, spanx, and high heels.

There’s also a strict dress code: dress, spanx, and high heels.

It begins by having to drive myself there without a GPS. I’m already screaming and crying and I haven’t even arrived, yet!

I finally pull up, tired and afraid because I don’t know how to get back home. I then have to pay to gain admission to be frightened.

The house is pretty generic save for the yard littered with political signs. On my way in a man introduces himself as my neighbor and tells me a story about how he accidentally ran over his own dog. Shudder.

In the entryway, it is quite warm in the house and I have my coat on. I’d like to take it off but I’m not sure where to leave it. There’s no hooks or coat hangers anywhere. So, I keep it on.

The arrows on the floor lead me to the kitchen. There’s a nice old lady there who’s told me she’s making me a delicious meal, but it’s pork chops, so I have to explain to her that I don’t eat pork. The horror.

A sign near the kitchen door says I should use the bathroom now since I won’t get the chance to later. I find my way to the bathroom. There’s a horrible stench so that I can worry that the next person that uses the bathroom thinks I made it. There’s no toilet paper and then the toilet overflows when I flush it. It’s like they know my every fear and thought.

I’m guided to a bedroom. I have to take a nap while a baby naps. I’m given a monitor and told that I have to get up and help the baby if it cries. Considering I can barely sleep soundly anyway, I reach a half-sleep state and then am inundated with phantom baby cries. Every time I check the video monitor the baby is sleeping soundly. The stuff of nightmares.

I’m instructed to go to the den. There, I find nice comfortable sofas, and on them is the previous nice old lady and a teenage boy. We all have to watch HBO dramas and Basic Instinct together. NOOOOOOOOO!

After hours of this torture. I’m told I can leave, but only if I make up a fun rap about myself and get up in front of all the haunted house employees and enthusiastically recite it. After I do that, and give everyone a nice long hug, I can make my way to my car, which has a flat tire.

I somehow get my tire changed and get in my car. I sense a presence with me and turn around ARGGGGHHHHHHHAAAAAHHH! In the backseat is a blender that I have to pack and ship to someone as a favor.

I leave permanently scarred but very impressed with the specificity and thought that was put into it.

What would be in your ultimate haunted house experience?