I know it’s late October and you all may think I’m writing about the dogmeat Cubs. But no, this is wildly more important.
I’m talking about Jacob Goedert. He doesn’t really do the Internet, but I know this will find him somehow, in some cosmic sense or perhaps just by word of mouth.
Long story short: one night Goat and I sat out on a backporch for like six or seven hours straight. It was mid-August and a thunderhead was looming on the horizon. This drove a debate between us, whether or not we would get a good storm or not.
It was a long afternoon. At one point, we were both pretending that we were ship captains.
But then at some point he started spouting some sort of poetry in an attempt to scare off the thunderstorm. I took the liberty of titling it:
You look at this,
You don’ wanna f’ck with that.
This motherf’cker’s holdin’ a sledgehammer,
You don’t f’ck with people holding sledgehammers
You got a f’ckin gun? Nobody gives a f’ck.
Lotta’ people got guns. Nobody has a sledge hammer.
Who the f’ck hits you with a sledge hammer?
And a morning cup of coffee?
Lightning storm? F’ck you lightning storm.
What the f’ck you got?
After this you got mad at me for recording you, but I bet you’re happy now.
You are my hero. Keep being you. Keep holding that sledgehammer.
Happy Birthday GOAT