Add THAT to Your ToDo List and Smoke It

I hate ToDo lists. They may help you organize your life, but what's more depressing than looking at 147 chores that simply remind you of all the stuff you haven't accomplished yet? It's like getting bogged down in massive debt that you don't want to pay because it will take YEARS to climb out of that hole. So why bother?

That's why I've decided to just let the bank repossess my ToDo list.  HA! Let's see them try and unload THAT thing in today's ToDo list market. Plus, for the last six months, I've let the thing go because I just don't care any more. Rather than rewrite a fresh clean list after completing several items, I'll just scribble out "feed wombat" and add "blog about Olympic Gold Medal" and other ToDos until I have to staple pages together into an unwieldy mess.

And...I use a pen. A big fat leaky one.


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NGIP would like to thank Motherhood From the Edge of the Map for adding Nanny Goats In Panties to her blog roll. This gal seamlessly combines The Two Coreys and lobster sex into one post  which somehow manages to demonstrate how happily married she is. Well done!

Hey, while you're here, could you do me a solid and click on this link which will bump me up a bit in the Sacto Top 25 rankings? That's it, just one click, nothing else. Thanks, man.

Bugs: They're Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

We have a couple of Tarmac strips in our little town called Sacramento International Airport, although the "International" part of it may as well have quotes around it. OK, I guess there is a flight to Guadalajara now and again. Not that I have anything against Guadalajara - I mean, who doesn't want to order a drink whose Spanish name translates to Happy Buttocks? (These drinks are served at Los Famosos Equipales. But that's not why I called you here today.

I walk through this "international" airport a few times a month and the Starbucks had a serious fly problem. I apologize in advance for not taking a picture of the large poster made of flypaper, but I promise you, it was gross. But alas, it's gone.

Recently they installed these lights on the walls...

This coincided with the fact that there were no flies. Where could they be? I reached up with my camera and aimed down into the top of the light... 

For further enjoyment, you can click on the picture to enlarge.

Mmmmmm.  Kinda makes you want a Venti Mocha Flypachino about now, doesn't it?


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...And the answer to the trivia question the other day about where the Nanny Goats In Panties banner picture was taken:  Fremont, California. In Coyote Hills Park, near the San Francisco Bay.

Motorcycle Diary of a Madman

Those of you who arrived here by Googling "motorcycle panties" have come to the right place. Anybody landing here through the key phrase "billy goats in high heels", that's next door...wierdo.

Why are we so comfortable hindsight-quarterbacking bad behavior, feigning dismay and asking, "What were they thinking?", insisting that we would NEVER do such a thing, when in fact, we pull stupid crap all the time. It's just that we don't wind up maiming ourselves, or get caught on camera for the rest of the world to judge us afterwards, claiming that they would NEVER pull such a stunt and what were we thinking?

After announcing our infallability, we ostensibly sensible folk then jump on our motorcycles with our pants stretched halfway down our butts because it's cool. It shows off our panties and it impresses the ladies. And when we zoom by said ladies on the freeway we weave in and out of traffic to get their attention.

But then our balls get all sweaty, because our legs are hugging tight against hot leather seats in the desert sun. So our leader, Gerard, gets a little wind flappage going in his shorts and stretches his legs straight out like kickstands. We think Gerard has one-upped us showing off for the chicas, so we follow his lead and play around too, because - say it with me - - "It sounded like a good idea at the time."

Speaking of dumb-asses on motorcycles (oops did I type that out loud?)... have you seen this? Apparently, in India (hi Scratch Bags!), "Hands Free" means something else entirely:




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NGIP would like to thank Mojo over at Why? What Have You Heard? for adding Nanny Goats In Panties to his blog roll. Mojo is working toward "charming curmudgeon" status.

A Near Life Experience For Nanny Goats

When I started this blog in 2005 for two or three of you, I couldn't have cared less where I got my accompanying pictures. I'd just search on Google, grab something appropriate and insert it in my blog post, copyright be damned. Also, you were lucky if I posted something three or four times a month. Juvenile, uncultivated crap like, "Oh I went shopping today. It was fun. The End."

In 2008, when my readership soared to an audience of five or six, I figured I should think twice about plagarizing and only put up my own photos or get them from the public domain.

A few months ago, when I revamped my blog, I created the banner above from a picture that I stole found on the internet. It was from a website that was semi-public domain. The author's name was listed as A Aevtrd, or some such nonsense with a bunch of umlauts and Norwegian-looking bits dangling over the letters like left-over mouse droppings. The site said I could use the pictures for my blog and edit them as long as I didn't make money off it. And I had to attribute the author and follow his rules. Well this goat picture didn't have any rules.

Or so I thought.

Meanwhile, my readship continued to grow and I grew to LOVE the banner. LOVE it. I wanted to marry it.

Anyway, the other day, I went back to the original site where I found my little goats and this time I noticed a link for the author's Flickr account. Uh oh. And he wasn't Norwegian. He was American. With an American (well, Irish, if you want to put too fine a point on it) name and everything.

Oh my God! What do I do? "Oh, sorry sir, for destroying your picture for my purposes for the last few months but is it OK that I used your picture and continue to do so?" What if, after receiving my sorry-ass plea, he went to my blog and was mortified at the desecration of his art? And I hadn't asked permission! What if he pressed charges? What if he - GASP! - had me arrested and sent to (OH NO!) Blogger jail!

Have you ever been to Blogger jail? Oh My God, it's absolutely horrifying! First, the Blog Police come to your house in the middle of the night and rip you out of the arms of your loved ones. They strip search your hard drive and confiscate your IP address. They slap handcuffs on you and throw you in the Blog police car and threaten your domain name as they speed down the information super highway to the station.

The next thing you know you're sharing a cell with a bald-headed thug named TurdBot108 who's in for Googling Weenie Man song lyrics. And he hogs all the toilet paper. I'd be forced to eat porridge and fold standard issue laundry with my fellow prisoners: web stats whores and content thieves.

I agonized over whether or not to contact this guy. Maybe he would never find out. But if he did, and not from me, I could be put away for life! I resigned myself to doing the right thing and sent the photographer an email begging for forgiveness, offering my first born child, anything. I HAD to have my goat banner. Nanny Goats In Panties just isn't Nanny Goats In Panties without it.

As I clicked SEND at 12:30am, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep all night, wondering if, when, and how he would answer. I imagined a vitriolic response, hurling spam and threatening to expose my HTML. He would flame my ass and the goat I rode in on. He would tear down my firewall, leaving behind a pitiful pile of rubble.

I sobbed. I prayed to the internet gods. "Please!" I cried. "Have mercy on a smalltime blogger like me! I'm nothing! Oh, boo hoo!"

Five minutes later I got a response:  "Sure," he said. "No problem."

Woo Hoo!

I would like to kiss the feet (proverbially, of course) of Kevin Collins for betstowing his kindness and downright upstandingness unto Nanny Goats. He is a wonderful photographer - you can catch his stuff on his Flickr page here.

TRIVIA QUESTION: Without cheating, can you guess where the Nanny Goats In Panties banner picture was taken? I'll let you know the answer in the next blog post.


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Nanny Goats In Panties is now listed on Alltop.com under the Humor and Midlife categories. They "help you explore your passions by collecting stories from 'all the top' sites on the web."


NGIP would like to profusely thank the following fellow bloggers for adding Nanny Goats In Panties to their blogroll:

Olga The Traveling Bra - keeping the world abreast of all her traveling adventures.

Feisty Charlie - A shit-kickin' writer from Texas whose birthday falls two days before mine. Yesterday was her birthday, it's not too late to send her good wishes!

Los Cuatro Ojos - where some days you're the dog and some days you're the hydrant.

Musings - A lovely young couple from Paso Robles, California - hey, my great (or is it great-great?) grandmother is buried at the Old Adobe Chruch in Paso Robles!

Honeywine - A ghetto-trailer (her words, not mine) woman working on her PhD. I should apologize to Anna right now for all references I have made and will undoubtedly continue to make about trailer trash.

Laughing Wolf - Author Dave "holds the distinction of looking like Uncle Fester (or a shaved Panda)". Dave also had a birthday this week, so go throw some cake at him too.

Shoes White People Like

Folsom, California is one of those suburbs that seem to be made up of white, SUV-driving, stay-at-home, soccer moms. Rumor has it the city council tried to change the town's name to Stepford. And when the editors at Stuff White People Like look for material, they infiltrate Folsom and take notes.

Now, Folsom isn't racist or anything. They think everyone should have a black friend or two.

While cruising the outlet mall in Folsom today, shopping for shoes, I came across this:

It was the only pair in the store.


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We close today with a few search terms recently used by wierdos to get to Nanny Goats In Panties:

where to buy contraband fireworks on the web no questions asked
i have goats in my pants
panties obama
i know a weeny man
weenie man music
can goats poop out cans


Oh, and just one more thing, as Columbo would say: Thank You to William over at Dead Rooster for adding NGIP to his blog roll.