The four inch tall goats frolicking on top of my fridge keep tugging on my bills every time I think maybe I should visit a doctor. It’s been five days since my temperature was under 100. According to The Walking Dead, I’m overdue to start craving the taste of delicious brains. I’ve thought about it, but honestly, any food makes me want to vomit up the nonexistant contents of my stomach. Thank goodness I’m hallucinating goats instead of dogs. They say goats will eat anything, but dogs have a disquieting and disgusting fondness for the taste of vomit. Unless I…









