I'm So Great: The Rantings of a Jaded Youth

When I grow up, I want to be just like me.

My imaginary friend, Waffle February 23, 2010

In my experience, the internet is a wonderful place for finding anything you could ever want, need, or desperately long for.  It’s a world of unicorn necklaces, nerdy CDs, sparkle makeup, and clothing item that is blindingly bright and in my size.  All of those fabulous things pale in comparison, however, to the pygmy goat.  Pygmy goats are fluffy goats about the size of a bunny. When I saw a picture of one for the first time, I was immediately smitten. I wanted one– no! Ten! But my first one would be named Waffle and he would be the best goat ever.

All I wanted to do was move to Oregon, buy a farm, and raise a herd of pygmy goats.  Since that’s completely insane and unfeasible (I mean, I can’t image where the profit would be in raising a bunch of adorable pygmy goats, unless I opened the cutest petting zoo ever, in which case I’d need some more super cute animals.), I just pretended I already had my very own pygmy goat. “Come on, Waffle. We don’t need to take this crap. Let’s go for a tiny climb.” “I WOULD hang out with you but Waffle’s busy eating my shoes.”  Eventually all my friends joined in and, in Waffle, we all had our very own imaginary pygmy goat to stamp on things, take with us to our mundane jobs, and generally be adorable.

So this is a post in tribute to the best imaginary pet a girl could want. Have some cake, Waffle!  It’s made of everything in the fridge!


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