The Escape Goat Questions Her Mortality

Yesterday the Escape Goat learned a very important lesson: With the decay of youth comes the onslaught of mortality. Indeed, being born young and aging is a big Fuck-You. Why can't we be born really old, and get younger until we just disintegrate into an embryonic state? I think that would be more preferable. What was the catalyst for this epiphany? The Escape Goat grew her first gray hair. Wedged between Raymond Carver's disembodied head and a toad, the culprit is featured below:




To compensate for the Escape Goat's sordid revelation, the Mayor of Moneytown and I escorted her out to the park for a delicious lunch in the sun. We thought she just needed some light on her receptors to turn that frown upside down, but she is still reeling from yesterday's realizations! Dear brave Escape Goat! However, happiness ensued when she produced some ultra-hip shades and all was right in the world:



To cheer her up I let her take some pictures:




And this...