assassin4

Hey!  I'm doing good-ish.  Sorry for the late reply (amazingly late ), but I do have a good reason.  You see, for the past few years I went on a trek across the globe in order to "find myself".  In the Himalayas, I met an old, blind, African monk named Akatuku.  He was very wise and a little strange.  He taught me many life lessons and brewed me a tea out of a strange herb.  Said tea made me hallucinate for 3 days.  I awoke in a village of strange people who were all naked, except for hats.  They had some sort of religious fascination with headgear and refused to wear anything else (sadly, none of them were very attractive).  After speaking to the village elder, I learned I was married to 3 women and a goat!  For some reason, the women were very jealous of the goat (I'm not exactly sure why, and was too afraid to ask).  I stayed for 2 weeks as a courtesy, and then ran as fast as I could out of there.  I proceeded to make my way to glorious Russia!  There I met a rather interesting man named Vladimir (he wouldn't give me a last name.  something about nuclear weapons and KGB looking for him.  I didn't pry), who was fishing with an AK-47.  We quickly became friends and proceeded to drink vodka for 6 days straight.  I believe he robbed me though, as when I awoke on the morning of the seventh day, he was gone and so was my money and my pants.  It was at this point in my journey that I decided it was time to return home but there was one small problem, I needed pants (and money, but the pants were the more pressing issue because it was COLD).  I happened into a small town near the border, where I got many strange looks from the locals, due to my missing legwear.  Luckily, I happened to come across a beautiful 24 year old woman named Anastasiya.  Anastasiya was kind enough to give me a pair of her pants to wear (they were tight, but they were still pants, so I wasn't complaining), and introduced me to her uncle Maxim, who was a pilot.  After he beat the crap out of me (a misunderstanding.  My russian is very shaky), he agreed to fly me home, so long as I gave him the location of that nudist village!  We arrived back in the States, and I was greeted at the airport by none other than the goat! (I have no idea how it got there, and again, too afraid to ask).  So I grabbed the goat, hopped in a taxi, and went home.  When I arrived home, I was greeted at the door by my mother, who promptly slapped me in the face, as I had forgotten to tell her I was leaving (oops).  And now, here we are .  It feels very good to be home, honestly, but I still don't know what to do with this goat .  How've you been by the way?