So as the dust settles on the end of another year I have finally decided to write down the New Years Eve celebration from last year. So I am in Nigeria and I have suddenly become tired of the whole scene. Getting over Malaria and the constant partying (even now this sounds stupid, I’m young I should be going out every night. To be honest I think I was just shattered from the whole year.) Anyway I get back from boat club which was literally like the O.C. Isn’t it strange that on weird nights you meet people you wouldn’t expect I met some guys I went to Kings with which was about ten years earlier. Bearing in mind that I have a terrible memory, it was about 5 minutes of uncomfortable shuffling and trying to remember people, I wandered off. Anyway so I get home, I’m in the pool, glass of Hennessey, non specific music playing on the Ipod. Living the life, seriously I was almost as if I ripped out a page of the Scarface script and decided to be Tony Montana for a moment. I’m trying to clear my head, to be honest at that moment you just tend to drift off to various states. I went through three stages vividly; the first was a state of panic. “Will I drown? Stop thinking of drowning! Aren’t you too old to be worrying about drowning? Maybe but I have been drinking all night.” The second one was an epiphany; I seriously need to retire early because I know how to relax. Maybe 47, I shall travel the world with my wife and share just how good doing nothing in the pool is. The third state is a state that can only be described as a happy state. That fictional place that you are supposed to try and envisage when you are unhappy or stressed or depressed or angry or feeling mischievous. For me it’s somewhere between sleep and day dreaming where my mind is in a mixture of places but nowhere at the same time. Where concentrating is just too much effort and doing blah was great, seriously try it sometime. So whilst drifting through those three states I was interrupted by the sight of three guards chasing a goat. The goat was apparently tried up but the bugger must have been scared from the fireworks. Now goats are an odd creature, especially this one. Not cute enough to be really involved in any barnyard tales just slightly off to the side. So the goat is doing what all animals excel at being a complete arse. Running then stopping, ducking then diving, thinking that he is Alonso and trying to out manoeuvre the guards. Trapped in the corner the guards decide to do the classic thing of squeezing the animal via all sides. Then the goat suddenly changes it running style, a style quite similar to all women who run funny. All women run funny, apart from joggers. I hate joggers, I am a pretty liberal guy but I hate joggers. I digress the goat bucks to one side and then the other and suddenly starts heading towards the pool. At this point I stop laughing horrendously and realise that a goat is heading towards me whilst I am in a pool, drunk on New Year’s Eve. I figure I will never ever top that moment of sheer bewilderment and pure comedy. I guess I needed to write it down. Maybe you ought to have been there.