So, I have actually had a very similar situation. I live in rural Georgia, USA near timber property that occasionally folks have been known to ride ATVs and dirt bikes. So, one afternoon I hear screaming like someone had wrecked in the woods and fucked themselves up pretty good. I pull my ATC 250R out, kick it over and take off for the pines. I ride all over the property, stopping often, still hear screaming. This goes on for probably 30 or 45 minutes till I get to the far end and stop again and there's the screaming, except...it ends in a totally recognizable goat warbling.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I was sure I was going to find some guy wrapped up around one of the loblollies with a busted leg or some shit. No. I had been punked by a goat in a field close to half of a mile from my house. Sure is funny the way sounds travel in the woods. I had only lived there for maybe a year or two. That was just one lesson about country living I've learned in the last 10 years.
At work we have 2 CNC machines that run from windows 7 computers and 1 that runs off of XP. If we lost a hard drive on any of those it would brick the machine
Abortion is a medical matter and none of the government's fucking business. Their only arguments are religion based and therefore have no business in government consideration, but these fascists have forgotten their place as 'public servants' and have decided to just roll on like their little insurrection had worked. It's really hard to not say anything to get put on a watch list.
So, I have actually had a very similar situation. I live in rural Georgia, USA near timber property that occasionally folks have been known to ride ATVs and dirt bikes. So, one afternoon I hear screaming like someone had wrecked in the woods and fucked themselves up pretty good. I pull my ATC 250R out, kick it over and take off for the pines. I ride all over the property, stopping often, still hear screaming. This goes on for probably 30 or 45 minutes till I get to the far end and stop again and there's the screaming, except...it ends in a totally recognizable goat warbling. Son. Of. A. Bitch. I was sure I was going to find some guy wrapped up around one of the loblollies with a busted leg or some shit. No. I had been punked by a goat in a field close to half of a mile from my house. Sure is funny the way sounds travel in the woods. I had only lived there for maybe a year or two. That was just one lesson about country living I've learned in the last 10 years.