Dear Guys Who Strung up a Goat on the Harry Caray Statue,

What a surprise I had when I woke up yesterday morning to see the nice gift you left for me on the statue of Harry Caray. I have to say, it was very, very clever of you to leave a sacrifice to your goat god in order to appease my anger over being left out of the 1945 World Series at Wrigley Field.

I do have a couple of concerns, though. I’m going to assume, for your benefit, that you purchased a goat head at a local butcher’s shop. I truly hope that you didn’t kill an innocent goat because you actually believe I have anything to do with the fact that your team has stunk worse than I do for the past sixty-three years.

If you actually did kill a goat as part of your very clever and elaborate practical joke, I have some bad news for you. You know that god you’re always praying to? Well, this is him:





If you think he looks pissed there, wait until he finds out that you hung his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson’s head from the arm of a statue of a dead guy. Maybe I can convince him that you were trying to end world hunger instead of trying to insure that your team manages to win just one playoff game. That might calm him down a little bit. Instead of skinning you alive in retribution, he may just skin the popped collared polo off you and hang you in the center field bleachers with an ironic can of Pabst Blue Ribbon shoved up your entitled ass.

Although I certainly appreciate your poorly-thought-out gesture, I have to say that I was a bit surprised at your choice of sacrifice. As you are probably aware, I am a billy goat. I have come to grips with the fact that your people have enslaved my species and harvested our milk and meat for years and years. I have long since given up on my campaign to free the Brookfield Zoo Seven. I don’t even mind that much when guys like Reed Johnson makes fun of our facial hair.

But why do you think that sacrificing a goat to me would appease me? You know what would have been a better gesture? This.





I could get behind something like this.

Or, if your insatiable bloodlust necessitates a ritualistic killing, how about slaughtering oh, I don’t know, a fucking MOUNTAIN LION?





Are you aware that those guys have been eating my people since long before your kind realized they should stop pooping on themselves, put some pants on, and make a spear? I assume you’re not man enough to pick on a mountain lion. You’d much rather prey on animals who won’t fight back, like goats and drunk chicks.

The next time you’re tempted to sacrifice something to me, please do both the goat and human populations a favor and go lay down in traffic.

With warmest regards,
Billy Goat Sianis

Cc: The Black Cat, Steve Bartman