There has been some dreary, foggy nights around the part of North Carolina where Monkeywhale Studios calls home.  One night I was scared to death by what I can only call a Ghost Cow.

I had been watching a movie with a lady friend of mine.  It was a normal evening, more or less.  There was a little bit of tension between us, the good kind of tension, and the movie was coming to an end (thank the blessed monkeywhale.  Who told me Forgetting Sarah Marshall was good?  Yeah, that’s right, I said it.  Not a fan.  Holy Cameron Crowe.  Mushy.  Thought it was a comedy).  I went out to the front porch to stand, not sit, as the entire city was covered in a wet fog.  A wet, bovine-spectre infused fog that rolled on and on as far as the eye could see.  I had a hard time riding my bicycle home that night.  Okay, you get it, it was dense.

So, I’m sitting out there minding my own business (more or less), and from out of the fog, about a block ahead of me, right there, from right out of the fog, there’s no one around, seriously no one, no cars or nothing, from right out of the fog through the moist silence :  mmmmOOOOOOOOO.

A freakin’ cow mooed.  But there was no cow.  There was nothing.  How could there be a cow?  I live in the city (more or less).  Thus, I have deduced that it must have been a Ghost Cow.

Perhaps this apparition was killed during a railroad tie move that occured on a night just like that night.  Yes, I’m sure of it now.  A truck carrying the before mentioned railroad ties must have ran over a poor cow it could not see due to the freakish winter fog.  There were cows around here back in the day.  That must be it.

So, World, if you or someone you know has any information regarding the Ghost Cow please let me know.  You can shoot me a fog free email at matty@monkeywhale.com.  Let’s get to the bottom of this, for our children’s sake.  I don’t have kids, but you might.  I know some kids.  Forgetting Sarah Marshall sucked.  But that’s just my opinion.