Me again!Yes readers, thanks to our latest addition, we now present to you the second part of this week's Goat news. Here, again, we see the level of dear love that the world has for these creatures, wholly unrealised by the Poorhouse until this point.

Let's start with drunkenness. Alcohol mixed with goats is a dangerous game. So found Carl Myles, age should-know-better 20 who got drunk. The alcohol inebriation exerted its typical symptoms of lowering his inhibitions. Oh dear.

This meant when he stumbled upon Snowy, age unknown, species goat, he did not even try the classic "Do you come here often?". Rather he just bundled the large white furry mammal up and stuffed him into the back of a farmer's car he just stole.

Like a genius, he then accidentally rammed the farmer's car into the same farmer's tractor resulting, unsurprisingly, in being captured.

Tragically, the goat is now dead. The penalty for this goatslaughter (as well as car theft, drinking and driving et al.)? A mere £1400, bit of the old community service and a two year driving ban.

On the subject of dead goats and people who have been officially diagnosed with "immense stupidity", let's move on to Billy Hilton. Paris (the braindead, filthy yet hilarious erm..."celebrity"), known more for her love of violent little dogs named after fairies than goats, nonetheless has booked a spot at the uber-celeb graveyard known as West Wood Village Memorial Park. Billy Hilton, predictably enough, turns out to be a goat, and is now destined to forever lay next to Marilyn Monroe.

Locals, presumably human ones, are reportedly disgusted at Paris deciding to bury "just an old goat" in "one of the most prestigious cemeteries in the world". Whether they would be more upset at a celebrity goat or a non-celebrity human skeleton rotting away beneath their trophy deathyard is at this stage unknown.

Cemetery owners beware: Paris also owns two chihuahuas, a ferret and a monkey.

Who would have known the lust, envy and emotion the hitherto-lowly goat would induce?