Can you tell I hate golf? It needs a goalie. And full contact. And hecklers. And cheerleaders. More guys shaped like Jon Daly. Bullhorns, lots of those. Maybe some marine air horns, like they blast at hockey games. Extremely over-served guys with paint where their shirts should be. And play in sub zero weather. I mean Fahrenheit. None of this wussy degrees “C” either. I want golf in wind chills in negative number. And no gloves or hats so they really suffer. Those are the only conditions that pathetic pastime should be played. Then I might watch on television. Bloody hell.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Good Things for 01/28/2008
My reply to a friend that asked me to attend a work oriented, but yet social golf outing.
Can you tell I hate golf? It needs a goalie. And full contact. And hecklers. And cheerleaders. More guys shaped like Jon Daly. Bullhorns, lots of those. Maybe some marine air horns, like they blast at hockey games. Extremely over-served guys with paint where their shirts should be. And play in sub zero weather. I mean Fahrenheit. None of this wussy degrees “C” either. I want golf in wind chills in negative number. And no gloves or hats so they really suffer. Those are the only conditions that pathetic pastime should be played. Then I might watch on television. Bloody hell.
Can you tell I hate golf? It needs a goalie. And full contact. And hecklers. And cheerleaders. More guys shaped like Jon Daly. Bullhorns, lots of those. Maybe some marine air horns, like they blast at hockey games. Extremely over-served guys with paint where their shirts should be. And play in sub zero weather. I mean Fahrenheit. None of this wussy degrees “C” either. I want golf in wind chills in negative number. And no gloves or hats so they really suffer. Those are the only conditions that pathetic pastime should be played. Then I might watch on television. Bloody hell.
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