Blending in with Plaid  

moomonster77 40M
0 posts
8/30/2006 12:57 am
Blending in with Plaid

Breathe. Relax. Interlock your fingers. Bend the knees. Head down. Draw back slowly. Over the head. Exhale. Embrace gravity. Snap the wrists. Whack!!!

No. This is not how one should act inside the walls of a voting booth. The sacred booth. Civic duty. Well, that is not entirely true. Decisions about national policy should remain with those courageous souls who know how to properly handle the voting lever. Don’t squeeze too hard, or you are liable to strain your lower back. And drink.

Golf is one of the truly underappreciated, misunderstood activities off all time. Right up there with seagulls and antacids. God is fucking hysterical. Gives them flight, but not the ability to burp. Opps. Golf, though, is not a sport, though. Anything overweight, middle-class America-Europe-Japan can play on a weekly basis is not a sport. An important, and often overlooked fact.

The Lefties don’t understand golf. Clueless and dead wrong. Golf is not about exercise. Or Fun; Making friends; Ignoring wives and boyfriends. Telling dirty jokes. Or blowjobs in woods. Golf is about doing things that are unquestionably, Morally questionable. Ethically unsound. Nuts. And most importantly, ILLEGAL. A total break down of law and order. Without golf, Nixon would have stepped back, dropped his head and accepted impeachment with grace.

Golf courses are what churches used to be. Sanctuaries to engage in activities that take 2,000 years to come to light. And when we eventually learn what has been going on, we are shocked, Shocked, SHOCKED!!! No Father, Snickers bars are not a viable form of absolving sin.

George Carlin told me years ago that the total area of all the golf courses in America equalled two Rhode Islands and a Delaware. Well times have changed. With around 17,000 courses, Rhode Island, Connecticut and Western Massachusetts are now covered with fairways, bunkers and shitty short games. The people in Boston don’t seem worried. They don’t even know Western Massachusetts exists.

From Arnie and Jack to several members from the other colonies and through to the dark kid of today’s game ‒ well, he isn’t that dark. Worked for OJ all those years. Still is ‒ the game has exploded.

Wednesday afternoon golf outings were once the pride of American industry in the 1960s and 1970s as they ran manufacturing into the ground. Gordon Gecko’s decade followed with S & L, which is very close to S & M. The internet gang lead us into a brave new century. December 31, 2009 will officially conclude the Homeland Security decade.

But even the Gmen won’t conduct business on a golf course. Or levees. Watch out San Francisco. You’re next. Grab a front row seat.

Standing at the 17th green in Pine Hurst, North Carolina, the man offered me a Bud Lite and a pinch of Sckol. Southern Hospitality.

“I hope that foreigner doesn’t win. Where’s he from?”


“What about his playing parting?”

“A real foreigner. New Zealand.”

“Isn’t that near Iraq?”

“Close. France.”

Here he comes. The man with orange stripes. The crowd went mental. Much like the noise heard bi-weekly outside a Texas House of Electrocutions. Sorry. Typo. House of Corrections. Damn Microsoft thesaurus. The first armoured Tiger division surged forward and knocked me on my ass. I barely avoided a stampede of Phil Knight clones. Northern Hospitality.

Far safer on the local municipal course. Plus more fun. Any activity that involves a moving bar is special. They bring the drinks right to you. Friendly, too. The business of the world conducted in front of a 16 year old, high school junior with a developed chest. As said earlier, There is a god, and god is fucking hysterical.

The key is plaid. It is camouflage. Pinks, reds, oranges, violets. The more San Francisco, the better. No one would notice even if you jabbed needles into your eyes to inject heroin. You would simply blend into the Benjamin Franklin background. They didn’t change the bills just for security reasons.

Stash your drugs off the first hole, and no one will ever find them. There are golf balls just off the fairway from the Great Depression. Want to burry a body? Just behind the third green. It’s where Hoffa is.

Ratings are up. Attendance is up. Women. Hispanics. Blacks. Poor. All watch and play. Players earn 3.5 times what they did in 1996. Buy more clubs. OK. More balls. OK. More lessons, shirts, vacations, cigars, bullshit stories. The pope makes the handoff to the next runner in the relay …


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