Anguish, Chicken feet, Undecidedness
You will have to forgive me in my absence.
No, not a tooth problem, more of a mental breakdown of sorts.
After watching the much heralded Match and Bash last Wed. eve, I had to leave the country for some mental maintenance.
Can you imagine spending four and a half hours watching that 110 lb fellow known as GWARF go ball golfing.
If only he could tee up all of his shots (including putts) oohhhh the majesty.
The mosquitoe bites have healed and the mental anquish has subsided thanks to a healthy helping of steamed chicken feet and balute.
If I were the Elcapitain of the western contingency I would use this secret weapon they call GWARF by encouraging him to play slower and wonder how many shots he took aloud more often and take his undecidedness of club selection to stratospheric heights, thus surely sending the oppositions player into a mental mixmaster of disbelief, hate and infantilism.
If this does not intimidate those members of the OASBS, then maybe the thought of the ‘TOMCAT’ entering the lineup would surely make them quiver.
Just think, all of them standing naked, in a line, nary a testicle in sight, like frightened little boys.
I don’t think I had enough balute, bad thoughts, bad thoughts.
Until next time my fellow golf ballers
Sydney Hoselbender
Man about clown
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