A Stupid, Pointless Game Played by Top Shelf Douchebags

The last time my father hit me was on a golf course.

I was 30 and he was 64.

I was on a golf course doing what I do on a golf course – losing my collective shit because golf is the stupidest motherfucking game in the whole goddamn world. This includes curling, because in curling you just might see some Canadian milf wearing tight pants

So I hooked, sliced, whatever – let’s say fucked up a shot – and I said, “Fuck this shit. I’m going to the clubhouse and getting black out drunk.” And my father, who wanted golf to be a bonding thing for us, said, “Get back in the cart.”

And I said, “No fucking way.”

And then he punched me in the arm. He is a lefty and has a hell of a punch. I pretended it didn’t hurt. At this point, my two uncles rode up in the cart, they are my mother’s brothers who my father helped raise, and saw what was going on.

Tony, the younger one, said, “Um, I think you guys need to ride in different carts.”

My father said, “Fine, he can get out of this cart and walk, because in another minute I’m going to kick his ass.”

So now you know one of the many reasons why golf is a fucking absolute waste of time. Like Carlin said, “It’s the only sport where a white man can dress like a pimp.”

First, this is an expensive sport and it’s like you’re buying torture instruments. Carbon wrapped bullshit, big headed drivers, golf balls that go further (absolute horsheshit) – what a waste of money. Tiger Woods could play with a 50 year old set of clubs and mangle any course in the world – well, if he had a spare porn star or two stuffed in his bag.

Golf courses are huge wastes of land. I’d rather use them for motorcycle races or paintball matches. Hell, this would solve a huge problem here in Baltimore; maniacs who normally ride motorcycles on city streets, killing and injuring pedestrians, could take to the golf courses. Hopefully killing themselves in the process because they are fucking assholes.

This “sport” is played by snobs who belong to country clubs, which are bastions of egalitarianism, racism, and all around assholeishness. My sister’s wedding was held at a country club and we obliterated the color and race barrier – that place was packed with people who normally were the ones waiting tables, mowing the lawns, and putting up with tight ass WASPs with severe overbites. We fucking rocked the fuck out of that place. I barfed  on the putting green.

And watching golf on television could be almost as bad as getting your anus bleached at one of those cut rate anus bleaching salons, instead of a fully licensed and approved anus bleaching salon. Seriously, my neighbor watches golf all the time, and when I stop by, I can only hope someone in the crowd gets drilled by an errant shot.

Putting up with people who play golf can be taxing. Do you have a buddy who practices his swing as he stands there talking? Or his putting stance? Look dude, fuck you. Okay? You suck shit at golf, and your actions are irritating as fucking shit. I want to shove a broken putter all the way down your throat so that it comes out right above your spine.

However, the Golf Channel is the one thing I will acquiesce to because it provides very calming background noise. Also, they had some kind of reality show that was hilarious, because watching Type A personalities fuck shit up and then melt down is pure gold. Also, some of the babes on that show had rocking bodies and tits that would not quit.

Finally, when I was 13 I received a give away calendar featuring Jan Stephenson in a bunch of cheesecake poses. I wore that fucking thing OUT.

So, that’s it. Golf is a suckshit sport that I don’t care about. Unfortunately some of the people in my circle – it’s a small circle – of friends are interested in it. They know enough to not mention it around me because they don’t want to get cracked on the head with an empty bourbon bottle.

Good luck out there, you buncha dicksmacks.

Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.

Positive Shit That I Saw

At the annual neighborhood crab feast, I complained about the old people who live in the neighborhood. I did it quite loudly, in the early stages of bourble, and those septuagenarian fucks got all irritated.