I was sit'n here an' got to think'n....."damn it Billy Bob, ya hit two balls in da water". For the rules of "quick play", I marked down a 6 for a par 3....an' moved on to the next hole. Then I took my trusty 3 wood an' I'm gonna hit that ball 200 yards right down the fairway. A 75 yard walk an' I hit that ball again. Over there in the high grass rough. "No Billy Bob, that was a simple 3 foot putt...an' you missed it". Ya see what I'm get'n at here don't ya... I suck at golf ball swak'n.
But, not only did I have a wonderful time out there, I only cuss bout 14 or so times. That's not a record low number, but it's get'n closer to "no cuss'n". You would love play'n golf with the old Billy Bob. If for nuttin else, it would be for the laughs.
After that disgusting round of golf, me an' the OFM Barney heads to our usual Mexican food eat'um up place. I was hungry an' in need of a alka seltzer. Ok, we get us a waiter what don't speak the first word of English. I'm tell'n him I need a small empty glass so's I can take my alka seltzer....an' I order a "numero tres" for my choice of dinner at the same time. That confused him......Grrrrrrrr. He brings green instead of red salsa. The dinner was awesome...as usual.
Back at "da house", I had to take a couple aspirin an' lay down for a bit. Checked my feet....no swell'n. That was good news. Although they were sore. Maybe my new sandals don't fit right. Or maybe I'm at that point where I will be barefooted for the rest my life. Feet don't hurt barefooted.
Now that reminds me the time....I was just a 6 year old....rambunctious little heathern kid. I didn't wear no shoes. Run a hunnert mile a hour through the briar bushes an' sticker burrs. Them briar bushes was my hide out ya know. The older boys was always chas'n me to throw me in the creek or in with the pigs....beat me up, stuff like that. As long as I was within hear'n distance, all I had to do was holler "MOMS" an' she came to my rescue. But this day, I was alone with that old ugly dog out in the corn field. I was play'n Indian, throw'n corn stalk spears.....here come them big boys sneek'n up on me. Off to the briar bushes I go....a hunnert mile a hour ya know. There's snakes an' spiders in there, accord'n to the big boys, but I weren't skeered no snakes an' spiders. Well, if'n a spider get on me today, that skeer the hell out me. I spend the rest of the afternoon in them briar bushes.....holler'n "MOMS" at the top my lungs. Dang I miss them old days.
Nothing to say bout the Georgia trip today. My mind is eat up with "when ya gonna do your taxes Billy Bob"? I've got mine simplified down to one them E-file sites on the internet. All I have to do is input a few numbers, push a button, an' it's done.....till next year. Ok....where the hell is the numbers??? Grrrrrrr.....IRS sucks.
But, not only did I have a wonderful time out there, I only cuss bout 14 or so times. That's not a record low number, but it's get'n closer to "no cuss'n". You would love play'n golf with the old Billy Bob. If for nuttin else, it would be for the laughs.
After that disgusting round of golf, me an' the OFM Barney heads to our usual Mexican food eat'um up place. I was hungry an' in need of a alka seltzer. Ok, we get us a waiter what don't speak the first word of English. I'm tell'n him I need a small empty glass so's I can take my alka seltzer....an' I order a "numero tres" for my choice of dinner at the same time. That confused him......Grrrrrrrr. He brings green instead of red salsa. The dinner was awesome...as usual.
Back at "da house", I had to take a couple aspirin an' lay down for a bit. Checked my feet....no swell'n. That was good news. Although they were sore. Maybe my new sandals don't fit right. Or maybe I'm at that point where I will be barefooted for the rest my life. Feet don't hurt barefooted.
Now that reminds me the time....I was just a 6 year old....rambunctious little heathern kid. I didn't wear no shoes. Run a hunnert mile a hour through the briar bushes an' sticker burrs. Them briar bushes was my hide out ya know. The older boys was always chas'n me to throw me in the creek or in with the pigs....beat me up, stuff like that. As long as I was within hear'n distance, all I had to do was holler "MOMS" an' she came to my rescue. But this day, I was alone with that old ugly dog out in the corn field. I was play'n Indian, throw'n corn stalk spears.....here come them big boys sneek'n up on me. Off to the briar bushes I go....a hunnert mile a hour ya know. There's snakes an' spiders in there, accord'n to the big boys, but I weren't skeered no snakes an' spiders. Well, if'n a spider get on me today, that skeer the hell out me. I spend the rest of the afternoon in them briar bushes.....holler'n "MOMS" at the top my lungs. Dang I miss them old days.
Nothing to say bout the Georgia trip today. My mind is eat up with "when ya gonna do your taxes Billy Bob"? I've got mine simplified down to one them E-file sites on the internet. All I have to do is input a few numbers, push a button, an' it's done.....till next year. Ok....where the hell is the numbers??? Grrrrrrr.....IRS sucks.
hummmm I be the first to publish today. sounds like golf and mex food was good today. I had mex food tonight (taco bell) uumm good. no golf for me today, shinning up my old jeep, getting it ready for sale. she is Purdy as an big ol apple. did you find that golf ball you smoked off the tee box yesterday ??? love you ...
ReplyDeleteOk, darn it. Don't go thinking that just because we don't comment we aren't here reading. That is the Royal We, as I assume that I can speak for several folks who read and don't comment.
ReplyDeleteCommenting so you know I am here.
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