Monday, April 24, 2006


Did you know that the sun can cause pain well after a round or two of golf? The temptations of a light breeze, freshly cut grass, some faint cigar smoke, and the (more then) occasional swear word make you forget things like sunblock for people with alabaster skin. Yes, for those “in” the inside joke… I look like a candy cane this morning, and it h-u-r-t-s, not peppermint lotion type hurt its more of a sandpaper-on-eyeball type sting.

The weather this weekend was a step beyond perfect, the mosquitoes have not invaded the deet-less, the humidity doesn’t fog up anyone’s glasses, and I’m not playing in 15 softball games in four days. A weekend to run around the metro, but yet relax at each stop.

Saturday started with a blustery nine holes at Shamrock golf course. My new driver failed to overcome my ineptitude of hitting the little white ball as people in Wisconsin and North Dakota ducked prematurely when I addressed the Top Flight Super-Ultra Mega Titanium Extra Spin #2 ball. No, I didn’t buy the ball, it was one I found while digging out my ball from under a huge pine on the fifth hole. Besides, I can find a better value at Taco Bell for the price of an object that will most likely end up on the bottom of a pond anyway.

Bogey golf was shot, and it was time to hit up the beer bust at J. Cousineau’s. Without having to be a parent for two hours I managed to get my drink on while destroying a Golden Tee game, until I shot a 6 over on one hole. At least I managed to slam a half dozen or so macro brews while molesting my wife's pregnant sized boobs. Yes, I was slapped.

I had to cut out of the beer bust a little early due to my ailing grandparent’s birthday party. After all, I wouldn’t have this blog if it wasn’t for their love of cards while we played for hours at my parent's cabin and them taking my hard earned dimes in games like 500, Pinochle, and Cribbage. Upon my semi-buzzed arrival, most of my uncles showed up with one question to me.

“When are you going to set up the poker game?”

Twist my arm.

I wasn’t really in the mood for playing tournament director, but live poker for me is a treat for me since I don’t get to play much beyond the virtual felt. Long story short, nine players tourney, $5, I took home more then half of pot. Yes, your hero managed to bust gramps as well, my karma is fucked for the next year or so. Best hand was busting my mom (the money went in on the flop).

Me: Q Q
Mom: K 5
Gramps: A J (GOLD!!!)

Board: K Q 3 6 K

After the second King hit the river, her first reaction was “YEAH!”, next two words were “OH SHIT!” followed by two hands going over her mouth after my grandma gave her a sarcastic stink eye. Vacation can’t get here soon enough to play the nightly games that are sure to go on in South Carolina, and I’m still hoping I can make it out to G-Vegas to donate to some of my favorite bloggers... and Otis too.

Sunday brought a less windy day, and more sun as me and Burnsie met up with a couple of his wife’s co-workers for a round at a newer course called The Vintage. George was an ex-Florida Gator football player and hit the ball like it said something nasty about his mother. Geno was afflicted with Polio and used crutches to move around and hit one handed while balancing on a crutch. I had never seen someone golf one-handed, but damn if he didn’t play better then most “able-bodied” players.

We all had an excellent time (not to mention my 11 over was the best 18 hole round I have had in a long time) as my body soaked in a few too many UV rays without noticing. Sunblock is for P-U-S-S-I-E-S and people who don’t appreciate the tingling sensation of a good sunburn. Yes, I’ll remember next time to use it as I gulp down my third 32 oz. jug of water this morning. Not to mention the cool Michael Jackson-esqe glove hand I have, apparently golf gloves do an EXCELLENT job of blocking those harmful sunrays as my left hand stayed the natural chalk-white color that I’m used to.

I wish I could report that I’ve broken my slump of bad sessions, but the beats go on, and I’ll keep trying till the poker gods deem my cards to be superior to another player’s. I’m still hoping for a good wave of variance to ride so I could eek into Vegas for the WPBT Summer Classic, but each passing week with break-even/losing play isn’t helping. I’ll try to suck less over the next couple of months so I can see my favorite bunch of degenerate gamblers in their natural habitat in July.

Thanks for dropping by, now who thinks the 2006 Twins are starting to look like the Metrodome-hugging World Champs of 1987 and 1991? I hope they can start scratching out a few road wins, because watching their starting pitching thus far on the road has been worst then sitting thru a Pauly Shore movie marathon.

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