Tiger's wife had to tell him to quit golfing to save their marriage. The whole point of the game is putting it in a lot of different holes.
After making a hole-in-one, the Japanese golfer turned to Tiger and asked, "Why are you shouting 'wrong hole, wrong hole' in Japanese?"
How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? Ask Al Gore and the Global Warmers. They top hits, "Let's do the Carbon Footprint" and "It's my Warming and I'll snow if I want to" seem to hold the answer when the records are played backward.
If I sneaked into you house in the middle of the night and increased the CO2 level by 6 ppm (parts per million, would a) you die in you sleep, b) the Department of Health and Hoax quarantine your house and burn it and the occupancies to the ground or c) Al Gore sent you a bill for $10 trillion of carbon credits?
Does that 7 billion tons of carbon put into the atmosphere scare you? Of course, big numbers scare everyone who doesn't take time to think. Our atmosphere is about 4.4 million billion tons. Now that is a scarier number than a Obama Stimulus Package. We should be more worried about the atmosphere crushing us than the much less than 1% of CO2 in that atmosphere.
Global Warming is a game of liars poker for a $10 trillion pot. I think that kind of money is enough motivation to explain deleting, hiding and rigging the climate data. The government health care bill is only $1.5 trillion and that is enough to get every Democrat and liberal in the country lying. In these cases, "better safe than sorry" and displaced compassion mean thousands of dollars out of you household budget. If you are living paycheck to paycheck, pick out a good spot on skid row now. Or buy my new book "10 Steps to Successful Armed Robbery." A free Saturday Night Special included with the first 100 orders.
Golf is the most boring sport invented by man (see Mayan hoop loop using still warm human heads for ball for most exciting.) Golf was immediately invented by man after the invention of marriage by women to have one lousy day a week without nagging. Five days a week, our job nags us. Sundays, God nags us. Seven nights a week, our wives nag us. For one glorious Saturday, we have a nag free zone at the golf course.
Saturday, you hop in the car, no kids to drop off at the government training camp, no stinking rush hour traffic, just quiet, our secret mistress, peace and quiet. Arriving at the golf club, you hunt for a parking space. No reserved parking here. All men are equal on this holy ground. Having anchored the family transport, you lugged the bag of clubs to the nearest cabby. With the grace of a famous couple who did old musicals, the cabby sweeps the golf bag from the ground and into the golf cart.
That joyous "being chaffered" feeling turns into a high blood pressure claymore mine when spot the four cackling hens roosting on the first tee. The caddy hands you a thermos of martini, steps from the cart and boldly approaches the women. "The rumor around the club house is that Morgan's daughter is going to start showing soon. The little shop down the road is having a clearance sale on knock-off wedding gifts that look like they came from Macy's. It even has 'I told you so' gift tags." As the women wiggle into their golf cart and race to the exit, you know why your caddy gets the big tips.
Now you can place, the tee in the ground and put that white, dimpled, tormenting bastard in place. With the flare and mystery of a shaman purging a straw hut village of evil sprites, the caddy reaches into your bag, puts a thin, metallic stick with a large head into your hand and points to a flag in the distance. This is moment. You address the ball as all those books you read on company called standing in next to the ball. You raise the club up and over your head in a "Kama Sutra" position without a partner. The ball arcs down. The ball arcs up. The sound of shattering windshield glass is drown out by the curious electronic noises of a car alarm.
"The bartender at the clubhouse is a friend of mine. She'll swear we've been there all morning," explains the always well tipped caddy. As the caddy navigates to the clubhouse on a course to assure no witnesses, you lean back, close your eyes and bathe in that one day a week without nagging.
Think about it. Golf and Scotch whiskey were invented by the same people.
P.S. As to that part of my life that pays almost enough for me to afford rent in the poor house. I an engaged in a corporate experiment to generate attrition. I've done a lot of varied work in my time and can tell when a team of random people have been put together to fail. We are told by the higher ups how important this project is. Yet, my sources tell me our customers do not want and even fear the product of our labors being forced on them.
Up until last week, I was curious why the company would assemble a bunch of people to fail. I just figured it was high level corporate politics out of the range of my sources. Then I heard the vacation plans or should I say the unplanning of vacations. People's vacation are being canceled. They are expected to eat the cost of airline tickets or other plans they have made. And the company vacation policy is take it or lose it. It can not be carried over to the next year. How many happy campers do you think this project is creating?
As for me? I got no money and no place to go. I told management, I would write code, fix bugs, generally help and do all the computer geek stuff I really don't mind doing and call it my vacation under one condition. "I will not attend any goddamn meetings!" My manager agreed, "Around here, not attending meeting is a vacation all by itself."
Computer geek joke: A code review is having other people explain to you the code you wrote.
In my continuing effort to explain my inane job to a normal person, I make lug nuts. I have a "go/no go" plastic dildo. If the lug nut meets the specifications, one will screw in, the other end will not. Then quality control calls up and says most of the lug nuts are blue but some are red. While I have no idea what is means, it will of course require a meeting of everyone.
At the meeting, our leader will explain, "American has many bridges. A lot of cars cross all those bridges. Those cars have wheels and those wheels have lug nuts. Motorcycles cross those same bridges. I don't own a motorcycle. So I don't know if they require lugs nuts. But you can see there are a lot bridges and even more cars." I get the same speech if I point out the toilet in the men's room is overflowing..
Actually, the reality is worse than the analogy.
P.P.S. Tiger Woods should be running for political office. Putting the sexual scandals ahead of the election to office would be novel change.
Tiger Woods is in trouble for going to bed with a bunch of blondes. The solution is to move to Sweden. Does anyone else see a minor flaw in this plan?
I read a blog that questioned how Tiger's wife had a golf club so handy. If she lived with a carpenter would he wonder why a hammer was handy? Plumber, wrench? Butcher, knife? Preacher, bible with flask of Bourbon?
P.P.P.S. Sunday Harry Ried and the Socialists will move the government health care bill to the next to the last of the decision points to end life as you knew it. This is where the Egyptians put your heart on one side of a balance scale and a feather on the other. We will lose
My
Tombstone
Will Read
No Where Man
"I told you so!"
? - ?
We have become a nation for fools who believe we can win at Three Card Monty because a shill in the crowd has bend the corner of the queen. There is no free lunch in this world. When you are told your are going to die but money can fix it. It is a con. They are lying. They just want your money.
Global warming, government health care, the government can spend enough money to make us all rich, these are fool's gold and we are the fools. Are we a nation of fools that have never been conned before or just a nation that never been conned.
I've been been conned maybe a total of $100 (and that was back when a dollar as worth something.) The last con, I even knew it was a con, was a little different. I had the weekend off from my incredibility entertaining job as a Marine to explore the highlights of Los Angeles. As a shaved bald, new Marine, I stood in a crowd of late 60's long hairs. As luck would have it, a long-hear befriended me and gave me a tour of the city. More accurately, the under bellow of the city. He showed me the hotels you could rent for a dollar a night. The rooms where you could rent a room and women by the hour. Yes, this tour guide showed much to a boy from Albuquerque, only two months in the Marine Corps and quickly learning there is more to this world than the rumors of children.
When night fell, he pulled out the con, "For $20 I can get you 100 record albums. You know. The ones the record companies give to radio stations for promotion." I gave him the $20 knowing it was a con because he didn't even know he'd earned it. He had spent the entire day showing me the side the city the Chamber of Commerce would not have shown me.
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