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Miracle my ass

I’ve web-logged before about how out of sorts I get when I try and eat lunch and play golf at the same time. Well I found myself in that situation again yesterday.

The cart girl only had one sandwich left when she came around on the 12th hole. I split it with this guy in the foursome. He was an older gentleman and I think he was having problems with his circulation. I felt a little sorry for him, so I just ripped the sandwich in two—with my bare hands—and handed him half.

It was a turkey sandwich on whole wheat. Everything went well until I tried to put Miracle Whip on my half while walking down the fairway pulling my little golf cart. I thought I did a good job, but then I looked down. There was Miracle Whip splattered on everything. It looked like we’d had a party on the 12th tee box and everybody…

It was on my glove and my shoe. There was a big smear on my golf bag, right on the pocket where I keep my worry stones and nose drops. Damn, that up set me. My hand was all slick from the grease, too, and I couldn’t grip the club properly.

Worst of all I got some on my Brooks Brothers golf shirt. Those of you who know Puff Diaper know that appearance is everything. That’s why I maintain my body like a world class athlete and why I shop at only the finest men’s stores.

Just look at this mess. Note how I highlighted the offensive residue with a black oval.


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patrick on :

Sansabelt not making slacks anymore?

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