Indata Valid
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
 
I'm going to be out of town for a couple days. Going to UCLA to watch the men's pro tennis tournament. Box seats in the 7th row from the court (advantages of having a family member work for the USTA and having a family member help run the tournament). Going to play golf at a fancy country club for free too. Best part is that I'm going to be with my hilarious, vulgar uncle and my cousins. Anyways, more blog in a couple days. Out.
 
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
 
I almost died today. No joking. No kidding. No fooling.

Ok, let me backtrack a little. I woke up at 12:15 AM this morning with rain hitting my face. I sleep with my window wide open, so dumbass me didn't think that it might rain. So anyways, now I'm awake and soaking wet. I look out my window and see that the whole f*cking sky is lit up like the 4th of July. Lightning. So genius me, I think I should go outside in my backyard and watch the lightning. It's seems pretty far away, so whatevers, you know?

I went out backand sat down in a lawn chair. I have to admit that the lightning that I got to see was amazing. Just a f*cking amazing view. I'm sitting there and I start to doze off. Really smart. I actually fell asleep even with the rain, thunder, and lightning. So, a little while later, I wake up to the sound of thunder, only it doesn't sound like thunder. It sounds like a goddamn Boeing 747 Widebody taking off from my backyard. I almost shat myself because I was so startled. But yeah, here comes the kicker. I was too asleep to realize that if the thunder was that loud, then the lightning had to be really, really close. So yeah, you can guess this. Another bolt of lightning hit my f*cking backyard, about 20 feet from me. That was awesome (except for the fact that I almost died...). I could actually feel a really weird sensation (electricity I guess). The thunder was unbelievably loud.

"F*CK THIS!" I believe I eloquently said as I rushed back inside. I huddled up in my sheets and went back to sleep. So yeah, there's my adventure for the day. I was scared $hitless, needless to say. And if you think I'm a wuss, then you can stand next to a f*cking lightning bolt and see how you feel...

Out.
 
Sunday, July 27, 2003
 
Here are some very easy "Simpsons" trivia questions. These should make you feel good about yourself.

1) How many fingers do the characters in the show have?
2) What is name of the Simpsons' cat?
3) Sideshow Bob's real name is what?
4) What is the name of Bart's boy band?
5) What kid always throws up on bus rides?

I'm running a little low on ideas right now because I haven't done much lately. So yeah. That's it. Out.
 
Saturday, July 26, 2003
 
So yeah, the last few days haven't been too great nor noteworthy. Besides the pain, swelling, and nasty-ass "soft foods," I haven't done jack$hit except read and sleep. I have to admit that it was nice getting back to my old ways, though. I've finished 4 books since Thursday afternoon (yay for Tom Clancy).

Anyways, I drove to Encino today to pick up my clubs. Rather strange people there. One guy walking down the street looked like an actor trying out for the part of Abraham Lincoln in a play. No kidding. This freak had a tux and top hat and everything. And then, of course, we have the Mexican demographic. All the guys doing the yard work are broke-ass Mexicans with their broke-ass trucks and lawnmowers. And then the rest fo the population of Encino consists of blacks, Asians, and the weird white people who actually like LA. Psychos. Needless to say, it's nice to be back among semi-normal white folk.

I finally have my new clubs in my possession (a month later). F*CK! I thought I'd never have them! Once my ass recovers, I guess I'll have to go tear up the courses with my new sticks. Out.
 
Thursday, July 24, 2003
 
Okay. Back from the dentist. My mouth doesn't hurt too badly and I'm not too swollen (yet). I'm probably so drugged and doped up right now that I can't feel anything. Yay for Vicodin! Yay for penicillin! Yay for ibuprofen! Yay for whatever the hell they put in the IV!

Anyways, my golf tourney was rather interesting yesterday. I played like crap, but I still got 78 and tied for 4th. The winner had 74, a kid in my group, but he cheated on at least two holes. He signed his scorecard for the lower scores on the two holes. Now, before I continue, let me tell you about this tournament. It's not real important for rankings and such, but hell (it's very popular), the winner gets a beautiful "lost" surfboard and second and third place get the top-of-the-line Morey Boogie body boards (needless to say, I wanted the surfboard so I could sell it and buy a nice bodyboard with money left over). So yeah, genius screwed himself out of anything (he probably would have gotten a nice bodyboard without cheating). Now for some golf rules. If any player takes a lower score on any hole, he is DQ-ed. Disqualified. Noi questions asked, no whining, no "mistakes," no "whoops." Too f*cking bad. TS. DQ. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! Dumbass. He cheated on at least two occassions and didn't get jack$hit (except for a suspension from the junior tour for a month, which is a long time, considering the season ends in five weeks). But, as usual, I miss getting anything by one stroke and one place. 3rd place got the nice Morey board, 4th place got nothing. 77 got a Morey board, 78 got nothing. Yay for my $hitty luck!

On a lighter note, YAY! YAY! YAY! My golf clubs have finally arrived....in LA. Now I just have to go the biggest hell-hole on Earth to pick them up. Finally I get to see whether they're worth $762.52, or whatever the hell I paid for them. Time for some rest before I faint. Out.
 
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
 
I'll have to keep this short. I have to leave soon for my golf tourney in San Clemente. So yeah, anyways, yesterday we had to have 2 trees removed. One was dead, the other was destroying the sprinkler system. So for about 4 hours, yesterday, all I heard was BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ, CRACK, BUZZZZZZZZZ, and then the shredder thing BUZZTTTTT. And then the occassional variation of CHINGADA and MIRA! I had a massive headache by the time "Los Pedros" were done.

Yay! Saddam's sons are dead! I loved the military guy that they interviewed.

Reporter: Could you give us a quick description of the events earlier today?

Miliatry Guy: Yes. We got a tip, we went to the building and received small arms fire (*my translation* we found out where the f*ckers were and they tried to shoot us with BB guns). We employed several weapons systems (*my translation* we shot and blew the hell out of the building). The threats were neutralized. They no longer have a chance to come into power (*my translation* they're dead as a doornail).

Out.
 
Monday, July 21, 2003
 
Just a few days until I get my wisdom teeth pulled. Oh joy. This will only be the 5th time that I've been knocked out for some type of surgery or crap like that (3 hernias, a broken arm setting, and 5 other teeth pulled). So yay! I always wake up from the drugs really hot and cranky. The stupid nurses or attendants always cover me in blankets and fleece crap and they always overheat me. Dumbasses. Then I'll have the customary chipmunk cheeks for a while. Oh yeah, did I mention that I have a golf tournament a couple days after I get my teeth pulled? I'm always f*cked up for a while after being knocked out like that, so I should hack it up at the tourney. And where is this tourney, you might ask? Redlands, of course. Oh joy. I probably get to see all the stuck-up members and people that I never wanted to see again in my life.

So yeah. What's really great about the wisdom teeth thing is that right now, I don't have insurance. Awesome. The incompetent motherf*ckers that run the insurance company cut off everyone at my mom's work simply because they had no record of any of the employees of her high school. Okay, that's smart and logical. Just because some dumbass doesn't go out to my mom's work and fill out form 12A-91-GR-567-JGH-WHOTHEHELLCARES? The stupid Mf'ers at the insurance company forgot to come and talk to all the employees and get their information, so they just cut all the workers off. Right! Logical! Smart! So basically, it looks like I may have to pay for the surgery. Just great. Just f*cking great.

Stupidity is widespread in the world. Beware. Ignorance is abound. Keep on the lookout. Out.
 
Sunday, July 20, 2003
 
I'm sad now. The British Open ended, so now I have absolutely nothing to watch on TV except "The Simpsons" reruns. And oh yes (wiping away a tear, sniffle, etc.), Felix had to leave for summer school.

Anyways, I have only two tournaments left in my junior golf "career." Kind of sad. I only have two more chances to win one (to go to the Tournament of Champions at the end of the year, which is something I went to last year; it was pretty cool).

In other news, (except it's not new news, you've heard it before), I still don't have my set of irons that I paid $760 for. Damn airheaded cousin of mine. It's been a month.

Sorry about the short, crappy blog. More next time. Out.
 
Saturday, July 19, 2003
 
2 whole days since a blog. Wow. Anyways, I went to the beach yesterday with Felix and Gregorio. The waves were okay when we got there, but they got progressively smaller and crappier as the day went on. It was a weird day though. Nasty car wreck on the way down there. An Acura RSX got run over by a GMC truck. Seriously, the truck was on top of the RSX. Cloudy, cold, and it even rained at Huntington. Oh yeah, and we saw a fellow REV student. Tan's woman. We didn't say anything to her though, because we're creepy guys. You know, we know everyone, but no one knows us. We hide in the shadows and stare. We crouch down behind people when we walk behind them so that they don't see us when they turn around. Well, actually, we're not THAT creepy, but still creepy. Really qute thing here though. Gregorio and I cleverly had Redlands Soccer and REV clothes and stuff (I'm trying to ruin my REV hats with sweat and such; it's not like I'm really proud of REV). Gregorio had to jet early, but Felix and I went to Round Table for some "fireworks" on the way home. Since Felix only eats cheese, his farts are the nastiest smelling things ever. ::GAG::

Today was great...loads of fun...not really. I had to transfer all my bank accounts to Wells Fargo because that's like the only bank in Pocatello (city where Idaho State is). So yeah, that took about 3 hours of my morning. Stupid Washington Mutual. I hate them. "Any reason why you're leaving our bank?" Yes, about 100 of them. "Free" checking. BS! Not free checking. "Great, friendly" customer service. Yeah right. Standing in line for 20 minutes, finally reaching the front of the line only to realize that the teller doing the stuff for you is either a bitch or a grump. I could go on, but I'm tired of complaining.

So, yeah. It's hot. Out.
 
Thursday, July 17, 2003
 
YAY! I finally received my AP scores, which everyone else got yesterday. I felt like such a loser when everyone asked me, "What'd you get?" Then I'd have to say, "Um, um, I haven't got them yet..." Ha HA! Now I have them! Without any further ado (that's a cool word, by the way), here they are:
Economics (micro)- 3
Thank God (metaphorically, of course) that I passed the Econ. The teacher was utterly useless.
Government- 4
Once again, I'm happy to pass. And once again, I had the same utterly useless teacher.
Statistics- 5
Easy test. That's all there is to say about it.
Spanish- 4
What a fluke! I'm white. Holy crap. Once again, quite happy to pass.
Calculus BC- 5
Calculus AB subscore- 5
I kind of hoped for a 5, but thought I'd probably get a 4. So I'm happy here too.
English Literature and Composition- 5
Hey Dr. Raumin, suck on this! During the end of the year, I missed a ton of class for golf matches. She sat me down and actually questioned me about the AP test. "Do you still plan of taking the AP test?" Of course I do. I paid for the damn thing. "Do you think you can pass if you're not in class?"
Yes, of course I can pass the damn test. I can write, you dumb whore. "What score do you hope to achieve? What score do you think you will get?" The answer is the same for both, you stupid heifer: 5. And that's what I got, SO STICK IT WHERE THE SUN DOESN'T SHINE!

In other news, I had another golf tourney today. Hot (it was in Sun City, what else would it be?), but cloudy, so it was OK. I sucked balls in the start again, but finished decently. Got 5th out of about 25 of some of the better players from Southern California. So it was an A-OK day.

It looks like I'm headed for the beach tomorrow. Not sure where yet, but I think the waves should be nice. Out.
 
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
 
Sweet! My nose has returned to land of the living and feeling. All is normal with the sniffer.

Well, I just spent a couple hours going through the 300 pictures I took of Pebble Beach and the other stuff we did up north. Jesus Christ, I got picture-happy. Pictures of every hole at Pebble from every angle, pictures of the ocean and the beaches we went to (from every angle, of course), pictures of family, etc.

Yay! Gray Davis might be recalled! That's the best news I've heard in a while. Worthless SOB. Way to have the largest budget surplus at the beginning of his term and the largest deficit at the end. Way to line your pockets and blow all the money on "social programs." Anyways, the Democrats are bitching that the signatures on the recall petition were illegally gathered. They're just $hitting bricks because they know Davis will lose if it were to go on the ballot.

Anyways, my ass is going to be glued to the chair, watching TV for the next four days. Yay for the British Open (major golf tourney)! It's friggin' funny to watch the pros hack it up because wherever they play in Europe is f*cking hard. Watching them suck makes me feel good. Out.
 
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
 
Oh joy. I just got home from the doctor's office. What a fun day! Yeah right. I had to go to the ENT doctor (ears, nose, throat) for an allergies and asthma checkup. Just my luck, it was time for an endoscopic check. Oh yay! In case you're wondering, that means they stick a f*cking fiber optic camera (a camera that is basically attached to the end of a cord) through your nose, all the way down your throat. Wonderful. The camera isn't that small or thin either; in fact, it's pretty damn big to fit in my nasal passages. Anyways, they shot my nose up with lidocaine, but, unfortunately, I still had feeling and I could every little movement that the goddamn camera made. Nice. And the lidocaine is now in full effect. My nose is utterly numb. By the way, I was able to see all of my nasal passages, my throat, my esophagus, my tongue (from the backside--> kind of weird), my vocal cords, and my voice box. Oh yay! Fun!

So anyhow, here I sit with a numb nose. I can't even feel my nose when I stick my finger in it. Out.
 
Monday, July 14, 2003
 
Okay! Back from Victorville, home of the "dry" heat. "Dry." Like that does much good when it's 110 degrees. Whoop-de-doo. Pit stains didn't exist (sweat wasn't localized). My whole shirt was entirely soaked. Yuck. Anyways, I had a f*cking bizarre round. Started $hitty (4 over thru 4 holes), ended up shooting 4 over total (76). Not bad after that $hitty start, but not good enough to get a trophy. Damnit. I got 4th, they gave out stuff to the 3rd place and up. Story of my life. It was a pretty cool glass trophy too. Oh well.

I didn't get any calls from my Mexican buddy today, just two messages. That cocksucker.

I didn't get any rocks in my pool today, just dirt clods that explode when they hit the bottom of my pool, leaving it covered in dirt. The little bastards are getting smarter. I can't throw this stuff back at their cardboard shanties.

Okay, it's official. I'm pissed off. I ordered my golf clubs through my airheaded cousin three weeks ago. F*CK! I haven't got them yet. By now, I could have driven to the goddamn factory (in Carlsbad), f*cking put them together myself, and been playing them. But no. Airhead Cousin says he can get them at a cheap price, so I order through him. Damnit! I want my damn clubs! I paid $760 for them. I'd like to have them sometime in the next century, thanks. Out.
 
Sunday, July 13, 2003
 
Just had to add something to this blog. Goddamn trailer trash! SOB's keep throwing rocks into my pool. The "Redlands Ranch" is right behind my house. There is this uninhabited trailer with a bunch of rocks around it. Well, the white trash that lives in the elegant "Redlands Ranch" (POS mobile home park) likes to throw those rocks into my pool. But I even have stupid white trash in the "home" right behind me. The f*cking father of the little brats throws rocks into my pool too! I caught the f*cker one day and he tried to deny it. Dumb f*cker! I saw you! Anyways, they have a peach tree. They like to throw peaches into my pool too. And it's not obvious who threw a peach into my pool, considering that they're the only family with a peach tree in a 5 mile radius. Jackasses. So I just chuck the peaches and rocks as hard as I can against their little cardboard shanty houses. That'll show that white trash. You throw rocks in my pool, I destroy your "house" with your rocks.

Bored. Out of my freaking mind. Not just a normal bit of boredom, but an all-out kind of boredom. Too damn hot to do anything outside, nothing to do inside (except sit here and type- YIPPEE! FUN! WHOOP-DEE-DO!)

Joining the 20th (mind you, I realize that this is the 21st) was great (cellphone), but it has its drawbacks. I keep getting calls from this one stupid Mexican guy. "Carlos esta alli?" NO, CARLOS NO F*CKING ESTA AQUI! HE CAN'T ANSWER YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE CALLING A WRONG NUMBER! And if you're not calling a wrong number, then you need to learn the magic of a thing called an area code! Ignorant SOB. Anyways, it wouldn't be enough to bother me, except that this dumb mf'er has been calling me every day for about 3 weeks, multiple times a day. Twice today, in fact. Anyways, enough ranting about the dumbass Mexican who can't operate a f*cking phone (too many numbers, amigo!)

Well...looks like I should go practice some golf. Have a tourney tomorrow out in Victorville, ought to be hot as Hades. Anyways, I'll let you know about the pit stains (oh yeah, and how well I play too). Out.


 
Saturday, July 12, 2003
 
In case you didn't notice, I came up with a new name for my blog. Such creativity.
Ah yes. Now I'm all caught up with news and such, after being out of the loop for a few days. Kobe Bryant. HAHAHA. I liked seeing his mugshot in the paper today. HAHAHA. Anyhow, speaking of mugshots... does anyone else here think that the pictures they show on TV for the lineups of football teams resemble mughsots? I mean, just think. You only have to take one picture of these convicts. That saves time, energy, film, and money. You can use the same picture for their lineup picture as the mugshot.
So yeah. Now I'm bored out of my mind. And nothing to do. I think I'll just go to sleep. Out.
 
Friday, July 11, 2003
 
Okay! Back from the nice cool climate of Monterey and Pacific Grove, where I didn't sweat one drop the whole time. Back to hell, "back to reality" (thank you Felix)...
Monday 7-7-03
The trip up took about 7 hours. My ass was totally numb by the time we got there. Went to bed early after walking around the golf course our hotel room was one (stayed at Spanish Bay).
Tuesday 7-8-03
Pebble Beach day! In case you're totally oblivious to the world around you (oblivion is OK, I'm not bagging on it), Pebble Beach is just about the hardest f*cking course in the world and is pretty damn expensive too. But it was a graduation present, so hey. Anyways, it was sunny and bright (but only 70 degrees, not the nut-blistering 105 that's here) and I got cooked. I had a slave...er...caddie, I mean. It was fun telling some 40 year old guy (that was huffing and puffing as he carried my clubs) what club I wanted. Anyways, I played decently, shot 81 from the tips (for the oblivious: tips= the farthest back set of tees). Shot 39-42. Took about 180 pictures of Pebble.
Wednesday 7-9-03
Tired as hell, but time for more golf. Played Pacific Grove Municipal Golf Course, which is the poor man's version of Pebble Beach. Nice course, pretty hard, especially the back nine, which has no rough (the long $hit), but sand and ice plant instead. Shot 74, played f*cking good. $hitty weather though: really cold and windy (nice change from the 105 of home though).
Thursday 7-10-03
Played golf yet again. Del Monte Golf Course. Hard as hell, narrow, long rough, tight fairways, huge trees. Fun though. Shot 79 with some ugly $hit.
Friday 7-11-03
7 hours home. Once again, my ass is numb. Back to the land of the poor, scummy skies, and heat! Oh yay! Out.
 
Sunday, July 06, 2003
 
Wow. I haven't blogged in a while. Like I said before, Friday was golf out in the desert (the inferno aka Palm Springs). Friday night was fireworks--> YAY! Only two hours of that crap this time! Not the 3 like last year! Saturday was beach time...
We got there at 8:30 and the damn beach was already packed. Anyways, we went out in the water, not realizing how friggin' big the waves were. About 5 or 6 feet, with the occassional 7 or 8 footer. And Felix, when we went, those were about 4 feet. So yeah, these were huge. Rough too. Needless to say, yours truly is a stud on a bodyboard. I actually never wiped out when I caught a wave, but getting out to the swells was an absolute bitch. My female cousins wussed out when they had trouble getting out to the swells, especially when they kept getting knocked ass over teakettle.
Something about the beach must bring out the freaks. Just about every person there had a tattoo (and by the way, I have a theory that for every tattoo and/or every piercing that a person gets, they lose 10 IQ points). One freak had a mohawk. And a kitten. That's right. This f*cking genius brought a kitten to the beach. Not only can the f*cking moron not read the signs that say in huge damn letters "NO ANIMALS ON THE BEACH," he also doesn't have any common sense. Yeah, like a cat is really going to enjoy the beach. Hell no! Cats hate water. So, speaking of water, this f*cking genius takes the kitten out into the water and dunks it. SMART! The kitten can't swim, but genius keeps trying to get it to swim. Finally, enough people yell at the dumbass and he takes the kitten up to his blanket and dries it off. Being the cute MF'er that he is, he dries the kitten off and then proceeds to give it a mohawk. QUTE! But genius isn't through... He decides that his kitty needs to get rid of the sand and salt, so he dunks it in the ice chest, which contains ice cold water. Once again, this guy is a F*CKING GENIUS! It's really sad that this creep is actually responsible for another living creature.
Anyways, enough ranting about the freaks of the world. I won't be blogging for a while... Going to Pebble Beach to get raped by that golf course. Out.
 
Thursday, July 03, 2003
 
Allrighty, back from practicing putting with my new putter. Yay! I got to blow $200, not just the $150 like I had thought. Sweet! Now I'm flat-ass broke!

In other news, Serena Williams has reached the finals at Wimbledon. Damn. I hate watching her and her fat-ass sister play. I was hoping some other broad would beat her and that way I wouldn't have to watch her sweaty, fat ass lumber around the court.

Oh yay! My dad just informed me that we have to get up at 4:15 AM tomorrow morning to play golf out in Palm Springs. So much for sleeping in and resting... Then after that session of nut-sweating, I have to go to a marathon family get-together. Oh joy. My moron cousins will be lighting off $400 worth of fireworks. Yay! Three hours of smoke and BANG, etc. F*CK! Then I get up early Saturday to go to the beach (hope I don't get eaten by a goddamn shark, like the damn great whites that they're showing on TV). Sunday is rest (finally) and packing for Pebble Beach. I guess I have to go show those rich bastards up in Monterey how to play golf (and cuss and break clubs...).

Oh yeah... Brad, if you're a golf stud now, bring it, man. Take your ass to school any day. LOL.

Joe gave me a link for a gayness test. Needless to say, yours truly passed as quite manly. Only 21% gay! Supposedly less gay that 91% of all males. Yes! I knew before that test that I was straight, but man, some of those questions were rather personal. Anyways, I'm straight. Yay.

Allrighty, time to get some exercise. Running. Time to have SNS (sweaty nut syndrome). Out.
 
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
 
Anger is good... sometimes... well maybe. I broke my putter today. In the tourney. That was cool. I was so pissed off after missing so many short putts that I slammed into the ground, causing the shaft to bend like a mo-fo. Anyways, I bent it back, so it's not truly broken. The head and the hosel are bent forever, so now I get to blow about $150 on a new putter. Oh joy. $150 down the toilet. Great. Just great. I can't believe I can be so goddamn stupid sometimes. There's one case where anger really sucks. Anger is good when I want to rip the ball about 300 plus yards, but when it comes to putting and delicate clubs, it's not a good thing. Dammit! $150 down the crapper! Jesus. I almost tackled my golf bag when I bent the shaft, but I thought wisely that my weight might not only break the bag, but my other clubs. Damn, anger is not good. I have got to get this under control. It's just a little white ball and it's just a game... f*ck...F*CK! Damn game pisses me off so much, but guess what? I'll be right back at it again tomorrow... See? I told you that I can be so goddamn stupid sometimes. OK, calm down. The people at Pebble Beach probably won't approve of my anger and displays. Oh yeah, did I mention that I'm supposed to go play one of the best and the most expensive courses in the world? I'm sure they'd love to have me throwing clubs, cussing, and beating the living $hit out of their prestigious course. Calm, Rico, calm. OK, OK, I think I'm calmer now. I'm just resigned to spending $150... Damn, I'm an idiot. OK, enough bagging on myself for now. Out.
 
 
Here are basically all of my favorite rock'n'roll songs (in no particular order):
"Dreams," "Rhiannon," "Landslide," "The Chain," "Little Lies," and "Seven Wonders" (all by Fleetwood Mac)
"Higher Power," "More Than A Feeling," "Peace of Mind," "Don't Look Back," and "Foreplay/ Long Time" (all by Boston)
"Somebody to Love" by Jefferson Airplane
"Born to Be Wild" by Steppenwolf
"Louie Louie" by The Kingsmen
"Five O'Clock World" by The Vogues
"California Dreamin' " by The Mamas and The Papas
"For What It's Worth" by Buffalo Springfield
"Break on Through" by The Doors
"Sweet Home Alabama" by Lynyrd Skynyrd
"Against the Wind" by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band
"Crimson and Clover" by Tommy James and the Shondells
"Suspicious Minds" by Elvis Presley
"Pipeline" by Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble
"Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty
"Classical Gas" by Mason Williams

That's about every single one that I can think of. I'm sure there's more, but hey, I'm getting tired of typing that crap in. So yeah. Felix, sorry that you didn't get to hear of these on the car ride to the beach and back. Damn gay-ass radio stations.

Anyways, I finished up the golf tourney in Beaumont today. I placed 15th out of 38 in my age and gender category, but that's a little deceiving. I had to qualify by basically winning a tourney to get into this, so 15th isn't bad at all. But now I'm burnt to a crisp, sweaty, crusty, and tired as hell. 6 plus miles of walking, 95 plus temperatures, and 6 hours of both combines to make me so very tired.......... Out.
 
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Equifax

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