I wanted to play golf this weekend here in Atlanta. A few problems:
-My clubs are in Evan's trunk.
-Evan's car is right in front of our apartment.
-Evan is in Houston.
-Evan's keys are in his pocket, in Houston.
-His spare keys are in Alabama.
I am forced to play golf by creating a Frankenstein set of clubs from other dead sets. I borrow my friend's wife's putter (named the Golden Bear), and her sand wedge (named Tiara). I borrow my other roommate's irons, and use the woods from another set of clubs. I was fine with the other clubs, but Tiara and Golden Bear really screwed me.
Evan sucks.
3 comments:
Tiara would've saved you Eagle on multiple occasions if you weren't afraid of the stigma from using it!
Don't be badmouthing my Golden Bear!
I was not aware that my sand wedge had a name, or even that I had a sand wedge, for that matter. Joe found it in a dumpster.
Tiara screwed me twice.
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