Moving onto news from this morning, sadly I dropped a bit too much faux creamer in my mid-morning coffay, so it's a tad too mellow for my liking. That's the thing about faux creamer, once it's in there's no way to undo it. Your stuck with it, no turning back. No undo button to press to make it right. But there are a lot of things in life that are like that. Getting an arm amputated, for example. Or getting stuck with Winky as a childhood nickname. Sure, you'll grow up and have a life but anytime you run into one of your childhood pals you can bet big rupees that they'll call you Winky. You can be 90 years old, living in a "Just a waiting to die" Rest Home and someone will be calling you Winky.
Winky's not my nickname, by the way. I'm just throwing that out there as an example. I did, however, once play in a golf league where I partnered with a guy who called everybody Sparky. In fact we won the championship one year. It was a total fluke (I got hot and played waaaay better than I am at just the right time against the real good teams) but champions we were! Christ, I still get a hard on just thinking about it. But anyways, yeah, he called everyone Sparky in a sort of condescending manner. It was funny if you weren't the one he was calling Sparky, in a sophomoric sort of way. He was kind of an odd guy, truth be told. He was one of those people who had more money than sense and it was important that EVERYBODY KNEW IT. Still, he was a right good golfer which was all I gave a shit about.
I haven't touched my golf clubs in 3 years. They sit in my closet, mocking me everytime I open the door to grab something. I should just sell them and be done with it. Not that I don't enjoy golfing, but I have to play ALOT to be worth a crap and it's not possible now that I "work" regular type hours and a regular type job. In a former life I used to work funky hours which allowed me to go golfing in the morning quite a bit, so I did. Boy, weren't those the days, eh?
Okay, I'm gonna go1 now, I see in my daytimer that I'm supposed to stare at the wall from 11:45 to 12:15, and God knows I hate to get my work schedule out of wack. You understand. It's nothing personal mind you, and I will be having a Turkey Stemitch and a Bocca Burger for lunch, in case you were wondering. Right. Bye bye for now.
 - Go in the scholastic sense, not the biblical or stupid game sense.
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