Get this. I'm walking along trying to figure this golf thing out when a bunch of volunteers throw their hands up in the air near hole #10. I freeze. Is someone behind me with a gun? Where's Mr. Incredible when you need him? Then I realize the volunteers want us to shut the heck up because a golfer was getting ready to hit the ball. I slowly reach into my pocket and pull out my pen.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
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