Burns Park Championship Course

 As part of my outrageous attempt to no longer be whinier than two motherfuckers every single time I don't like something, I have decided to no longer keep anyone's golf score, including my own. That does not include at least an effort to record mine once I get home. Ed Pennington, John Czarnecki, and I played the back nine of the Burns Park Championship Course from the pink tees this morning. I scored 44, with 3 pars, 4 bogies, and 2 doubles. I used 11 putts, which will go in the books as my lifetime's fewest for nine holes. Please understand this total included seven one-putts, all of which followed easy chips and putts from the fringe. ...Ed and John continued forward with a plan to play 18 holes. I was delighted by my play and unfatigued, but for my first attempt at golf in 11 weeks and 4 days, I thought it best to see how nine holes affected me before I played more.*

*by the way, I am proud to report I played nine holes today w/out a complaint leveled against anything or anyone. Also, I did not mention my dislike for costume-wearing at last Saturday's race. When called out, I explained my parents were so poor they could not afford book covers for the Zane Gray novels they bought me as a child. Consequently, the lime green short pants, white golf shirt, dark green cap, and running shoes I wore were exactly how I had always imagined cowboys dressed. Several women—no kidding—shit their cowgirl skirts**

**again, by the way, I silently thought of and rehearsed that line at least a dozen times after I was asked to present the awards