Scorpio Humor – David Plays Golf

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Scorpio – The Master of Relationships – At Least According to Me

Most people seem to enjoy my humor so I decided to include a little snippet each Monday. Most of this humor is based upon real life incidents with Linda and me but are slightly exaggerated. You may see a little of my Scorpio CType and Linda’s Sagittarius CType here. You may also see a little of your relationships in these little bites of levity. Enjoy and I hope these brighten your Monday’s in some small way.


I had been helping Linda around the house for about half an hour when she suggested that I go play a round of golf. She seemed somewhat agitated by my detergent/drain-cleaner mixup and the loss of electricity with the fuse-box incident.

I hadn’t played golf in a few months but decided Linda was right. With summer here and the housework done, it was time to dust off the clubs and start ripping it long and straight. I, like the Lama, am long—so I got that going for me. Although I’ve never had my swing speed analyzed, my estimate has always been 150-160 mph. That’s fast! Unfortunately, with age, there may have been some reduction in my swing speed. Tiger’s swing speed is supposed to be 130 mph, but I don’t think he’s had his swing analyzed either.

At one of the courses from which I haven’t been banned, I was paired with two older guys and their mother, Maude. The first hole is a par 5, 525 yards, which I expected to hit with a drive and a sand wedge and be putting for eagle. Frick, the younger brother, teed off first and, after removing his oxygen tubes, hit a nice drive about 40 yards. Frack, took a couple of warm-up swings, felt dizzy, and had to lie down to catch his breath. He then decided to skip the golf and drive the cart for Frick. I couldn’t believe I had been paired with this group of old geezers.

I stepped to the tee, took my usual 12 practice swings, and shanked the ball into the Pro Shop. The Pro told me I couldn’t play my next shot from the cash register because it was out of bounds. I told him I didn’t see any white stakes around the Pro Shop. He wasn’t dissuaded. I tried to buy a small bucket of balls in case I needed them on the course. The staff was not very accommodating. As I was leaving, someone mentioned something about liability for damage and injuries caused. I waved them off saying that, although emotionally damaged, I hadn’t been physically injured.

Back on the first tee, I decided to take a Mulligan. This time I hit a little behind the ball, covering it with my divot. Since it was still teed up and although it was a tough lie, I decided to hit it again with my real Mulligan. Frack dozed off and fell out of the cart in the middle of my back swing which meant, when I missed the divot, I got a Mulligan. With now many looking on, I crushed it–long and straight.

Frick and I debated who was away for our second shots, while Maude waited to tee off on the lady’s tee. To be sure who should hit next, I decided to walk off the distance from each ball to the flag. Frick was right. I was away by 26 yards. I was just getting ready to hit my second shot when Maude, who snuck up on me, tried to beat me with her 1-iron. Luckily, no one can hit a 1-iron and I wasn’t going to give her a Mulligan. I decided I’d had enough golf for one afternoon and ran for my car. Maude was gaining on me until the adrenaline kicked in and I pulled away.

Stopping by the new driver store, I decided to have my swing analyzed. I took 12 practice swings and the driver store guy asked me what I was doing. “Warming up,” I snarled. He asked me when the warm-ups would be over and I would start swinging the club.  I’d had enough. I just gripped it and ripped it—dead, solid, perfect. But the swing analyzer machine was obviously broken. Swing speed-16 mph. I decided to head home and give Linda a hand.

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