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Trouble is, she frequently plays with, ehem, older ladies and more often than not one of them uses a golf cart, so she doesn't have to carry them.
Actually, she's selling some on Ebay at the moment, so that's a good sign. One is a men's Cleveland 60 deg. lob wedge, if anyone is interested.
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Just stumbled across this thread and all I can say about golf is that Norman is a choker.
As for the spray that Zed gave the Pommy Housewife and her cronies more power to him. And as for Lord Lindley and the furniture he makes well Ive never seen a piece! He has a workshop is in Whitby, North Yorkshire and I knew a bloke that applied for a job there. He had to do a test that took an hour and then he was offer a job paying £4 an hour. (The shop he was in was paying £8). Lindley like the rest of the parasites he's related to reckon the opportunity to work for them should be reward enough.
Up the Republic and hit that sucker straight!
Dennis
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Golf! Y'know why it's called golf, do you? Because they used all the other four-letter words already.
Listen, I hate the game because it hates me! But it keeps sucking me back in! Every time I play (Play! Ha! Give me a break, how can such agony be described as play?) Every time, I hit at least one superb shot - a work of art. Something to be admired and recalled again and again. Something that, unfortunately convinces me that I can actually do it - I can play golf! So I go back and make a fool of myself and lose several balls - and curse and swear that I'll give it up. But I keep going back! I can't help it!
(It's now 13 days since I had a cigarette but I'm in control - honest!)
Col (cough, gasp, wheeze).
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Hit the turf some years back(cos ER' indoors) reckoned onit bein' good exercise even with a real good set of Wilson's.
Trouble was the 19th hole along with judicious(off course) innebriatiation between holes...coulda ended up a fessional hic! had the drink not got me.
Woe and betide those that aspire to those lofty heights of golfdom be aware of the pitfalls that await them.
cheers:)