Today’s title would’ve been a great name for a golf-themed episode of Murder She Wrote.
I was convinced for a moment that there had been a golf-oriented episode of Murder, She Wrote, but I was wrong.
I certainly hadn’t remembered to crossover with Magnum, P.I.. That better not just be Wikipedia messing with me.
You know, my mom plays golf. I’ve always seen it as a rather boring, uneventful sport and declined all her suggestions that I should try it out.
Maybe I’ve been wrong.
Her title is the Golf Matriarch of the 7th hole.
It’s an urban legend that Golfers yell “fore” to warn other golfers to duck. They actually yell “FOUR” to predict the body count that their little piece of death flying might bring. Usually it’s just one, but being positive always helps!
Actually it’s based on the event called “The massacre of RhinoJello Country Club’s hole 9 when Joe the terrible hit the ball so hard it kill 4 other golfers. In the moment of ecstasy and bloodlust he yelled “FOUR!” as a battlecry.
Hey, being hit by someone else’s ball is better than being hit by your own. I was behind this tree you see…
I could never get into golfing, but maybe if I just start swinging at random things on the course besides the ball it would be more fun.
As a kid we had a modified golf game that was really more “field hockey” with gold equipment..
I wish I’d been rich enough to afford gold toys as a kid.
Ooo burn.. Golf* I was not wealthy enough to have gold items either. Also all golf items were single clubs found in garage sales or simply stolen
First of all, every time I hear the song “My Sharona” I either think “My Corona” or “My Corolla”… Now that that is stuck in your head, the title might also work for an Episode of Castle.
Finally, reading your comic brings me the kind of joy I get when I see someone who bothers me walk into a glass door. The blurbs you write after the comic is like finding $5 on the ground after I hear the thud.
I let my son drive my golf cart once. he drove it up a split rail fence. Luckly no one was hurt and I made my put.
I see what you did there. Also nice rhyme.
This almost makes me feel better about golf replacing wrestling as an Olympic event.
Oh, this is more true than you may realize!
Years ago while working as a land surveyor in a suburb of Chicago, I had a week-long project on a golf course. The course had drainage problems and we spent a week measuring the elevation on different parts of the course.
One day I was set up with my equipment in an area that was slightly off of one of the fairways. A group of elderly Italian men were golfing nearby. Apparently none of them were very good golfers, because they managed to hit their balls close where I was set up.
They rather rudely asked me to move, which I couldn’t do until that portion of the survey was completed. When I refused to move, they THREATENED TO BEAT ME UP WITH THEIR CLUBS!!!
Thankfully, they decided to move on and not commit assault and battery with golf clubs. Who knew that golfing could be so dangerous?
Golf is a good walk spoiled. ~ Mark Twain
Was it Carlin who did the joke about hitting a small ball with a stick, walking around to find it, and then hitting it again?
Having played enough golf to decide I don’t like it, these days I tend to recall Camus’ conclusion: One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
That sounds about right. I was horrible at it and it hurt my back the way I’d swing (though I fondly remember going to the driving range with my dad as a kid). I’d goof on the golfers in the office by saying, “Putt-putt is the only real golf! Every knows it’s drive for show, putt for dough.“
Driving and drinking is nt just permitted, but at a good course they bring the beer to you!
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