I'm just not getting any better at golf.

damn you, tiger woods. bastard.

My first game ever, I think I shot a 68 on a nine-hole course. Not bad for a first game, eh? Now it's a couple years later, and what did I get on the back nine last night? A 68.

I've got the game figured out though. If I hit it real far, it'll slice over to the right and land in the deep rough. If I hit it REAL far, it'll land in the fairway on the next hole over.

That's when I hit it far, of course. Most of the time, it just skitters like a startled kitten along the fairway for a while and hides in a sand trap.

This isn't so bad. The rest of my foursome (Lisa, Ronja and Joel) all suck about as bad as I do. We have a grand old time, whacking away at the silly white ball and stopping to replace divots. Well, except for the moments when we try to punish the golf ball for refusing to obey our commands. Leave the damn thing in lake, for all I care.

I wonder why people play golf. The more we play it, the more disillusioned we get with the game. We buy new clubs, we buy gloves and shoes and hats, we practice our swing on the driving range, but we don't seem to enjoy it much more.

The best moment I had last night was when the number of shots I took still had a name to it. I mean, a Bogey is still crappy, but I'd rather have that than the standard '4 over par' I kept getting the rest of the night.

Can't wait to go out again. I'll teach that damn ball a lesson.

Yup, you suck.

Back up. What was that again?

Bored. Next?

Take me home, big fella