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First off, the skies were very clouded with smoke from all the fires in the area. Ernest T Bass was on another burning mission - the bastard. Andy should have NEVER let him out of jail.
Second, my horoscope said to avoid pastures. Hollydale Golf Range is a pit.
Being the modern day rebel savant I am, I threw caution to the wind, and then some grass to gage it's strength and direction.
As I tee up my first ball, a giant Drowsey Monkey doll came tumbling out of the sky like a meteorite from Uranus. Freaky man, really freaky. Stranger yet was the bulls eye target on the dolls chest. I took it as a sign of destiny and fate! With the biggest rotation possible in my old spine, I coiled back to punish my ball outward with ultra high velocity in an attempt at dropping one right in the bread basket (so to speak).
Just as I made contact with my Fukijiama 460cc driver, here comes a helicopter with a giant man headed hornet. It might have been a yellow jacket ... not sure. Anyway, if you would stop talking and pay attention to my story - "sheesh", maybe we can both get to the end of this post together.