The gang was up early again for Friday morning golf which would be followed by Tampa downs and finishing at the famous Derby lane dogtrack. After a quick bite in the hotel kitchen, we head out to meet the rest of the group at the golf course. The golfing groups would be BT, Heels and Herk. Followed by Bigs, GPK, Aunty and myself. As we are waiting, I figure I might as well check out the facilities in the clubhouse. They were top notch, probably the nicest one I have visited since being in Florida (and God knows I have seen too many of them). After buying a $4 dollar Gatorade

, I catch up with the group. From there it probably takes about ten minutes to square away all the golfing bets/side action. The golf nazi (GPK) has action with almost everyone. It's to the point where it takes him about a half hour after the round to figure out where everyone stands. Now as stated before, I frankly suck at golf. I don't play at all so I never practice. I do like playing, but I figure if I have 5 hours to burn (which very rarely happens), I'm going to the track. Now Bigs is better than me (which isn't saying much) and he can hit the ball a country mile, but he struggles mightily at times too. So what's this midget prick do? He makes us play from the blue tees with him. Basically it just makes a tough game almost impossible for me. Then you have Lori, who hits the ball a ton as well. She decides that she's going to use her "vag" (her word not mine) advantage and hit from the ladies tees. They are probably at least 100 yards in front of the blues every hole. But I guess in her little side match with the Golf Nazi, she wasn't getting as many strokes cause of the "vag" advantage. So now she's getting par's and bogeys and bitching and moaning about it. To make matters worse the Golf Nazi is having sissy fits cause he's getting bogeys. Meanwhile my f.uckin hands are now on fire to match my a.sshole, because I must have swung the club about 3000 times between yesterday and today. Everything is starting to hurt and I'm running out of golfballs. I have a 3 hole span where I'm eased and vanned off not finishing the hole. Then I finally hit a decent drive (for me) and it's literally 1 foot outside a red stake (whatever that f.uckin means). So that midget prick says I found your ball and gave you a good lie, but you're hitting three. You would think that since I was on pace to shoot 235 that he would give me a break. I swear to God that I vowed to show up wearing a bomb vest the next time he and the rest of the Keebler elfs have a meeting to discuss a new cookie. But regardless it was a great time, Bigs and I had a ton of laughs riding in the cart together.
BT you might not want to read this part. Finally we're on the 18th and I can't wait for the round to end and get to the track. The Golf Nazi is teeing up first. All of a sudden I start elbowing Bigs and point to the tee off markers. He realizes what I have already noticed, we're hitting off from the whites. Bigs and I are giggling like a couple of schoolgirls knowing that if the Golf Nazi realizes where we're hitting from, he will surely make us hit from the jerkoff blues. Not to mention, how could the Golf Nazi make such a silly mistake? Obviously Lori doesn't realize either. So I actually hit a good shot and since we are hitting from the whites, my second shot is actually a makeable 140 from the pin instead of something like being 203 away if I hit from the blues. My second shot lands on the green about 30 feet from the pin. From there I two putt paring the final hole, screwing BT (who parred it from the blues) out of winning the final 7-8 skins that have carried. Chances are I wasn't parring that hole from the blues. Sorry Bri, as a racing fan you should be use to being screwed like this. The wrong bettors paid, tough s.hit.
to be continued...........................