I don't give a shit about it or anything. I'm not mental. I just enjoy the fresh air and a bit of a laugh with my mates. Now and again you might even see some boxing hairs or a magenpie stealing a golf bag. These are the moments that make golf great and, believe me, these thieving bastards will take anything. They're only wee but they have great strength.
Back in the day we would talk of many things. It may have been the rise and fall of Worcester Sauce crisps or the difficulty in playing both Neil Lennon and Paul Lambert in the same midfield.
It could have been virtually anything but, for sure, the approach to the third or the length of the rough on the twelfth would have been a mere sideline to, say, Roy Orbison's stunning version of Elvis Costello's The Comedians.
I overheard a chap in the airport the other day saying that watching Mamma Mia was a waste of time if you'd seen it in the theatre. He felt strongly about this. Apparently the film was just a rehash of the show. Tonight in the pub I heard two men discussing the relative merits of the contestants on the X-Factor. I even have one friend who watches Strictly Come Ballroom. A man, yes.
Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?
No comments:
Post a Comment