Asquith 30th May
Now here ye, Now hear ye,
Asquith 30th May Match Report and more utter nonsense from D. Worley.
Well,,,,,for all those that stayed away today assuming that it was gonna rain, you missed a cracker of a round of golf.
Wonderful morning, warm, sunny and dry. A little moist underfoot but you could say, near perfect.
7 of us showed up today.
The course was playing as long as ive ever played it. For the first time, on the first tee we hit off next to the pro shop on a very intimidating, elevated tee.
Everyone was sober too. Commendable stuff.
No sign of `the circumsised one` or John Rutland, after promising once again the he would be there, I can sense the need to punish John again. Any suggestions? Apart from `dry bumming` him i can think of nothing that will change his ways. Have we finally lost him to the demon drinky poo`s?
No sign of Alan and Mick Noon. Apparently, Alan was having Mick round for a roast, with yorkshires.
Myself and Paul Johnson (pauline) came to Asquith full of knowledge from the golf lessons that we had both had on the Saturday.
Didnt make any difference, we still played crap. Apparently, Paul`s Pro gave him a good tip. He said "Give yourself a rest for two weeks,, and then give the game up completely".... Smart arse..
We played the course back to front as usual. After 9 holes Keith romped in with a convincing 18 points.
Once he had digested a pie he was off again, unstoppable.
Pauline had the markers and decided to put `drive and pitch` on a par five. He then hit a ball that hit a tree and came back towards him at high speed just missing his left tit.
Keith at one stage hit his ball close to what looked like a human turd.
Phil was in close contention coming up the final few holes. He took a driver to the mighty 200m par 3 and hit the green, winning a prize ball and rightly so.
Keith, whilst holding a conversation with Sean Raffo about roast chichen (`eh poulle pot`) and sucking on a fag managed to spank a 7 iron to within 10 metres of the pin on the 18th. He then holed the put for birdie. 2 and 4 points.
The pressure got to Phil in the group behind as he hit a high, looping, squirting cut off the tee which ended up in a muddy puddle, close to the human turd. He ended up wiping the hole which handed the win to Keith who had 36 points... I think thats 3 wins on the trot for Mr Keith.
Well played Keith.
We retreated to the clubhouse for a quick ale and the dishing out of balls.
It would seem that the club is becoming quite profitable. As mentioned before, we must decide what to do with the dosh.
Potential members have asked me what you get for your $150. We havent even recieved a T` bag let alone a T`shirt.
As we know, at the moment, Jerry, (financial controller) is roaming around China, side saddle on a donkey like `Trippitaka` on some sort of pilgrimage in search of a new left shoe. Once he gets back we should all have a yarn about the clubs funds and its allocation.
Master Darwin has apparently cured himself of any financial misfortunes and is now once again loaded.
Im not sure what it is about playing Asquith but it always gives me a sore armpit.
This weeks true storey as promised, `Kim Wilde and the Peephole`.
It was in the summer of 1981. I was 14.
My mate up the road had decided to hold a snooker tournament in his bedroom on his handed down 4 foot snooker table.
We all gathered, about ten of us and commenced play. None of the pockets had netting so we had to take turns catching the balls before they hit the floor boards once potted. Too many sporadic thumps on the floor boards would get us all thrown out by his mum.
Any way, my mate all of a sudden shouted "Shhhhhhh, quiet everyone". We all stopped play and listened. " Whats goin on" i said.
He had a large poster of Kim Wilde next to his bed, bluetacked in all four corners. We all knew he pulled himself over this poster, but hey, apart from her dirty teeth she wasnt bad lookin. With a large excited grin on his face, he gently loosened the blue tack from the bottom two corners. He loosened the bluetack as gently as if he was loosening the buttons on Kims own blouse and then began to roll up the poster.
He then explained.
" Ive drilled a hole, through this wall into the bathroom next door. And the hole is behind this poster. Ive been watching my sister when she`s been taking a shower.....and she,s just gone in for her shower right now. The hole is drilled at groin height too."
Now his sister, like Kim Wilde, also had dirty teeth, but this was no time to get picky. She was bit older than us, which meant that she had pubic hair, which none of us had seen before and she was next door for our visual pleasure right now.
We all made a dash for the hole.
"Hold on, hold on" my mate said, "Give her a minute to get lathered up. And anyway, its my peep hole and im first"
We all retreated and waited in silence as we heard the muffled noises of water droplets on the enamel bath.
As he`d stated, my mate went first. He put both hands on the wall either side of the hole and slowly positioned his eye, right up close. The room fell silent.
"Sweet jesus" he cried as he immediately reeled back and rolled off the bed reaching for his Superkings.
"Whats up?" i said as i ran to the hole to get a peep. I looked through and, oh no, it wasnt his sister at all, it was his old man, bollock naked and masterbating about 3 inches from my eye. I too reeled back in disbelief and lit a fag.
Imagine the shock for us youngsters. None of the rest of our mates believed us so everyone had to see for themselves.
Our mate, nicknamed `The Roman` was at the hole for ages and we had to drop snooker balls on the floor to get him thrown out.
Since that day, every time i see Kim Wilde on the TV or in a photo, her face gets replaced with a knob and balls.
The nightmares, will i ever be free......
Thankyou for your cooperation.
All the best, look forward to seeing you all at Warringah this coming Sunday for `The Pedro Open`
Next weeks true storey: The Monkey and the Poncho
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