Contact...

Another contact from the blog world has arrived at my mailbox (grocerjak@lycos.co.uk). Thanks to crox for the kind comments. Check his site out here

www.crox.blogspot.com

Frankly I would rather be playing golf. I think we have too much info these days. I was really looking forward to my golf weekend. I then did the worst possible thing.....checked the weekend weather forecast for DevWall - and guess what....yep rain, rain by the shitload, buckets of bloody rain, and now I have the vision of me standing on a golf course swigging the last drop of single malt from a hip flask in a vain attempt to lift my sagging spirits, cold, wet, miserable and pissed off because I CAN'T play good golf in the rain. I wear glasses, and when it rains they have to come off (no windscreen wipers!) and that means the small white sphere I am attempting to hit off of a much larger sphere becomes a blur and if I hit it well, after 20 yards I can't see it. I'd vote for any government that spent some money on weather control technologies. Hopefully, one day I'll be given early retirement and can stop working at 50 something (yeah I can dream), and when that happens, the house is sold and DC and me can move to the South of France, or Italy....anywhere the weather is better. People say I'd miss the UK weather.....bollocks will I!

We are a party of four going to DevWall. My friend, The King is sharing my room. One other guy I do not know, he is a friend of Bob6 and Bob6 is the friend of mine from London. I may have said this before but he is called Bob6 because of his rather strange habit of hitting 8 or 9 shots on certain holes and then saying "it was a 6" or "lets call it a 6". The thing is I never say anything about this. Last year we had a game near where he lives in Iver. On the 11th hole he had a 3 shot lead. He then got an 11, yep thats 11. 7 to the green then 4 putts. I,like every golfer, know what this is like and the only person to beat up is yourself. You swallow your pride, you look at your mate and you say "11, a fucking 11, thats my poxy game over". Then you birdie the next....it's that kind of game. But Bob6 said "That was an 8"...hmm I thought ...well at least he didn't try and claim the 6 so it's an improvement. I wrote down 8 because I'm that much in need of golfing friends. We finished the game - he won by a single stroke, and a single point, although the matchplay was even. I don't mind defeat, after all I am playing myself more than him. But then Bob6 went on to deliver me a critique of where I go wrong in my game. Cheeky bastard - I know where I go wrong...I tell the truth about my scores! Perhaps thats my problem and why I'm off 24.

Another thing about Bob6 is ...well he's a bit like Benny Hill. Not in looks or anything, but he is what I define as a typical Sun reader. Now this might piss a few people off, but the Sun is a shit rag and appeals to the worst attributes in people. Bob6 gets it to see the Page 3 girls tits. Now,I like Tits like any other heterosexual bloke (I don't like Colin Montgomeries though) but I kind of got over buying the Sun for the tits when I was 18. Bob6 has never moved on. Golf is also a nightmare for Bob6 because of his unceasing capability to live in the world of double-entendres. You see, he thinks its funny to constantly mention and snigger at "hold it further down the shaft", or the green is "the other side of the mound". Don't mention the"head" of the club, or the endless hours of hilarity he gets from "balls" and "holes" and "lipping out". This is why The King is coming along as I need to have a point of sanity and reason to refer back to. Oh, and then he will regale the poor bar staff with piss poor chat up lines (didn't we go to the same school? errr no, she lives in Cornwall and is 15 years younger than you!)or a hole by hole account of his game - yep just what the bar staff want, another golfer lying about his game, because they've never heard this stuff before.

Why am I going then? He is my friend and has been there during rough times. I don't reject friends because they politically aren't like me, or they are racist, gay or whatever. My criteria for friendship goes much deeper than that. Bob6's wife is a close friend to myself and DC and they're off to Spain for the weekend (yep, no fucking rain there I would think). Last year they went to Italy and I went to Cornwall with Bob6 where I played the best golf of my life and he embarrassed me at every moment. I did kind of vow not to do it again to DC, but when The King offered to back me up I decided to have another go. As the man says, I'd rather be playing golf...

Later, Jack the Grocer