Somewhere in Scotland there is a Wii gaming machine which has my character on it, it holds the record for golf at one under par. I'll not print my character's name because it could cause the faint at heart to faint. Just to say it was thought up by L & B man and isn't kindly. But it don't matter to me because on this occasion L & B man's Wii box has my name on it and there is nothing he can do to get rid off it, until he beats my score. Fantastic, and tough shit.
I was invited up to L & B's house to keep him company, or rather to get me out and about from doing the normal set of chores Sparkling has listed while she is working. Except I wasn't given any chores this time round and left to my own devices. So to get away from my own company for an evening I played golf of the less strenuous kind and enjoyed a drink. I don't know where it come from but on this occasion I was on top form. Doing shots I'd never done before. OK on some holes I made a few mistakes, but overall I was consistently below part. On one hole I pulled off a put which seemed impossible. All the time L & B man could not believe what was happening. He was having a bad round. The verbal abuse which spouted from his gob was a sign of not liking being beat. After all I'm supposed to be the idiot, but even idiots have their day in the amenity room. L & B man said I had trodden in a rather big pile of shit. He thought I had not only trodden in it but probably jumped up and down in it. He couldn't believe how lucky I was. I told him it wasn't luck, it was a matter of skill. He shook his head in disbelief and accused me of farting and putting him off his swing. It was true, I did fart, but so what, he farts as well and they are just as bad. Well maybe not, but they are quite bad. So with pride my character on his Wii games consul stands proud with the course record, read it and weep big boy, I'm the champion.
As L & B has said before "get over it."
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